Rays of sunlight beamed through the windows, lighting up the dull classroom. An hour had already passed and you were bored out of your mind at staring at the clock.
"5 and a half hours left of school, an hour left for break," you sighed, "Why did I come here again? Oh yeah, I came for a change of pace and to become 'Elite'. I guess school is the same everywhere you go,"
"All right class, we will be learning 'Headings' today, please turn to page 78,"
The whole class groaned in boredom through the rustling of pages. The only people who didn't was you and a white-lavender haired girl as she concentrated on the board.
"I know, as of recent, the maths curriculum is pretty boring, and I have to agree," the teacher turned around, addressing the class, "But luckily, for you, headings are easy, we can literally get it wrapped up in one lesson. Besides, I already know one person in here who uses headings on a daily basis. And there's always break to look forward to..."
The teacher shot a sideways glance at you before turning back to the board. He then began to explain the various intricacies of 'Headings'. Not that you cared. You were a pilot, headings were part of basic training, so you new it from top to bottom.
"Ok, so can anyone tell me the heading here?" the teacher marked something on the board with a piece of chalk before turning to the class.
"Would that be 270 degrees?" a student said.
"Correct,"
"Heading 2-7-0..." you thought to yourself, a number that you were all too familiar with. If 13 was an unlucky number and the number 4, or shi as it would sometimes pronounced in Japanese, were considered unlucky.
Then the number 270 would be yours.
It was supposed to be a simple weapons exercise...
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Death valley, 36.5323° N, 116.9325° W. 1109 hours. July 17th, 2017.
"Woohoo! good shot, Kid!" a pilot yelled escasticly over the radio as you flew over the burning wreckage of the GAF Jindvink, a drone we used as target practice.
You were in the cockpit of an F5E Tiger 2, a plane primarily used for training purposes. Along with a squadron of 12 trainees and 3 instructors, who were piloting F18c Hornets. We were an excited group of trainees due to this being our first live weapons training exercise. The instructors were there to make sure we don't fuck up the weapons or start shooting each other.
You were pretty hyped up after scoring a few kills and were ready for more.
That was until your radio cracked to life.
"Fallon, to Skyknight squadron. We have bogeys of an unknown origin, crossing Death Valley at bearing 2-7-0, angels 6. Maverick, your flight is the only one close enough to make the intercept. If those bogeys open fire or get within 150 miles of Nellis, they're gonna scramble the alert aircraft,"
"Copy," Maverick, your lead, veteran flight instructor replied, "Dizzy, can you confirm?"
"Roger, I got 'em. Tally 8 contacts, 20 left, 30 miles, 900 knots closure,"
"Dizzy, Motormouth. Form up on me, we're gonna get a visual ID and establish contact with them," the 3 F18's flew close to each other in formation, forming a triangle shape, "Everyone else, hang back. Don't engage unless fired upon,"
As we approached the bogeys to be close enough in visual range you could make out their silhouettes, from afar. F16c 'Fighting Falcon' probably with the Block 50 upgrade. They were dark grey-maroon in colour and bore an orange and white emblem that that didn't resemble any familiar Air Force insignia.
"I got visual," Motormouth said, "F16's, they don't look like ours. No IFF tone either,"
"Attention, unidentified fighter aircraft, please state your intentions," Maverick said.
No response.
"I repeat, please state you intentions.
No response, once again.
"Unidentified aircraft, respond to our hails immediately, or you will be fired upon,"
All of a sudden, a high pitched noise pierced my ears.
"Damnit, they have radar lock on us. All aircraft, evade! EVADE!" you heard Mavericks voice yelling over the radio.
You didn't need to be told twice. You banked hard right at full throttle as a missile zoomed past you, barely grazing your left wing before it lost track.
"Jesus Christ! That was close!" you tried to get a grip on we're you were as the blue skies span around you. You were lucky, 3 trainees who weren't quick to manoeuvre were caught by the hailstorm of missiles and were now fiery smithereens.
"All surviving aircraft you're clear to engage the bandits. Shoot 'em down!"
A 'Brrrrrrtt' followed by a roar of a jet engine as an enemy F16 roared passed you at staggering speeds.
You can feel your plane shudder from the jet wash as a hail of 20mm rounds pierced into your plane. Miraculously, you weren't hurt and your craft only suffered minor damage.
"What the hell is this shit?! He's engaging me!" you frantically moved your head from side to side, trying to get a visual on him.
The enemy realising he hadn't finished you off on the first run, turned back around for another try.
You turned hard left, right into him, flying low and fast attempting to get in his 6 o clock.
The F16 was one of the top fighter jets of the world. Fast, extremely agile and boasting more weapon hardpoints compared to your modest Tiger.
You had one advantage, however.
The 'Tiger' was tiny in size compared to other fighters, meaning that you were more nimble than even the mighty 'Fighting Falcon'.
It's not about size, it's about how you use it. And if you played your cards right you could walk away from this alive.
The F16 dived towards you, attempting another strafing run. You reacted, lightning fast, rolling around him before performing an Immelmann turn. You dived down, regaining the speed lost in the manoeuvres. You were now hot on his tail as he attempted to pull up to gain an altitude advantage, at full afterburner.
