Muvluv Ironfront RP

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Opening a reply via the limited range network the Major smiles lightly from within the Cockpit of her Soviet TSF. There was no rules against what he did, yet he seemed "Ritter Thirteen huh? Trying to be both a smart ass and get yourself killed are we Sergeant? Or perhaps being different for the sake of rank?" It was just then Victor and Saras also joined the Formation taking on the Callsigns Ritter 11 and Ritter twelve.


Switched over to all Squadron members so far 1, 2, 3, 6, 11, 12, 13 and 4 had been spoken for. Caine hadn't picked a number, and there was Sam and Drago who were likely just getting into the air, pegging the command system Tatiana quickly assigns them each a number in the formation. There was also the man from Japan that didn't seem too keen on the unit personification aspects and she doubted he would pick his own number. And she didn't care to remind them either.




Drago; Ritter 5

Sam; Ritter 9

Caine; Ritter 7

Kosuke; Ritter 8


"All units switch to Squadron Communication lines, ending support from ground control." While standard operating procedure, it gave one other advantage. Command couldn't listen in to private chatter. Peering beneath her lowered Visor Tatiana never much liked the helmet, and now that they were airborne, off it went till they were on the field.

Then there was the communications from the new American, allowing her reply to be kept in general broadcast, there was no harm in giving him a bit of a light roasting, though a distant part of her pondered reaching for her sidearm.

"Oh, its nice to see like your other predecessor, you are late. If not for Sam in her A-10 making the meetings I would question if this was a general trait of Americans to show up late to the party. Maybe it is simply one of American males."


Dialing in the course to the TSF flight assistant unit it would not be a long on, right around one hour to ninety minutes at cruising speed. A straight on flight would have been easier, and used less fuel which is why after the immediate invasion happened they had to refuel. First they would turn Southwest flying to Plymouth Then a turn Southeast for Normandy. The Black Skulls and Valks as she came to call them would link up there as well. With the former proceeding to Caen to aid the 7th VDV and the 101st US Airborne.


"But to answer you Ritter Seven, we shall be assaulting the BETA positions so allied forces may land. You'll be supporting the missile units as a sweeper. Ritter's 11, 12, 9 and 5 will be in your element. Other than that ask the Comrade Colonel for more details and stay in formation. We can't have your getting lost and turning up late at the beach." While she was being a bit snappy at the new comer, she was more concerned with this round about route from Dover. It ran the risk of mechanical trouble and could force some machines to abort. Luckily it was a short flight, not like flying from Northern Russia to Iceland as example. So technical problems shouldn't be a factor.




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"So they are one hour out give or take a few minutes? Any sign of the BETA?" Lucia seems to be speaking with an operations officer aboard the CIC of the Vanguard. Leaning over the mans shoulder to look at his screen he didn't seem to mind too much as she read the dispatch. Likely as she was a Colonel...well a Lieutenant one at that. But rank was rank.


"Just scattered sightings Ma'am, the Thinning Operations really pushed them back, and we have heavy cloud cover over France, but if lasers show up we'll know." Which was fairly obvious, given the range and reach of them they would have a visible light show. For now helicopters would be used to scout the landing areas, given all conventional fighters had long since been pulled from service. TSF's while not as dedicated as former frontline fighters had advanced so far technologically that the very thought of replacing them was laughable.


"I see..I'll be making arrangements with the Japanese Assault Ship to handle refueling. Once they off load can we use some of the heavy transports to rest our units on?" Getting a node as she glances at the Admiral it would be good to at least give a rotation of pilots some rest once the long flight was over.

Looking at the plotting screen the 212 ship fleet would be making its landings by the time the others linked up..if trouble game they wouldn't have long to support. Plans would need to be made for quick refuling and rest, this could be done spot on.
 
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Kosuke roused in his cockpit as the other TSFs in the hangar roared to life, catching the Majors' Terminator beginning to leave the hangar Kosuke quickly sat up in his seat and let the chair lock him in place. Before the cockpit was even closed Kosuke had his Fubuki picking up the only part of his kit not already attached to his TSF; his supplemental armor; and began moving for the doors.

Kosuke gave a small smile at the familiarity of the Fubuki, he had spent all of his pilot training in a Fubuki and now that he was actually back in one it couldn't feel more natural. Pushing the engines to military power he left the ground in just under four hundred feet, "2ndLt Tanizaki, airborne and in trail." he relayed over the radio. With a slight adjustment of his throttle and a slow yaw to the left Kosuke quickly fell into formation with the unit with no trouble.

Another Americans voice cut the air, asking for a brief on the mission, 'At least he doesn't screw around' Kosuke thought as the Major answered him, seemingly taking pleasure in demeaning the Marine.
'These damn Americans haven't even seen real BETA and they have to keep our flanks.' he reeled at the thought, no amount of training and practice prepared anyone to fight the BETA. If there were any in the unit that would pose the greatest threat to mission failure it was the American pilots with their utter lack of combat experience and their love of weaponry over maneuverability combat doctrine, "Have fun dodging a Grappler with all that mass" he said, he smiled sadistically at the picture in his mind before realizing he was doing so and quickly cut-off the video half of the communications system for the time being.

