Ablaze Ch.5: Battle of Senchen (2)
The result of the missile strike, and also the beginning of where the storyline actually moves to the fighting in Senchen itself.
All comments/ratings/anything else is appreciated!
June 29, Y874 - Corysia - Senchen Outskirts - Morning
Miles away, a few mobile launchers have just emerged from the safety of their camouflage netting and heavy vegetation. The four vehicles are pointed towards the ocean, along with the missile tubes mounted on each truck, each containing a single Wasp-2 supersonic anti-ship missile. The tubes, originally parallel to the ground, start to point upward with the help of hydraulics. The crews quickly leave the vicinity, retreating a safe distance away from the launchers. They also take care to avoid the large backblast area that the missiles will cause. Nervously, they listen to the countdown through a secure radio channel. Finally the command is given to fire the missiles.
Almost simultaneously, the four Wasp-2 supersonic anti-ship missiles shoot from their launch tubes. The short-range missiles don't gain much altitude before dropping to about a hundred meters above sea-level. In the distance, other missiles can be seen arcing into the sky, before quickly dropping to about a hundred meters. The solid fuel booster rockets fall from the missiles, and the powerful ramjet engine kicks in. The Wasp missiles then accelerate to over mach 2.
Captivated by the dazzling airshow in front of them, the crews of the launchers stare in awe at the missile exhaust trails stretching into the horizon, but they soon remember their tasks. The crews report their successful missile launch, and hide the mobile launchers under the foliage. In total, 21 Wasp-2 supersonic missiles and 48 Wasp-1 subsonic missiles are launched. One Wasp-1 falls into the ocean due to a malfunction.
An alarm goes off in the command and control room of the Sovereignty, the command and control ship for the task force sent to attack Senchen.
"Sir, multiple radar contacts inbound, from the southeast!" a radar operator says urgently.
"Aircraft?" the nearby admiral asks.
"Negative, they should be missiles... shit, they're Wasps! Range is 200 miles out and closing fast!"
"Warn the fleet, weapons free, maneuver as needed!"
The message is broadcasted to the entire fleet, "Wasp! Wasp! Incoming missiles from the southeast, weapons free, maneuver as needed!"
Anti-ship missiles are not that common, in fact, many countries underestimate their potential. The only defenses against anti-ship missiles are onboard surface-to-air missiles that lock on to an incoming missile's radar signature. If the missiles are slow enough, manually or remotely-operated machine guns might work. Alarms go off on all the ships, and the crew scrambles to their places. The whole fleet shifts its heading slightly so the SAMs, most of which are placed on the ships' aft section, have a direct path to the incoming Wasps. The ships' onboard radars illuminate the missiles, and the SAM computer guidance systems are fed information about their target. A destroyer fires the first missile, a long, thick plume of white smoke dragging behind the arcing projectile. Many more are fired, surrounding the fleet in an artificial fog. Missile after missile is launched from the ships. The Wasp-1s initiate preprogrammed evasive maneuvers, saving some from annihilation, but the Wasp-2s head straight for their targets.
By now, a noticeable gap has formed between the incoming missiles separating them into the supersonic Wasp-2s, and the much slower Wasp-1s. Of the original group, three Wasp-2s and eleven Wasp-1s are left in the air. The supersonic Wasp-2s reach the fleet first, in less than ten minutes. They have been programmed to automatically target the largest vessels using onboard radar, which starts scanning the fleet. Filtering out the defensive screen of escort ships, made up of expendable frigates and some destroyers, the Wasps make a beeline for the main fleet. Of all the ships, the three carriers and five amphibious assault ships are the highest priority. The ships all fire chaff into the air, attempting to disrupt the missiles' radar guidance systems. The onboard machine guns attempt to shoot down the incoming missiles, but they are too slow to nail the Wasp-2s flying at over 1500 miles per hour. Explosions blossom on the sides of a few ships, creating deafening crashes that resonate through the entire fleet. Just ten minutes later, the Wasp-1s reach the fleet. The machine guns open fire, but are still too slow to hit the Wasp-1s, cruising at over 600 miles per hour. Chaff goes into the air again, confusing some of the missiles. Most are still able to hit their targets.
In total, two carriers including the Sovereignty, four amphibious assault ships, and three cruisers are hit. Three missiles miss their targets, landing in the water. One of the carriers and assault ships were unfortunate enough to be hit by two missiles.
Back in RMC, the team celebrates their success, but winning the Battle of Senchen won't be easy. The Parosanans report the missile attack, and reinforcements are already being organized. As for the damaged fleet, all untouched ships are still heading towards Senchen.
