Armored Core (Part 21)

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Part 21 – Let This be Your Last Battlefield

 

AIRBORNE OVER THE NORTH ATLANTIC

“Are you sure this is the right direction?” Amara asked, the red dragon yelling across to her assigned wingmate.

“My calculations should be correct, taking into account the mass of this planet, and its curvature…” Lucille called back, squinting through her crystal lenses as she flew, the finely ground and polished lenses looking almost incongruous against the copper scales of her snout.

Both dragons flew at the head of their flight, off the right wing of their leader, a mighty black dragon. The entire flight was made up of five wings of ten, and though this new world’s mana proved to be a bottomless well of power, flying over an entire ocean was no mean feat, even for ones such as they.

The had spotted some of the humans’ flying artifacts some time ago, and the machines were keeping pace with them, spread out in a square dozens of miles across, and a few thousand feet below – far too distant to be more than growled at.

The five wings had formed into flying wedges, arranged into a pyramid, all at the advice of Lucille, the bookish dragon figuring out the best formation to keep fatigue to a minimum.

“And the skytrails in the distance?” Her wingmate pressed.

“Those are… One moment,” she replied, focusing her power, and sending out a faint, but focused pulse of mana. In their brief time on this world, she’d learned much about the humans’ amazing technology, and had added many books to her hoard, especially those pertaining to engineering. The pulses she was sending out and listening to the echoes of were as close as she could get to a magical equivalent to human radar, and she easily mapped out the incoming formation. “There’s a wave of human fighter craft up above us, and a smaller group in front of them almost on our level, slightly ahead of those. And below that…” It wasn’t easy to see, but the dragon’s brow furrowed in confusion. There’s more, but I can’t detect them as well, they must be even stealthier than the wave at our level.”

“And you’re sure your ability works like the human’s radars?” Shandra rumbled. Their leader had been too focused on getting their flight over the ocean, and had left all navigation and logistical duties to her subordinates, along with the one of their number that carried the most important item of all, and rode upon her broad back.

“Pretty sure, yes. The trick is to use as little mana as possible, or we’ll stand out like a bonfire on a dark night.”

“We’re dragons, not much can hurt us though, so why even bother with this?” Amara retorted.

“Because the last thing we want to do is make enemies without reason.” Their leader replied curtly. “We are strong, but this is not home, and we aren’t as strong as we once were. Much stronger than when we left, but still.”

“Daryss,” Lucille called, “We’re close enough, I need you to use the tool I gave you.”

 

ANGELS 20, NORTH ATLANTIC

The intercept flight vectored in on the incoming bogies in three waves. Hammer Flight cruised at Angels 30, loud and proud up in the cons, hopefully drawing attention, while Anvil Flight approached at Angels 20, their stealthier airframes hopefully allowing them to get closer to the inevitable furball, while Stiletto Flight spread out way down at Angels 10, ready to pick off any stragglers. The venerable F-22s of Anvil Flight meshed well with the F-15 Eagle IIs from Hammer Flight, while the F-23’s and F-35’s of Stiletto would make short work of any bogey that got too close. Craft from Hanscom, Westover, and Otis had all launched on the scramble order, and formed up over the coast of Maine before going full burner to intercept.

The hasty briefing had seemed almost unbelievable, but here they were: Dragons, Fifty Dragons. But with the presence of mamono popping up all over the dammed place, their kind were well-known. Still, it was rare to see fifty in a consolidated flight, and their arrangement into individual wings, and their overall formation spoke of organization and purpose. This was no band of raiders, oh no. Whatever this was, it had clearly been planned, and they meant business.

Anvil 1 looked at his right-hand MFD, displaying a radar repeat of the PAVE-PAWS plot, plus sensor fusion from the other craft in the three flights, lending him and all other aircraft total systems awareness, The gathered V’s of the incoming flight somehow looking even more intimidating in their precision. But it was finally time, and orders snapped out across the aircraft at the speed of light:

“Anvil flight, Anvil 1, Anvil 2 through 5, with me, Anvils 6 through 10, mirror our course.”

“Anvil 2, copy.”

“Anvil 3, copy.”

“Anvil 4, copy.”

“Anvil 5, copy.”

“Anvil wings break for intercept in five mikes.”

While Anvil 1 would remain the overall flight leader, it was time to break into the smaller combat elements the intercept force would use to get the job done.

“Hammer flight, Anvil 1, clear to engage in seven mikes, dependent on radio challenge at five mikes.”

“Hammer 1 copies, SM-7 release in seven mikes.”

The Eagle IIs of Hammer Flight would strike first, driving the enemy right into the jaws of the oncoming Raptors.

“Stiletto flight, Anvil 1, buddy system, intercept as needed, on the numbers.”

“Stiletto 1 and 2, copy.”

“Stiletto 3 and 4, copy.”

“Stiletto 5 and 6, copy.”

“Stiletto 7 and 8, copy.”

“Stiletto 9 and 10, copy.”

And Stiletto Flight would pick off any stragglers from what remained.

Now, it was time to see if this would be the day he would use what they’d all been training for. Reaching down, Anvil 1 switched over to his secondary radio, preset to GUARD.

“Attention, unidentified aircraft, you are in violation of sovereign airspace, squawk ident, or be engaged.”