'Better be worth more than they seem.' he thought as they unit began a gradual turn, moving ever closer to France.
 
Arriving half an hour before launch time, Sam found her TSA among the hanger of TSF and wasted little time hopping into the cockpit. Running a general check of its systems she made sure the arms and sensory equipment were functional before propping her feet and watching the maintenance crew at work. Letting out a yawn, her hour nap prior had left her groggy. Though, changing had been easier for her. Hearing a loud laugh echo in the hanger, she recognized it as the giant serbs, but decided it not worth her time with it being so close to launch.

Moments later she was connected to her TSA and doing flight checks along with everyone else. With her engines cranked on high she barely hovered above her usual altitude before she lowered them to conserve fuel. While unnerving to most, Sam filed the concern away in the back of her mind as they prepared to launch. She knew it was too late to have doubts and that they'd only slow her down. Though, not that it mattered much as she enthusiastically reported in. "Second Lieutenant Sam Eloise, engines hot, guns ready to put holes in some fuckers." At the Majors remark on their new squad member, Sam couldn't help but smirk. Though, his manner of replying had her questioning. This guy really a Jarhead?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon entering the hanger and spotting his TSF in the distance. Drago noticed there was something odd about its appearance. Being almost late to the launching he'd been held up after the meeting by a group of mechanics and service men. The seven or eight of them had went to the mess hall and other various parts of the base to waste time. Sharing stories of back home or fine women they remembered fondly, Drago had enjoyed his time so much with them that he'd all but forgotten about the launch window.

Now, merely ten feet away from his MiG-31M, he noticed a new feature had been added to its outer shell. Running the length of the torso there was Chinese dragon flying through a series of hoops. With further inspection the hoops turned out to be standard glazed doughnuts. In the dragon's hands was a pile of said doughnuts that were falling as it flew in a circle around the TSF's torso. Its mouth was fat as a squirrels, filled to the brim with doughnuts as well that pilled out of its lips. To top it all off there were even doughnuts hanging on the horns from its head.

Taking the site in, Drago let out a "Wat" before chuckling into a full out laugh. "Ahahahaha" Going as far as shedding tears, the longer he looked and the more he noticed the more humorous the whole thing became to him. After a hearty laugh to himself he looked around to see any of the maintenance men were still around. Seemingly keeping a distance from his TSF, the action went unnoticed by Drago as he composed himself and hopped into his pilot seat. Running similar system checks as the others, Drago attached two missile containers to his shoulders before grabbing hold of two extra. "First Lieutenant Drago Karadzic, launch was a success. Hey, what do you think of the new shell? Looks great right? Haha."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighing at the answer he received, it was expected yet still a displeasure for Rolando hear. "I was afraid that may be the case." he said looking slightly downcast. After a momentary pause he raised his head and with it his spirits. "We'll just have to make it work as you said Colonel." he said, his beard moving with the smile beneath it. As the Colonel began to leave he made no effort to stop her or ask anymore. "Oh, well then of course, I won't hold you. Best of luck to us out there. I'll see you after we've claimed the beaches." he said with a hopeful tone.

Watching as she departed he thought of what to do next. Settling on using his time to prepare best a he could, Rolando quickly changed and headed for the hanger. Visually inspecting each TSF and Sam's TSA, he mentally ran over their strengths and weaknesses and how they applied to their pilots. For the majority of the group each fighter complimented its pilot, but there were still risks.

Drago's confidence could very well spell doom for those in the rear. If any of his explosives were to malfunction it could take out half the unit, leaving Sam defenseless aside from her personal arsenal. The rear was not the only one who could suffer. If Jack were to be downed Erika would need to cover him. As a result Kosuke would be needed to cover her in the process. It was possible he would give up on the rookie at first opportunity, claiming the benefits didn't match up to the losses. Erika would be unlikely to agree with that and could possibly halt their advance all together.

Considering these two problems and the formation itself, it was clear to Rolando that the Colonel had most likely accepted these risks with using it. While they were major problems every formation and team had them, so as far as he was concerned the current setup would work as need be. Having used up his time quickly while lost in thought, the time soon came for them to launch.

Hopping into his Rafale Rolando did a second systems and flight check. Receiving the same confirmation as earlier that everything was in order he joined the front with Major Tatiana, taking up his place on the left flank. "Captain Rolando Salamanca, Ritter Three, in flight and formation." he said as the team began the starting stages of their mission. At the mention of switching communication lines Rolando decided to voice one of his concerns over the squadron line. "Drago, Amigo. Be very careful with your explosives. We don't want a repeat of the first simulation." Receiving a "Don't worry. I'll keep my distance." in return he returned his focus to the flight ahead of them.
 
Scowling a bit at the berating, Michael half-expected this and didn't respond until the woman was done. He guessed that, like in the Marines, making excuses wouldn't end well. Though, apparently he wasn't the only American in the squadron, but who the hell was this guy before him that he replaced? Caine's flight got fucked, what was that guy's excuse, though? With a sigh, he waited for the woman to finish scolding him, or roasting him as she seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much, before replying.