July 1, Y874 - Corysia - Senchen - Noon
Smoke. A column of smoke, gritty and filthy smoke, rises in the distance. It acts like a beacon, marking the location of Senchen. The devastation caused from just a day of fighting is easily visible to the line of Type 47 tactical transports as they approach the city. It is midday, with bright, intense sunlight illuminating the city and revealing its wounds to the world. Scores of buildings lining the shore, mainly residential, have been demolished, and explosions occasionally flash in the streets below. A few skyscrapers have been hit by ordnance, resulting in massive open wounds that spill smoke into the environment. Supporting elements pound the city constantly. Offshore naval artillery and aviation conduct close support and interdiction strikes on the Corysians. In the air, numerous aircraft fight for the sky. The Corysian National Air Force is desperately trying to prevent the Parosanans from gaining air superiority. The activity has caught the attention of the Parosanan carrier air group, and now fighting at one another's throats. An assortment of Corysian fighter aircraft engages the Parosanan CAG right over the city. They pull tight, high-g turns, attempting to evade, or get a shot at the other aircraft. Trails made by air-to-air missiles and flares form long and thin claw marks across the sky.
"Looks like the fleet had enough strength to carry on," the pilot comments.
"Damn, look at that!" the copilot says, pointing at a fighter in the distance. The pilot sees a jet just hit by an air-to-air missile. It tumbles down into the city, breaking apart before crashing into a tall building. After a few uneasy moments of watching the mid-air duel, a radio transmission is received. The two are astonished by what they hear.
"Do they really mean it?" the pilot asks.
"I guess so, that's what they said, right?" the copilot confirms nervously.
"Well that's fucking sensible!" the pilot sighs sarcastically as he presses one of the many buttons in the cargo plane's cockpit. That particular button activates the intercom.
"Captain, get your tail in here now!"
The door at the back of the cockpit opens, allowing a uniformed wolf to enter the cockpit. He closes it after him.
"What's the word?" the wolf shouts over the jet engines.
"Change of plans. The airfield is way too hot, were not going to stop there," the pilot replies. The captain takes a moment to comprehend what he just heard.
"We're unloading elsewhere?"
"No, we're going to touch down, but we won't stop. That means you guys will have to jump out the plane... while it's moving."
"That's really fucking sensible!" the wolf shouts, echoing the pilot.
"The only explanation I can think of is that this place is in danger of receiving enemy fire, and stopping down there and stopping will kill us. I mean, this plane is a big target. All the other companies have to do it too, if that makes you feel better. Oh, and when we touch the ground, we'll slow down to about fifteen miles per hour for a short period, and then you guys go."
Fifteen miles per hour? That sounds a bit more reasonable, but it's still not something he would willingly do. Well, those are his orders. Now he has to explain it to the rest of the company. The wolf exits the cockpit and returns to the dimly-lit cargo bay, where his company is waiting. Some of the paratroopers turn their muzzles to face him, but no one says anything. The captain walks to his position at the other side of the cargo bay.
"Alright Alpha Company, listen up!" he starts, to get everyone's attention. "Apparently, the planes won't be stopping! They'll touchdown, but we'll have to jump out of 'em while they're moving!"
The wolf instantly hears mumbles and murmurs.
"The fuck?!" someone scoffs quietly.
"Well, we either jump out and kill ourselves or the plane lands and wait for the Parosanans to blow it up!" the captain responds. "Besides, we're not jumping off at full speed, the plane's going to slow down and then we'll make our exit."
At least it's fifteen and not fifty miles per hour, right? A moment later, he could feel the transport start to turn as it lined up with the runway.
"Ears under your helmets unless you don't want them anymore! When we land, jump out of the plane just like a normal drop, but curl up into a ball so you won't get maimed! Get off the runway immediately so the next plane won't hit you!"
Corysia's paratroopers are consisted of crack, hard-core troops, but this somewhat unreasonable. Then again, the marines stationed at Senchen are about as die-hard as the paratroopers. Therefore, if the situation is as bad as he has previously heard, then they really need help, and fast. Assembling at another safer airport and then getting to Senchen might take too long.
The cargo planes have now formed a gap between one another, allowing the paratroopers enough time to clear the runway before the next plane. Meanwhile, the Corysian fighters try their best to keep the Parosanans at bay. The pilots of the cargo planes slow their aircraft down as much as possible without stalling the air transports.
"Approaching runway," the intercom bursts out.
"Get ready!" the captain shouts.
Faine, a team leader, feels the plane shake as the wheels make contact with the ground.
"Lowering ramp, good luck out there!"
