To say that coordinating all of this was keeping Major Booker busy would be an understatement. Unlike all the other fighter squadrons, which would operate according to one set of orders, he had to devise and transmit flight plans for all thirteen individual units in his squadron. This involved the takeoff times, the mission action outlines of the squadrons they were attached to, the return flight courses, the in-air refueling points, emergency support conditions, and a myriad of other elements. On top of that, a normal mission would usually require the launch of just two planes, but in FTJ83 all of them were going out. Add in Colonel Guneau and his Knight system, and the whole thing was enough of a mess to drive Major Booker to tears. Enough so that even Rei felt sorry for him.
“Thanks for all your hard work, Major.” Rei saluted.
“You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a Boomerang pilot thank me for anything. Rei, if you really feel that way, break up with Yukikaze and come work with me in control.”
“Can’t do that,” Rei said as he lowered his hand. “Yukikaze would never leave me.”
“You can’t kiss a machine,” said the major. “If she ever makes like she’s going to crash and kiss the ground, you make sure you leave her in an instant. Understand?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll always make it back alive. That’s your one standing order, isn’t it?”
The paramount directive of Boomerang Squadron: Even if you have to watch your comrades die, make it back alive. If asked, none of its members would say that they considered this a heartless duty. To them, even entertaining the question would be a pointless waste of time. Those were the kind of soldiers who made up Boomerang Squadron.
Rei saluted once more, then left Major Booker’s office. He went to see Yukikaze and get a detailed explanation of what was being done from the crew chief. Enveloped in the tense atmosphere of the maintenance bay, Yukikaze was almost intoxicatingly appealing.
FTJ83. THE ENORMOUS operation commenced at 1100 hours with the destruction of the JAM’s strategic reconnaissance satellites. Simultaneously, ballistic missiles were launched from strategic bases while frontline division bases launched antiradar cruise missiles. Most of the missiles were shot down, but during the barrage the strike units were able to successfully penetrate the targeted JAM sphere of influence. They achieved air mastery through overwhelming force, destroyed the JAM’s surface installations, and neutralized the enemy’s counterstrike capabilities. Cruise bombers then dropped a devastating amount of ordnance on the central objective.
And thus was the JAM’s largest frontline base destroyed—or at least, that was how Rei heard it from inside Yukikaze. Well, now it begins, he thought, but he doubted that the JAM had really been hit fatally. Part of their forces could have been hiding deep underground, and anyway, this wasn’t the only base the JAM had. There would be payback.
Rei was flying a CAP armed with twelve medium-range missiles and four short-range missiles. He was holding at a high altitude in C-zone near Sugar Rock, looping in a figure-eight pattern. There were three squadrons of ADAG interceptors nearby, flying at a slightly lower altitude than Yukikaze, all fifteen planes maintaining plenty of space between them. The Flip Knight and Unit MK-1, the carrier plane Colonel Guneau was on, were positioned a hundred kilometers to the rear along with the airborne control plane AC-4.
It was unusual for Yukikaze, a plane attached to the Tactical Air Force, to be operating with an Aerospace Defense Corps unit. But then, according to the letter of their mission, Boomerang fighters were supposed to operate with any squadron, so Rei didn’t particularly feel one way or the other about it. It was just that this was the first operation where he’d had enough time to wonder when and how the enemy would come at them, or even whether they would come at all, and he found the suspense painful.
The dense forest was spread out below him. The dry air blowing in from the nearby desert gave the atmosphere a crystalline quality, and even from this distance the true hues of the vegetation—not the expected dark greens, but rather pale blues—were faithfully conveyed to his eyes. The forest ended abruptly before the ocean of pure white sand. The contrast was beautiful. Sugar Rock glittered in the sun. Looking down on the forest side, Rei could see a sea of clouds mounting up in the distance, with storms likely blowing beneath them.
The area was mountainous, though the heights were less like mountains than like enormous geological waves that rose and fell three thousand meters. Seen from this high up, the ranges really did look like waves. Since the dominant plant species on the mountainsides varied between the heights and lowlands, you could roughly estimate the altitude from the color of the vegetation. It grew more and more purple the higher you got. Faery Base was beyond the horizon, past those waves. Beyond it was the Passageway, and beyond the Passageway, Earth.
What a boring-ass mission, Rei thought, stifling a yawn.
“Is it time to go home yet, Lieutenant?” Rei asked his EWO.
“Still… sixty-three minutes to go.”
They flew on silently for thirty more minutes, not even talking during the in-air refueling. Just as Rei was wondering if the JAM would ever show up, a call came from the control plane.
“All units, attention. This is AC-4. We’ve picked up the JAM. Map point D31-49, flying on the deck. Multiple contacts, speed of zero-point-nine and closing. They look like cruise missiles, three large groups. All units, prepare to intercept. Commence intercept.”
The interceptors rolled in, automatically guided by AC-4 into their dive. Yukikaze followed after them.
“Targets confirmed,” Lieutenant Burgadish said over the intercom. “Range of one-five-zero. At current speed, they should pass just under us in two minutes. Picking up scrambles from TAB-15 and 16.”
“What vector did they come in from? What about the Flip Knights?”
“Still haven’t launched,” answered Burgadish. “Three groups targeted, each group approximately forty units. Total of 120, closing range.”
“B-3, this is MK-1,” called out Colonel Guneau’s voice. “We’ll draw them off.”
It was rare for the Systems Corps to be participating in actual combat. The colonel’s confident voice now gave Rei a different impression than it had during the flight test. Back then it had seemed to him merely unpleasant; now, it had the tone of childish boasting. This is dangerous, Rei thought.
“MK-1, launch the Knights at once, then withdraw the carrier plane.”
The colonel asked why, probably suspicious of Rei’s reasons for requesting guidance authorization for the Knights.
“Lieutenant, one group of targets has begun to climb rapidly,” Burgadish warned. “Range nine-zero.”
“Colonel Guneau, this isn’t a flight test. The JAM are headed for the carrier plane too. You think they’re just going to turn off or pass by you?”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
The enemy was drawing closer, and Rei dismissed the colonel from his thoughts.
The JAM penetrated the Early Warning Line.
Yukikaze’s central computer automatically began gathering data. The positions of the JAM, the positions of the interceptors, tactical guidance data from the airborne control plane, the comm chatter between each plane, interception results: the computer voraciously sucked in all of it. If it noticed any data overlooked by the control plane that could be deemed a possible threat, Lieutenant Burgadish would inform the control plane or the interceptors, but they’d take no further support action beyond that. They would simply watch over the scene. The missiles Yukikaze carried were for her own defense, not for any sort of proactive attack. The interceptors could withdraw from the combat zone at full speed after releasing their missiles, but Yukikaze didn’t have that option. It hadn’t a single missile to spare to defend the other planes.