"I'll make sure not to make a habit of it," Michael replied stoically.

After his words, the Major began giving him his briefing, which made it clear why the root of it was "brief". It hardly lasted ten seconds, though he supposed that she told him all he really needed to know. Other than that he just needed to cover the others, stay in formation and adapt to any other orders that came through. Other than that, the only one that made direct contact with him was a Jap of the squadron, who's face popped up at the bottom left of his HUD with a rather suspicious grin. The man obviously noticed how strange he must have looked, as the video cut off soon after his face shifted back to a somewhat-normal expression. If he popped up again with green hair and a bright-red grin, it'd probably fit.

"I'm sure you'll be having the most fun out of all of us," Caine replied, obviously remarking about the man's smile as well as showing that he could snip back. He took the scolding from the Major because—Well, she's a Major. He's not as likely to take quips, at least not quips with that kind of grin, so easily from those of an equal standing.
 
The Japanese Pilot was shaping up to be an issue, though upon reflecting on it he had reason to be. When Japan was invaded the Americans honoured there defense commitment...for a whole 24 hours, then hurridly ripping the documentation apart and fleeing. Then coming back after Japan lost a large percentage of its population driving the BETA back. But his thoughts or rather the emotions behind them were disturbing. But nothing to do about it for now. "I'll hold you to that Ritter Seven." Tatiana says in reply to the American's response.

Gazing at her HUD and zooming in on Draco's TSF, it seemed the Mechanics took a liking to him, or a dislike. More likely than not, some of the Wing's Pilots put them up to it as a stab. But it seems the large jolly man liked it.

Which would make those who were angered likely to just give up. It was a strange fact she had noted...and one she couldn't understand. An Esper such as her, could see and feel much, but with what she was and how she was birthed and raised..well that fundamental flaw would likely always been there. There was a difference in seeing, and seeing. Though also made her unusually loyal like a dog to those that earned it. Which was why even now looking down at her new leg, she was conflicted on just who's side she was on or should be on.

Though one small fact would always harm the woman..

With the American trading Barbs with the Japanese, her thoughts are briefly distracted, as her inhibitor kicks in. Triggering an alert, it seemed the system had detected a spike, unknown to the Major of course.

Switching to the conversation between the Captain and his Friend, she smirks a bit at the mention of the exercise. She still didn't know how that was possible. "These are latest in Soviet Missiles, so should only blow up one way." Looking at her timer, the Major lets conversations playout as she guides the flight over the english countryside.


(Interesting sidenote, Joker and Batman would be known then, as that comic was made years prior to WW2. Well provided the war effort hadn't ended all trade and entertainment, will eventually move this ahead barring interaction..well I hope for SOME so I don't have to double post.)
 
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Moving forward, Jack was grinding his teeth and squinting his eyes as he scanned the horizon, his fingers gently brushing against the triggers of his war machine's weapons. He made a gentle attempt to move his legs and his neck, to assure himself that he was locked in. He listened to the banter playing over communication, and spoke up when he was sure the others were done talking. His voice, soft and measured, but easily audible.
"How long 'till we make it to the war? I'm getting anxious over here."

He looked down over the hills they were roaring over, and looked forward. He thought to himself, was there a finer place he could have been sent to fight than on the beaches of Normandy? He had a solemn pride, and a quiet determination that rose above any feeling in the pit of his stomach and demanded he fight with everything he's got.
"Not saying saying that I'm not ready though... I'm at least as close to ready as I can get."

He looked back, at Drago's TSF. It didn't look like anything particularly funny at first, and then Jack focused a little more on it. A dragon ravenously devouring donuts. After a good chuckle, Jack added another mental note;

Don't screw with anyone who can tamper with his TSF.
 
"Not very likely." Kosuke replied to the American before cutting the communications link all together. He pulled up the map of England taking a look at how close they'd gotten to their destination, to Europe. Closer than he had expected, pulling up a tactical map of Normandy Kosuke took the next several minutes pouring over the topography of the beach and the great sea wall beyond focusing little on the flat meadows beyond. 'We get bogged down on the beach and there's no way this breaks out of that. The BETA'll simply pour over the sea wall, only the TSFs will be able to withdraw under an assault like that.' he thought, the bleak realization of just how much of a last-ditch effort this invasion was settling on his mind. He smiled and let out a sigh, "Just my kind of mission." he said aloud.

The other American opened a line to the unit and asked about how close they were, 'Are we there yet?' Kosuke thought mockingly. He pulled up the map of England and quickly threw up some icons to identify the relative positions of them and the naval forces, then transferred it to Blakes' cockpit and opened a communication window with him. "The blue dot is us, blue square is the naval forces. Any land to the East is Normandy." he quite literally pointed East in his cockpit before continuing "We've got just about an hour at this speed I'd say. Keep in mind this map is relatively accurate not a solid hundred percent." pausing for a moment and then continued, "You're not the only anxious one Lieutenant." he said in an attempt to be reassuring, 'Panicked people are the worst kind of liability on the battle field.' he thought as he steeled himself to end the young man if he turned into a burden.