As the ramp slowly drops open, the paratroopers are exposed to the world beyond. The cargo bay is lit up by natural sunlight, washing out the weak artificial light originally illuminating the interior. In the distance, the next Type 47 tactical transport following behind them can be seen. Faine, a wolf near the back, notices the unfriendly runway moving pretty fast under them. Not long afterwards, the green light shines, signaling that it's time to leave.
"Go, go, go!" the captain shouts over the engines.
The whole company begins running. As the paratroopers reach the ramp, they jump out the back, curl up into a ball, and hope for the best. Faine hits the ground, and rolls. The wolf's knee painfully smashes into the unforgiving runway. His helmet strikes the runway pretty hard, but at least his head isn't directly struck, and his ears are under his helmet. His paw impacts the hard tarmac, splintering a claw. He tumbles for several seconds, hitting his tail, legs, paws, and hindpaws before coming to a stop. For a moment, he lies on the ground motionless, but he slowly comes back to his senses. Faine sits up, and notices that many of the other paratroopers in his company are already up and moving off the runway. The wolf slowly stands up, causing pain to suddenly shoot up his leg. He curses under his breath as he also notices one of the bags attached to his leg has fallen off and is now a few meters away. With the next cargo plane almost touching down on the airstrip, Faine hurries over as fast he can, grabs the bag, and runs outside of the plane's path.
Faine steps onto the grass next to the airstrip, and follows the other paratroopers heading for the airport's structures. Now that he has the time, he pulls his ears out from under his helmet and through the appropriate apertures. It is now that Faine notices the numerous civilian aircraft at the airport. If there are so many furs using a relatively expensive method to leave, how many are forced to escape by land, due to financial restrictions? Competing with the civilian aircraft for space are military fixed-wing aircraft. Fuel and ammunition are wheeled about to their destination. Preventing the airport from become a cluster of craters are numerous SAM systems and anti-aircraft guns. Still, the occasional crater here and there shows that some Parosanan jets have succeed in releasing their payload onto the airport.
The paratroopers walk for a while, carrying all of their equipment, before finally nearing the distant airport buildings. The whole company is quickly assembled inside of a large hangar. The paratroopers are then allowed to sit on the ground, facing the back of the structure, where there is a big map of Senchen set up. A fox stands at attention beside it. Seems like a briefing. The fur next to Faine pushes him on the shoulder. He recognizes the other wolf as Vance, a member of his team, and notices blood on the side of the wolf's muzzle, already matting the fur.
"I saw you limping," Vance says.
"My leg just got hammered from rolling. It hurts, but I'm alright, nothing broken. How about you? You don't look too good"
"Well, my muzzle got smashed into the tarmac, and since my paws were busy protecting my neck, it got scratched. But seriously, it's just a scrape."
Over time the other companies are assembled, and finally the whole battalion is inside the hangar. A wolf enters from the side of the hangar.
"Attention on deck!" the fox standing at the front shouts. Everyone rises, standing vigilant. The wolf, evidently an officer, pads to the center where he is given a microphone from the fox standing at the side.
"At ease," the wolf says. Everyone sits back down.
"Welcome troopers, I'm the commanding officer of Corysia's National Marine Brigade. I apologize for the rough landing, but the current situation demands it. Two days ago, as you may know, the Regional Missile Command launched a missile strike on a massive incoming Parosanan fleet. Although it dealt a heavy blow, the surviving ships still continued their course." He turns to the map behind him and points to section of the city's northern coastline, located inside a rather large red area, indicating lost territory.
"Yesterday, the Parosanans landed troops here. They overwhelmed and broke through our defense line. Since then, they have pushed our forces back continuously and have reached the financial district."
The wolf points to the financial district on the map. It's already partly consumed by red.
"Soldiers, this is from one day, one day of fighting. The importance of Senchen cannot be stressed enough. Losing the port to Parosana will give them an open road to Vanden! Over 90% of our combat-ready forces and at least 70% of the whole National Corysian Armed Forces are dedicated to the Northern Front, nowhere near our current location. Reinforcements are being organized. Help will arrive, but for now, this battalion will be on its own. The rest of 1st Para Brigade will be arriving later. From here, you're going in by trucks to the 1st Marine Battalion HQ. Company commanding officers will meet with the fur in charge of 1st Battalion for further instructions. Welcome to the war, troopers, welcome to Senchen. Get into your platoons, await further instructions."
"Welcome to Senchen," Faine scoffs.
"Yup, welcome to Senchen," Vance echoes.
The platoons are assembled, and trucks arrive in front of the hangar. 1/1 Paratroops piles on as fast as they can, avoiding attention from enemy aircraft and artillery, and leave for the city.