Summoning Earth

Chapter 11: The Struggling

"This is Captain Humes of IMS Friso, we have been disabled and require assistance," came the reply from the Friso vessel, as they noticed the enemy making no move against the disabled cruiser. Albesige responded to Humes' request, "The Zeroth fleet is approaching, please maintain continuous communication with the entire fleet."

"Be cautious of these new foes, they could easily overpower you if you're not careful!" Humes spoke with a dreadful tone. Upon hearing this, Albesige shuddered, realizing they might be in the worst-case scenario he had feared. For Albesige, he trusted the commander's words, especially since he was the commander of the Mithril-class ship.

Suddenly, intuition screamed for him to flee, but Albesige fought to maintain composure. He carefully observed his surroundings. "All reconnaissance squadrons, prepare for combat with the enemy," he ordered.

Squadron 6's commander glanced to the right, where Squadron 8 flew. He stared for a moment, noticing pieces flying off the Alpha-3s, which began to disintegrate into debris in the air.

"Contact! Contact! All units, break formation!" Albesige shouted loudly. They were taken by surprise by the enemy attack; Squadron 8 slowly disintegrated in a matter of seconds.

"This is ECF-54! Squadron 8 has lost 5 Alpha-3s and 2 Beta-2s!" the panicked pilot exclaimed. Then, swooping past the left wing was the F-16, overtaking the Alphas flying at 650 kph. The F-16, slender in appearance but deadly, bore a red flag with a faint green star on its tail.

"That speed is outrageous! Squadron 2 is overwhelmed!" Pilot ECF-23 yelled amidst the 20mm Vulcan gunfire of the F-16, as his Alpha-3 was torn apart. Flesh ripped apart in mid-air, mingling with the remnants of his aircraft.

The squadron formations suddenly descended into chaos. "Don't panic, stay calm, pursue and fire upon them as they approach us, it's our chance!" Albesige attempted to reassure the pilots through the communication devices, but it was futile.

Alpha-3s and Beta-2s began to continuously unleash fire at the 6 F-16s, desperate to turn the tables, engaging in a fierce battle. Initially, the fleet comprised 72 aircraft, but now, they had lost a third of their strength. The agility and prowess of the F-16 pilots completely turned the tide against the Holy Kingdom's fleet.

Amidst the precarious situation, Albesige surveyed the battlefield, noticing aircraft with desert camo, smaller than the bulky sand camo ones and lacking propellers. He had never known that Morocco possessed different fighter jets. Four F-5Fs, upgraded from the Nouasseur Air Base, entered the fray.

"The enemy has reinforcements! Stop those lengthy transmissions, we need flexibility in combat!" Albesige's voice echoed through the radio.

"Yes, sir!" All pilots shouted. In Squadron 2, Commander Hatto spoke up, "The enemy's new aircraft are slower than the rest!"

The F-5Fs, flying at 1.2 mach, began to target the Alpha-3s. "They're aiming for our F-5Fs, Inshallah!"

"We'll lend a hand, Allahu Akbar!" Muslim pilots began a fierce attack on the Holy Kingdom's aircraft.

A pilot was closely pursued by the F-5F. "Agghhh!! Their weapons fire faster than our Alpha-3s!"

"Damn it! We're losing one by one, do something, Albesige!" Squadron 2's commander, Hatto, called out.

"At this case, we'll fail utterly without inflicting any damage on the enemy! Call for air support!" Albesige exclaimed, dodging the deadly Moroccan bullets.

"At the very least, we should do something before being burned out of the sky!"

A sudden thought popped into Albesige's mind. "This is a gamble we can make! ALL FIREPOWER ON THEIR SLOWEST FLYERS!! LET'S INFLICT THE MOST DAMAGE WE CAN!"