If Kosuke had to be completely honest with himself, he'd lost the anxious feeling before a battle long ago after countless sorties watching his unit whittled down and destroyed by the BETA. Being completely honest with himself, Kosuke could taste the disgust at his resolve to end the young Americans life if the need arose, it was coppery. With a hint of iron.
 
Marvus maintained his flight position keeping himself within the units formation, he did not have the rudeness to make a return comment, though he did have a reason for taking the number 13 though it was said to be a number for bad luck, it was better someone carried it, maybe they would mitigate that bad luck or at least draw it on to them, after all it was better that one of the oldies carried it than the nippers, he could at least rely on his experience to get himself out of issues, but that number had also served him with luck in the past, so in truth it was a mixture.

Marvus's 1.5 Gen was most likely going to be the slowest unit now with the TSA out of the picture with them in the air, though he hoped his field experience would at least make up for that delay.

In addition he continued to observe any of the open communications the others were making between each other, though he didn't step in or talk as of yet, it wasn't his place after all.
 
Erika was following the unit as per ordered, as they were approaching their destination in France. She did not pay much mind to the open comms link, as her eyes and attention was glued to the map she had before her. Going over it as her TSF was on auto-pilot. Her MiG was in good shape, and this time it wasn't a simulation. It was the real deal. However, despite being nervous, as they all were, she was much more determined to get rid of the abomination.

The Rookie Blake was going to stick by her, and hopefully, despite what he asked in the comm links, he would do just fine. Folding the map, and placing it away, she removed the auto-pilot she had enabled and used the thrusters to increase her speed. As her MiG floated through the air. "Dont let your undecisiveness drag you down, Rookie.." She made that very clear.

"And despite anything, this is the reality. Any moment you will face the BETA. Just don't go in considering it would be identical to the simulation. If anything, it is the opposite. So prepare yourself mentally for what's ahead. Liberating France is a must, with Normandy being our first target."

Increasing the speed even more, as her thrusters amped it up, she decided to ask the Major something. "Major Tatiana, if I may. What would you have us do? Once we're there? Besides removing the BETA. Is there a strategy in place sort of? Or are we going in blind?" Despite her questions, she knew that the intel was almost if not solid at best. Erika knew that despite her questions being silly and trivial, clarifying to see if everything is how its suppose to be was for the best, at least for her.
 
Having left the seaside behind some time ago, Sam began partially zoning out as they crossed patch after patch of the countryside. Similar in its formation and color there was scarcely a unique aspect about it to keep her attention. Letting a light yawn of boredom slip, her eyes watered as she focused on the chatter between her squadmates. Listening in on the other rookie and all the advice he was given she chimed in but for a different reason. "Hey, Jack." she said, addressing him informally. "Where you been out of the states so far?" she asked. Being a simple question it wasn't pertinent to answer, but would force the young American to think. With any luck, taking his mind off his anxiety if even momentarily.

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"They always blow up one way Major." Drago joked. Showing his concern for the issue was as one of light consideration. Securing the extra canisters in his arms, he looked to the map and watched as the swaud inched closer to their destination. With time and silence to think his mind eventually wandered to thoughts of home in Yugoslavia for the first time in a long while. Reminded of his father and brothers, and his time in the YPA. He began humming the tune of a song he hadn't sang since the day he last saw his brother. Slowing adding lyrics he quietly began singing to himself as one does when they're alone and their mind is elsewhere.


Hey, Slav brothers, there still lives within us,
Our ancestors' great word.
In our nation beats the eternal heart,
That their children have heard.

There still lives the Slavic spirit,
It will live forever.
Even the abyss of Hell or blazing thunder,
Is no grand endeavor.
Even the abyss of Hell or blazing thunder,
Is no grand endeavor.

Let all be blown away by a bora,
All above us shall break.
May the stone crack, may the trees bend over,
From a mighty earthquake.

We stand firmly like a mountain,
We shall forever stand.
May he be damned, he who betrays his brethren,
The traitor of his land.
May he be damned, he who betrays his brethren,
The traitor of his land.

[spoili]
[/spoili]​
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Smiling at Drago's words, Rolando's attention soon shifted to the countryside passing them by. Filled with admiration at the endless expanse, he couldn't help but to comment "So much of England's countryside reminds me of Spain's." to no one in particular. "Though, come summer time the two are incomparable. There's this little province to the north, La Rioja. Which is absolutely heavenly come that time of year. With it's hilly fields of pale wheat, green vineyards and forests, and yellow sunflowers stretching the horizon. The further north you go, the greener it becomes, transforming into mountainous forests and flowery meadows. The smell is absolutely magnificent." he continued reminiscently before hearing Lieutenant Erika ask about strategy.​
 
Listening to the Chatter there wasn't much to be said, or at least for Tatiana..well until Erika spoke to her. Blake was worried, the Brit was silent, and the Japanese was as prickly as ever. Sam was silent minus talking to the new comer. Drago was singing, and the Captain was speaking of Spain. Nothing of interest or concern..until Erika spoke up.