 

AIRBORNE OVER THE NORTH ATLANTIC

“- squawk ident, or be engaged.” crackled over the device Daryss held in one hand-claw. The blue dragon had remained in her humanoid form, and while still clad head-to toe in emerald and cream scales, her smaller size made manipulating the human equipment entrusted to her much easier.

“Ah, Hello? This is Daryss. Are you out there?” She replied hesitantly, silently wishing she could master the feats of vision and sensing her sister Lucille made look so easy.

“Miss Daryss, My name is Anvil 1, and I’ll be your escort for today.” The voice replied. “Your approach to our airspace was unexpected. May I inquire as to the nature of your visit?”

“Let the human know of those whom we seek,” Shandra rumbled from below. “While we are in need of sustenance, finding all those who remain of dragonkind is of greater priority.”

“Ah, I am sorry, Anvil 1, but I cannot deviate from my chosen course. We must make contact with the ones who remain, as they are all that is left.” Daryss tried to emulate the formal speech of her leader, but faltered in choosing the right words. “That is… We sensed more dragons this way, and since we’re all that’s left, we need to stick together, you know?”

The reply crackled back over the airwaves after a beat. “Understood, stand by for escort. We’ll form up off your wings, and guide you in. Watch for the craft waggling its wings.”

“Um, thank you?” The dragon replied in confusion.

Soon after the transmission cut off, things began to happen fast, and Shandra growled out orders to the other wedges, ordering them to not engage once the human craft showed up.

As the sleek vehicles swept long arcs around the flight of dragons, they then formed up with near mechanical precision, each wedge of five dragons receiving two escorts, while the remaining craft spread out in the formation, clearly on guard, but not in a threatening posture – for now.

Daryss’ radio crackled to life once again. “All right, do you see the lead aircraft?” the voice on the other end asked, as one of the especially angular and fierce looking machines rocked its wings back and forth twice. “Just follow me, and we’ll get you where you need to go.”

“Boss, are we just gonna let them lead us along?” Amara grumbled, looking sidewise at the sleek, deadly looking human craft that had pulled up alongside, its golden canopy concealing the pilot inside.

“What choice do we really have?” Shandra rumbled back. “Tradition demands that when at a disadvantage, we gather all of dragonkind than can be found, and then we make our stand. All of dragonkind is not yet gathered together. We must all be united as one.”

“Look, I get that, but even diminished like this, I think we can take ‘em.”

“And then what? Suppose we make contact, and, gods forbid, those we seek have already found partners? Would you have us rip them away from the new lives they are forming, and isolate us elsewhere?”

“Boss… you know I’m not saying that. But still, were gods-blessed Dragons! Rulers of the land and sky! We’ve got to at least keep the traditions alive!”

“Amara, while your words ring true, we must also take the measure of these humans. They are not like those of the old world. These humans are clever, innovative, and unshackled. I strongly suspect, had our own humans been similarly unleashed, things might have gone quite differently in the old days.”

“You’re right, Boss… but still, we need to at least pay some honor to the traditions, or what will we have left?”

“You speak truly, as always. I will instruct Daryss, and she will convey our words.”

“Good. I look forward to it.”

 

ANGELS 15, NORTH ATLANTIC

This had gone well. Too well, actually, and Anvil 1 could feel the little hairs starting to prickle on the back of his neck. There’s no way they’ll just let us escort them in without incident… was the though racing around the back of his mind. These were Dragons! Creatures straight out of myth and  fantasy, complete with scaly hides, leathery wings, and toothy maws. Anvil 1 had no illusions about how he and his wingmen would fare in a close-quarters fight, but given some distance… He had faith in the technology his home nation had produced, and with good reason, as the venerable airframe he flew still had teeth, even as newer, sleeker systems came online.

His radio crackled to life, as if in answer to the feeling he’d been experiencing.

“Um, Hello? Anvil 1?”

“This is Anvil 1, go ahead.”

“Ah, yes, we would like to um, Hmm… this is difficult to explain. You see, when two opposing, or unaffiliated groups of dragons meet, their seconds will engage in a mock combat, yes? This is not a hostile gesture, but more a way to both acknowledge the strength of the party being visited, and a way to display our own strength. I can assure you, no harm will be done intentionally.”

This was definitely above his paygrade. But almost as soon as he reached for the switch to trigger his other radio, a reply came in.

“Anvil 1, this is Rumiko Hanzo, EID. I’m in your command and control center, relaying duly authorized commands from EID central. This is an unprecedented opportunity, and I’ve been instructed to advise you to take the dragon flight up on their offer. Detach your wingman for mock combat with their flight leader’s second. We have three dragons at Otis Base, and we’re working to receive the flight you’re escorting in the traditional manner. Believe me, Airman, this is not a standard procedure, by any means. But if it helps prevent another battle like what’s still being cleaned up in Detroit, we need to do this.”

Anvil 1 had not risen to his position as flight leader by remaining hidebound to the book, so, thinking quickly, he assembled the pieces he needed. “Copy that, EID Hanzo, will detach wingman for combat exercise, limited weapon authorization. Lucky for us, he’s flown with the demo team.”

“Thank you, Anvil 1. Stand by for additional tasking if required, EID out.”

Mentally shaking his head, Anvil 1 keyed his mic again. “Anvil 2, Anvil 1. Special tasking, assign to mock combat with designated dragon. Fireball, I’m not sure what the bigwigs are up to, but you’ll be needing to dance with one of their best. You up for it?”

The response was almost instant. “Fireball copies, Anvil 1. Let’s put on a show.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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