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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1383079045769.jpg-(36 KB, 872x499, Wellowan Flag.jpg)
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All around you, the stillness of an arctic night is shattered by the roar of multiple high-performance aircraft. At this latitude, the clear skies above are dotted with innumerable pinpricks of starlight, accompanied by the glimmering of the Aurora Borealis.

You are Second Lieutenant Erik "Stitch" Almsbeck of the Wellowan Navy, and godsdamned, that is a lot of ice. Of course, being native to Wellow, you were intimately familiar with that particular state of matter, but it still surprises you every time you go up as to just how much of the damn stuff was floating along out there.

Of course, why exactly you and your three other flight-mates were even up tonight to begin with was the question that was on your mind. Before you could voice your questions, the radio crackles to life with the sound of one of your flight member's voice.

"Okay, enough with this cloak-and-dagger stuff. Lead, can you explain exactly why our training schedule was high-jacked by a couple of guys who radiate the feeling of being spooks? Because last time I checked, being dragged out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn and stuffed into a jet that has a malfunctioning heater-" at this, the sound of a heavy boot thudding on metal could be heard clear over the radio "- is NOT my idea of downtime"
>>
For once, Simon is right. You weren't even supposed to be on-line today. In fact, flight operations for the entire squadron were supposed to be suspended for some reason or another, at least for a week or so, with most of the crews on rest. But this morning, a pair of non-descript men wearing non-descript black suits dragged you and your flight out of bed and told you to get up in the air, without any further explanation. Not exactly a relaxing day at Eleven Islands Naval Base.

The gruff voice of your flight lead filtered out of the radio, rousing you from your thoughts. "I know little more then you do. All I was told was to take my flight on a specific heading and report anything unusual. Beyond that, I'm as clueless as you."

Silence descended on your four-ship formation as you sliced through the night, the only sounds being the roar of the engines and the rushing of air over wings.

The silence was broken by a quiet voice, that belonging to your own wingman, or wingwoman as the case may be, "Stitch, what do you think about all of zhis?"

>Positive
>Negative
>Neutral
>>
>>28006609
>>Neutral
>This is why we are here, let's just stay alert.
>We can all sleep when we are dead, and I'm not that tired yet.
>Let's just do our jobs
>>
>>28006599
For the love of god, stop mixing tenses. I like what you're doing but the tenses...
>>
>>28006609
>Neutral
>>
>>28006609
>Neutral
>>
>>28006609
>Neutral
We were on break, but it IS our job to scramble when shit hits the fan, and two spooks being forced to depend on a trainer squadron counts, I think.
>>
>Neutral
You trigger the intercom button on the stick, glancing off to your right at the dark shape that was Misha's fighter. "It doesn't really matter what I think Misha, they're valid orders, and we should follow them. That's our job. So make sure to keep your head on a swivel. You don't want to crash because you got distracted, nor do you want to miss anything that might be of importance."

A scoff follows your words, the timbre indicates that the speaker was Simon. "Please. The brass don't care about us. If we crash, they can say that it was a tragic accident resulting from a malfunction of the oxygen system or something. And if there IS something out there, it'll likely be something we wouldn't even be able to deal with. I mean, look at all these quote unquote superweapons that have cropped up. First was Excalibur over in Belka. Then it was Stonehenge over in San Salvacion, and I've also heard rumors that the Erusians have something cooked up over in the mountains. Face it, we're expendable. That's why they sent us to look instead of one of those hotshot recon pilots. I'll bet-"

He is cut off by your flight lead. "Cut the chatter Simon. Stitch is right. We were given lawful orders, and it's our duty to follow them. Now, keep your eyes peeled."

Almost as if to put a period on the end of his sentence, you see a bright flash out of the corner of your eye, almost directly to your left side.

>Keep quiet, it is probably just your imagination
>Report the flash, better safe then sorry.
>Other
>>
>>28007097
>Report the flash, better safe then sorry.
>>
>>28007097
>>Report the flash, better safe then sorry.
>Cut Chatter!
>possible contact nine o'clock, spread out!
>>
>>28007097
>Report the flash, better safe then sorry.
>Other: Possible contact, break!
>>
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Rolled 86

>>28007097
OP is kill or otherwise occupied?

>pic related
>>
>Report the flash, better safe then sorry.