But the Lieutenants question was a difficult one in some manner. "I do not know of a general battle plan. That is for the Colonel and the other senior commanders to decide upon. Lieutenant, I find with the BETA it is best to not plan outside of tactics, they do not plan nor think enough to fall into your own..its an oncoming tide of stupidity and numbers."


In part there was some merit to this, but Tatiana doubted that would stop the East German pilot's worry. "Ritter Two to all units, the general plan is this. Skull Squadron will be taking lead on this flight buzzing the hills and heading North For Caen, providing fire on observable BETA formations. We and Valk flight will cover the initial landings to insure the Infantry Divisions make it ashore to dig in. We aren't expecting the BETA to be there in force. The UN Fleet is responsible for Recon and Intel, there helicopters will provide that information, plus Satellites in high earth orbit. As you know if there are lasers out there we'll know. So we are flying...by the seats of our pants? I think that is American saying? The Colonel will fill us in with more details upon arrival, but for now just be ready to act in accordance to the situation. The ground force is meant to draw them in, and the fleet to pound them. We are meant to keep the BEAT back far enough so the Fleet does not hit our support."


Killing the Feed, there really wasn't much more to say. She didn't know the general plan outside of wait for BETA, draw them in. Then let the Fleet Handle them. She knew she sure as hell wasn't going to fly out looking for them.



With all of that out of the way, it was time. Punching in a few codes with her left hand and blasting through the sky, the TSF was left in a semi auto-pilot state.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon an hour would pass, and the Fleet would come into view with a lonely Pak-Fa circling the HMS Vanguard. The Major sighs softly the responsibility was no longer hers.


"Ah Welcome all flights. I take it the Trip was uneventful? Form up and lets start over flight for the landers." Lucia's voice cuts in over all flight communication lines. "Keep low and an eye on laser warnings." Joining the formation they likely would have just enough fuel to do a few passes. Then they would have to hurry back and tank off for fuel. Fortunately the landing goes off without any serious opposition. There were a few of the smaller BETA Strands, easily dispatched by the infantry, with no need of the TSF's to use there own munitions. The helicopters still hadn't reported in, but no Lasers had lit up the sky, the fleet was safe, and a line of thick anti-laster chaff blanketed the beach.


"Ritter One to Squadron, Land where you can on the supporting tankers and the Japanese Assault ship, take a break, eat, refill, looks like the BETA want to keep us waiting. You got fifteen minutes." In a Clipped Military tone the Colonel gives her instructions they all were likely a bit tired from the trip then the overflights on the beach. The British had Dug in with the East German Division, the Americans were now landing, and the Soviet Armour was preparing to land in support. "Valk Squadron do the same but on the beachhead. We need some eyes on the ground." Bringing her own TSF into a sweep the Colonel doesn't bother to land herself. She was still good on fuel afterall. Keeping a Watchful eye on the Fleet the Pak-Fa performs a lazy circle flight around the fleet.