That would prove to be his undoing.
You were armed with AIM 9 'Sidewinders'. A heat seeking missile which locks onto the thermal signatures of a plane, such as the turbines behind an air intake and the jet engines.
An F16 at full afterburner, for a heat seeking missile, was like a giant red flag saying: "Aim here"
You armed the heat seekers as you tried to get a missile lock.
"Come on, baby, lock up, lock up," your helmet beeped for a while before a buzzing sound could be heard, , meaning that you had lock, "Bingo!"
You pressed the fire control as the missile ignited and soared away to its target.
The enemy didn't even have time to react as the missile slammed into its target and exploded spectacularly like a firework.
"Splash one..."
"This is Skyknight 7! Somebody please respond!" a voice belonging to a panicked young pilot cracked through the radio.
"Roger, this is Skyknight 5, reading you loud and clear. What is it?"
"A bandit is glommed onto my 6, engines leaking and control surfaces are damaged. I'm good as dead!"
You scanned your radar trying to look for your squad mate in distress. Suddenly, two bright green blips appeared. You looked out towards the horizon. And sure enough it was him, as a thick trail of black smoke streaked across the sky followed by the bright flashes of cannon fire.
You when into full afterburner.
"Hurry up man, get this asshole of off me!"
"Don't worry," you said calmly, "Break left on my mark. Help me engage..."
Luckily, the enemy hasn't noticed you as you made your approach and prepared to line up your shot.
"All right, on my mark..." you made your final adjustments, leading your target to account for his speed and distance, "3,2,1... now!"
Skyknight 7 broke left as the bandit trailed him. But in doing so he revealed himself in his most vulnerable position, showing the largest possible surface area to you making him a big target. You could practically see the tiny pilot in the cockpit look at you in shock as he realised the situation he's put himself in.
You squeezed the trigger, firing you dual 20mm as they ripped through the fuselage, setting him on fire, sending him plummeting back to Earth. Leaving only a trail of black smoke and a smouldering crater.
"Skyknight 7," you said, "Your tail is clear and the bandit is down."
You flew next to him, on his left wing, and looked at his bartered plane.
He's seen better days...
His wings and tail were shredded, bullet holes peppered the fuselage, one of the engines was trailing black smoke and the pilot looked like he sustained shrapnel wounds.
He was breathing heavily. Clearly shaken up.
"Don't worry, I'm flying by you wing. I'll escort you to Nellis here on out," you said soothingly, trying to calm you wounded brother in arms nerves.
"Wait, what the hell?! Radar contact!" he panicked.
You looked at your radar and then behind you. Surely enough, an enemy pulled up behind you and launched a missile.
"Shit, he's got radar lock!"
You watched in horror as a missile slammed into Skyknight 7's tail.
Skyknight 7! Eject! Eject!" you shouted.
"I can't!" he cried, "The ejection handle's stuck! Electronics are fried! I'm going down!"
"Skyknight 7, get the hell 'outta there. Punch out..."
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"Punch out!" you yelled at the top of you lungs, you eyes slammed shut.
Your eyes slowly slid open, revelling a class full of confused students. You stood there in alien effect for awhile before the entire class laughed at you.
You slowly slid down your chair, covering your tomato red face in embarrassment as they continued to laugh.
After the dogfight, the entire incident at Death Valley was covered up, almost as if our little undeclared war never happened. There was even a rumour going around that it was a UFO.
One instructor survived the fight but crashed and was killed in the landing and the other was shot down. It wasn't our fault that the unidentified aircraft fired at us without warning.
10 people died because of an unidentified military force.
More would've died if reinforcements from Nellis Air Force Base hadn't showed up and fought off the hostiles. And you would've died if Maverick hadn't shown up and cleared your six.
Although it wasn't your your fault, you couldn't help but feel guilty that you were responsible for their deaths. The young men and women, you considered your friends, who trained with you were gone at a push of a button, some of them you even grew up alongside with.
You sighed, "Damn, I guess I fucked that one up..."
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Angels: Altitude in a thousand feet (Angels 3= 3000 feet)
Alert Aircraft: are aircraft maintaining combat readiness on the ground in case of attack.
Bandit: A known bad guy.
Bogey: Unknown radar contact.
NAS Fallon: or Naval Air Station Fallon is the US Navy's premier Air to air and air to ground training facility. Located near Fallon,Nevada and is home to TOPGUN.
IFF: Identify Friendly or Foe. Enables military and civilian air traffic control interrogation systems to identify aircraft, vehicles or forces as friendly.
Immelmann turn: a manoeuvre used after an attack on another aircraft to reposition. An effective way for changing directions.
Jet wash: gasses expelled from a jet engine. Causes extreme turbulence in a short duration.
Nellis AFB: Or Nellis Air Force Base. Located near Las Vegas, Nevada with a large amount of military schools and squadrons. Hosts air combat exercises such as 'Exercise Red Flag' and 'Exercise Green Flag'.
Punch out: to eject from the airplane.
Tally: Literally means 'Enemy(s) in sight.' ("Rapier is tally 2 bandits at 5 o clock low")