Now all they had to do was wait. While she wouldn't tell them what to do, she hoped the ground crews had the sense to fill them up as soon as they landed.


~~~~


Meanwhile at present speed and 15 minuets out a Lynx helicopter carries out its patrol. Minus a few blasted out landscapes, small areas of greenery or ruins, and massive stretches of rock and sand the only thing of note was the occasional Oddity.. "Spear-tip to Vanguard, Spear-tip to Vanguard..god damn chaff..Completed patrol of Sector Seven, moving to Eight. I Repeat Moving to Sector Eight, do you Copy, over?" The Pilot suddenly stops moving his stick as the co-pilot assumes command briefly to show him a source of movement he seen. Freezing instantly the Pilot quickly regains his composure to send in a report that would arrive garbled.


"Warning! Warning! BETA FORCE! Divisional! Oh Bloody Hell!..I..Wha-EVASIVE!" Dipping the Lynx into a dive followed by a twist and series of turns, a tunnel opening was there, as were two fortress class, and more Destroyer and Grappler's than the pilot could count, the evasives pay off early as two rapid moving razor chains suddenly emerge from the dust. Dodging the pairs razor like tendrils was no easy feat, now they had to get to altitude and radio this in. "Whew..Mitchel get that report ou-" Before the pilot can even finish his order another shell hole collapses under the scout helicopter..and a tendril's spiked barb ends leaves a tiny explosion too far out for anyone to notice.


The BETA were coming..and there wouldn't be any warning until the dust cloud showed over the horizon. Soon two more Helicopters would be lost, and a force ten thousand strong was thundering across the French Countryside.
 
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Kosuke was awe struck at the sight of the fleet, thousands of ships; the single largest invasion fleet to be mustered for humanity since D-Day; and he was now a part of the massive effort. Dipping low in-between a cluster of troop transports the flight made it's way to the beach, providing over head cover for the landings at the Commanders request.

'Unbelievable' he thought as he watched amphibious assault vehicles and landing craft disembarking from their motherships by the hundreds. The fleet was a formidable looking contingent, Destroyers and Cruisers, flanked by smaller Frigates and small groupings of Corvettes zig-zaging their way between the never ending transports. Kosuke amplified his zoom on an open top landing craft, the infantry inside, by the looks of it, were not having the greatest of times, many were heaving their meals onto the deck while the ones toward the front of the craft were being utterly drenched by sea water crashing over the ramp. He shivered at the thought of how cold the English Channel must be right now and switched his attention to the beach itself. The first wave of landing craft were nearing the beach head, many under a hundred meters from the shore.

The flight roared over the top of landing craft, the infantry flinching at the deafening cacophony of the more than dozen jump units as they flew by. The flight made a sweeping turn ending up parallel the beach as the infantry dismounted and began their assault. It was odd to Kosuke, having grown up seeing images of the original landings in Normandy to watch a new and entirely opposite landing taking place. Instead of formidable emplacements and overlapping meticulously designated fields of fire for weapons of war capable of spitting out twelve hundred rounds a minute the infantry were to be met by massive inhuman invaders, willing to run head long into fire as long as it meant munching on a few infantry before being offed. If there was one thing that Kosuke thought highly of the BETA, it was their unwavering remorse, but he was rather sure that was due to the fact they didn't have any emotions at all, nothing to hold them back in the first place.

Raising his Type 87 to let off a few rounds into a group of Soldier Class making their way down the cliff side he was forced to bring his aim back down as half a dozen AT rockets from the infantry ripped into the cliff side, letting off a small rock slide and leaving nothing behind of the Soldier Class but unrecognizable gore. The landing proceeded very much as that engagement did, the overwhelming odds seemed to be placed in their favor for the time being.
The Fubuki touched down with ease on the rocking Assault Ship, if there was anything that a Japanese TSF could be counted on for, it was it's very sensitive handling meant for close combat, which also made it easier to finely adjust movements in any other area. Kosuke placed the Fubuki into a kneeling position and popped his cockpit, he stood from his chair as the cockpit was still sliding forward and simply dropped to the flight deck. A group of grapes pulling a refueling line to his TSF stopped a stared at the spectacle before quickly hooking up the line and starting the flow.

Picking his way across the flight deck he made for the most forward door, stepping into the passageway he was immediately forced to squeeze against the far bulkhead as a group of red shirts made to exit the same door he had just entered. He continued down the passageway for about thirty meters before stopping to ask directions. "Gera wa doko ni arimasu ka?"[Where is the galley] he asked a passing sailor who simply pointed aft and replied "5-125-2-Q". Kosuke gave the sailor a smile and made his way to the compartment, getting turned around only once he finally found his way to the galley, five decks below and a hundred and twenty five frames back was squeezed the most obscure galley in the entire ship, barely large enough for fifty people. 'Must be the Officers mess.' he realized remembering the odd separation that the Navy emphasized between officers and enlisted.

Finishing his meal of what he could only have placed as some form of re-hydrated mashed potatoes and a meat substitute along with a small bowl of rice, he put up his tray and made his way up. 'Go up and eventually I'll make it out of this ship.' he thought sarcastically as he returned his seventy eighth salute since he entered the ship. rising through a hatch and onto the flight deck, he was forced to shield his eyes at the sudden brightness of the sun. Surveying the flight deck he quickly found his Fubuki right where he had left it to no surprise. He made his way back to it, letting down the small line that would hoist him back to the cockpit.

"Ritter 8, refueled and ready to sortie." he said over the main communication link as his cockpit hissed shut around him.
 
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Landing her A-10 with the grace of an elephant. Sam touched down with a loud thud as the full weight of her TSA dropped aboard an assault ship. Forgoing the suggested rest and meal, she slipped out of her cockpit and sat on its edge. No stranger to hunger, the sensation barely registered in her mind which was elsewhere as she stared at the beaches off in the distance. Only taking her attention away to watch the navy crew refueling her TSA and the TSF around her, she eagerly awaited the BETA's arrival. Having already made a few passes and seen the invasion's start she knew it would only be a matter of time before things really heated.

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Hoping out of his MiG, the giant serb was greeted by worried looks of crewmen as they tended to his TSF. Paying them no mind nor the hazard his machine posed for the deck, he strolled to the lower levels in hopes of picking up a meal. While not long since he'd last eaten, his body seemed to burn through calories like a nuclear reactor. Ducking under walkways and getting lost after a few passages he had to ask the help of several people to get where he needed to go. Eventually entering what could pass as a kitchen he grabbed a tray of whatever they were serving and scarfed it down without patience or prudence. Tilting it to drink the last drop he rose and left the tray with the cooks before retracing his steps. While not one for direction, Drago seemingly didn't have any problems returning the way he came. Within minutes he was once back outside on the deck stretching to get the kinks out from the long flight and beach passes.

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Unlike the rest Rolando remained in his TSF for the duration of the break. Resting what little he could in the machine, below the crew refueled his Rafale with expectant looks toward his cockpit. Having served before in battles who's duration seemed to go on for days he was fit for endurance even in his old age. Looking out at the beaches as many others were he was determined to be prepared in the case that the BETA unexpectedly appeared as they were common to do. Listening in on the command channels for the invasion it seemed things were progressing smoothly enough, but that was likely to change.
 
As he made his final approach, Marvus relayed for a landing point from the Control crew aboard the vessel, after all it was their boat and when your a guest on someones vessel it is wise after all to treat it with respect.

When Marvus's unit touched down it came in with a rather normal fashion touching down as lightly as possible as to not cause a massive shift on the ship, he set down, locking down his unit for what would be needed to be done next, though Marvus decided to stay within his unit, after all their was no point leaving the zone while you were moving into active combat, Marvus took note that another member of the team, Rolando also remained within his unit, the guy was an old veteran maybe he was following a similar motto to Marvus himself.

The sound of refueling pipes being locked down as the maintenance crew began their quick turn around to get these birds back in the sky, the hum of generators and the swirl of the sea, it was somewhat relaxing, the closest to relaxing you could get in this place at the very least.
 
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Jack had considered Sam's question, and quickly compiled a list of the places he remembered being.
"I grew up in Dayton, Ohio, sort of near the outskirts of the city. We weren't rich, so we didn't travel a lot. Never really went anyway more than two states away. Went to California once. I signed up for the Military and trained in a base that wasn't too far away. And now I'm here."

Jack managed to touch down onto the ship with little difficulty, though he went about landing slowly. He quickly got out and climbed down, quickly stretching himself out after having just sat down for that long. He slowly walked across the deck of the ship and peered out towards the beach to observe entire waves of soldiers being sent to the beaches as he visualsed the scenes of what Normandy must have been like on D-Day. Terrifying business, that must have been... It was strange though, in the coming battle, the roles would be reversed, with the defenders running face-first into the guns of the attackers.

His face had a blank expression the whole time he was thinking, and he quietly said, to nobody in particular, for a variety of reasons;
"...Damn."

He decided he might as well take the chance to say something to someone before they were knee-deep in a writhing sea of freaky alien monsters. Sam was closest to him, and was also staring at the stuff going on, so he looked over and spoke.
"Hey Sam..., how are you holding up? I mean... I'm mostly okay, except a bad feeling in my stomach..." He glanced over to the beach before looking back at her.
 
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Flying over the Formation the Colonel keeps her speed locked in at cruise, in order to stay airborne during the recovery efforts, and the battle that was sure to come. Though it would be nice to put the Pak-Fa in its paces over the formation. Put on a little air show. But this was not the time or place



"Ritter One to Vanguard over. Status?" Asking over the headset its not long till a clipped English male tone replies. "Vanguard COMM Here, Vanguard Actual has nothing to report, we still are waiting on our Helicopters, cloud and dust cover over much of the local region. Admiral says relax Lieutenant Colonel. Our boys and the Jerrie's have dug in, Americans are rolling out. Soviets are being kept in reserve with their tanks...But aye we have air recon up, nothing to report. Vanguard out." Having heard the reply, Lucia can't say shes very happy with it. They had enough naval support, but most of the ground forces were set to land in the North and South. Turning another Lazy loop it seemed most of her squadron had landed aboard the Assault Ship. Not that it was too surprising, most of them likely didn't want to risk landing on the support ships, though three had no choice in the matter. The ship had but so much room. From the looks of it, the Romanian, French, and the Egyptian. The Japanese didn't take very long to return to his own unit. It seemed he went to eat while fueling and returned as quickly.


And equally as quickly requester permission to rejoin the formation. "Affirmative Ritter 8, Join the formation on my 4 o'clock, how was the meal?" Mostly out of curiosity Lucia asks, having been largely unfamiliar with Japanese cuisine. And to see if all was well with this pilot. He was very dutiful. Something she could respect, but Lucia was pondering if it really were so simple. Regardless they wouldn't have long to talk more likely than not.

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Landing in her own Mig-29 in the forward most hold the Major was all too happy to cut power to the engines. Opening the cockpit, Tatiana wastes very little time jumping down from the TSF's kneeling frame. Snapping a return Salute to the XO it was more a formality that honestly didn't matter outside of mannerisms. "Major Terekeyevna Requesting Permission to come aboard for provisions and fuel on behalf of Lieutenant Colonel Ebner and her supporting flights."


Snapping his hand down the Japanese Sailor bows low, his voice sounding somewhat automated as his collar translator speaks for him. "Affirmative, I Commander Shinzu on behalf of his Imperial Highness welcome you aboard our ship, may the Divine Wind ever carry your Wings Major." Turning on his heel there was nothing else he needed to do...or rather there was plenty he needed to do, just not here with the TSF Grinder, he in particular wasn't happy with so few TSF's, his Captain wasn't happy with there being so many Gaijin TSF's. But neither man had to be happy.


Watching the various crew snacking, or heading below for full on meals Tatiana takes the time to approach a crew chief, mostly to see his food...it was raw fish and..a strange brown soup. Being totally alien to the Soviet Officer the Esper already had a restricted diet as was. Well there was her ration bars.. Noticing the others doing there own thing she didn't feel a particular need to be sociable.


Looking out over the railing towards the Beach there were too many people here for a reading to have much effect..or rather she would likely start bleeding from the nose if she attempted such. In place feeling out those she could see, there was a bit of worry among them. It was interesting seeing the beach however. Some Relics from the last war were there, some new shell holes. What was the most amusing was seeing a burned out Tornado TSF on the sure, with what seemed to be the washed up remains of a M4 Sherman somehow.


Stretching against the railing as best as she could to loosen her joints, the Major fingers her eye patch, watching as Squads of American Soldiers disembark. Elsewhere Soviet Soldiers were boarding hovercraft, or doing final checks on straps, well over 800 armored vehicles of various type were with them. While it would help, the Navy was meant to do much of the fighting. The TSF's and Infantry were to soak and cut. Depending on what came.. With a soft smile touching her lips, some of the crew members hurriedly rush to fill her fighter, among the rest. With a slight snort coming from her nose, it seemed the Japanese Pilot was among the first to land and leave. Not that it matter the Colonel could use the company. "..I'm hungry.."
 
"I'm all right." Sam said calmly before taking her gaze away from the beaches. Looking down at Jack from her TSA she added. "Probably your gut expecting what's next." Referencing that the invasion had just started and was going to become much worse in the passing minutes. Just like the simulation there would be cries of desperation and blood soaked death everywhere. "Should skip the meal. Unless you don't mind seeing it twice." She advised him, regarding his complaint. Stretching her arms afterward, Sam looked around the ship to see who else was there before asking. "Kosuke still giving you shit?

@Dahrinn
 
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Sighing, the other American docked his own unit before disembarking. After hopping out, the first thing he did was a few simple stretches, rotating his neck and arms to get the blood flowing again. It had been a long—mostly uneventful flight. During the flight, Michael had already figured out who was designated as the team's shit-talker per say. He didn't really mind though. Caine tried to be respectful and helpful when he could, but he could easily retort if need be. He knew the guy probably saw him as some ignorant kid, but he didn't very much care for bullies—not that he really had a right to say that considering he could've been thought as one not so long ago.

Shaking his head to the memories of past days, Michael took a look around. The majority just hopped out and went off on their own to eat, even the "designated shit-talker" didn't waste any time in getting some grub. Though there were a couple that stayed behind, the one American woman for one who appeared to be trying to put a nervous comrade at ease. Thinking on it, Caine probably wouldn't want to waste time getting some nourishment himself. He went straight from the flight to the base to flying over to here. There was no telling when he would next get to eat, or if at all again—No, bad thoughts.

Making his way down, he noticed the Major to be amused by—something. She seemed awfully calm about the current situation. Then again, going from her appearance, she had probably been through quite a bit and learned to relax the few times you had the chance to. Even though Michael seemed for the most part at peace, he was of course still a bit nervous.

"Enjoying yourself, Major?" Michael called out. Looking at her, he had to admit that he expected her to be—scarier? Or more intimidating. Then again, she probably was when she didn't have a smile on her face.
 
The Fubuki roared into view of the Commanders Pak-Fa, falling into a close echelon formation. "The meal was about what would be expected of the Navy Ma'am." he said as he shuffled through a few sensors on his screen. 'Radar shows clear, as do imaging and Heat... This is too quiet for an invasion.' he thought as he brought himself back to the Commander, "A bit of rice and potatoes, with some sort of meat substitute. If I had to take a guess I would say that two thirds of it was probably supplied by the Americans." he said, "Probably the only useful thing they had done until recently was feed the populations." the spite in his voice was noticeable, but nowhere near as bad as it had been earlier, after all it wasn't exactly a lie.

He gave the commanders TSF a look over, he had only heard of it in whispers and jokes. Nobody had actually believed that the Soviets had gone and not only reverse engineered the American F-22, but actually succeeded in making it equal, if not better than the F-22, was quite the shock. 'I wonder how many people died to get everything they needed to build that.' Kosuke thought, the spy games played by many of the surviving countries was vicious and the KGB and CIA tended to be at the center of anything that went down no matter how much both Governments denied it.

"So that's the Pak-Fa we've all heard of Commander... Is it, as good as the whispers say...?" he was sure his question would get shot down, and had they not been in the middle of a combined fleet with a minority of Soviet troops he was a solid eighty-twenty that his Fubuki would have suffered: "Undetermined Mechanical Failure" likely resulting in his end. He was slightly relieved that wasn't the case, and against his best judgement pressed on. "Back in Japan, there were circles, people who knew things that nobody else knew why they did. And that Pak-Fa was at the center of it all, heard plenty of rumors." he said as he smiled, a small bead of sweat rolled down his forehead which he calmly wiped away, 'This is the most under pressure I've been in a long time. Humanity is much more frightening than the BETA' he thought. 'At least you can tell what the BETA is thinking at all times.'

"Would be nice if you could differentiate fact from fiction with that TSF." he started, "At least the stuff that won't have me mysteriously disappear when I accidentally wander onto the Soviet area on base that is."
 
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