"Uhh, boss. I think I saw something off our left wing. Looked like a bright flash, but it was out of the corner of my eye, and was gone in a second."

There is a moment's pause as everyone digests this information.

"Roger that Lieutenant, I saw it too. So unless it's both of our minds acting up, this might just be what the brass is looking for. I'll kick it up to Baseplate, and let them determine what's going on. Until then, continue to keep your eyes out. And be prepared to break at a moments notice, just in case."

A chorus of affirmatives follow, and seemingly as one, all four of your flight members increase their spread. Your eyes roam around the sky, straining to see farther, to detect even a hint of what's going on. You hear the click of the radio as your flight lead switches radio frequencies, presumably to that of the higher-ups.

Moments go by with nothing to show for it, until the radio clicks again and your headset blares into your ear with the sound of his voice.

"Alright Ford flight, listen up. I bumped the report up the chain, and once again they aren't telling me anything other then to wait. So until we get confirmation on our report, we're going to-" He is cut off by a new voice, this one seemingly older and just a tad excited.

"Ford flight, this is AWACS callsign Starchild. We have unknown contacts forty miles from you and closing, bearing 0-4-5, unknown altitude. You are directed to intercept and identify. You may not fire unless fired upon first. Understood?"

>Affirmative
>Request more information
>Negative
>>
>>28007566
>Affirmative
>>
>>28007566
>Request more information
"How many contacts, Starchild? And what's their speed?"
>>
Rolled 40

>>28007566
>>Affirmative
>Stay frosty guys! That prob won't be a problem for you Simon!
>It is on
>>
>>28007566
>Affirmative
>>
>Affirmative
You reply in the affirmative, followed quickly by the rest of your flight. Not much else you can do, at least not at the moment. You let out a breath that you were unaware that you had been holding. Intercepting aircraft wasn't exactly an unfamiliar routine. Up here, there was the occasional polar flight that lost track of where they were and wandered off from the established flight paths. But there was something in the controller's voice that made this particular intercept different.

Your flight lead comes back on, breaking the silence. "You heard the man Ford, time for us to earn our paychecks. When we intercept whoever these goons are, Simon, you and I are going taking their left wing. Almsbeck, you're on the right wing and Misha, take the rear position. Almsbeck, you can have the honor of making contact. Remember, master arm switches on unless I say otherwise. And for my sake, be careful. You three are too young for me to be knocking on your mom's door."

The comms go quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts until Starman announces more range and bearing information. "Ford flight, Starchild here. Range is now less then ten miles out. You should be able to get a visual soon."

Indeed, you finally are able to see them. They were mere specks at first, soon growing much larger, until they seem to fill your canopy. Four large, multi-engine aircraft. Certainly not a polar re-supply flight that got lost.

You trigger the radio button. "I have visual. Contacts are four Tu-95's. Repeat, four Bear bombers. They either don't see us, or don't care."

The four of you split off, each taking their assigned positions, with you off to the right of the formation. You switch to GUARD and trigger the transmit button.

>Friendly. They're probably just lost.
>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much.
>Aggressive. Foreign military in YOUR airspace? Not for long...
>>
>>28007566

>Request more information
>>
>>28008018
>Neutral
>>
>>28008018
>Aggressive. Foreign military in YOUR airspace? Not for long...
>>
>>28008018
>>Aggressive. Foreign military in YOUR airspace? Not for long...

>This is Second Lieutenant Erik "Stitch" Almsbeck of the Wellowan Navy to Tu-95; Beak your course and follow us to landingstrip for boarding.
>This is the first and final warning
>>
>>28008018
>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much.
If they were friendly and just lost, they'd already be transmitting their IFF codes.
>>
>>28008088
Beak=Break
>>
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>>28008018
>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much.
No need to stir the hornets nest.
>>
>>28008088
We're not the flight lead and we were just told no firing unless fired upon.
And haven't you considered why they're so unconcerned with being pinged by a squadron of interceptors?
>>
>>28008152
I'm concerned cause they seem so unconcerned.
Hence the pew-pew.
I'm already downvoted, so why don't you just focus on your own shit? Nigger
>>
>>28008018

>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much

We have orders not to fire first, but that's no reason to get all buddy buddy with them. Something's certainly up.
>>
>>28008018
>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much.
Ford 1, Ford 2, request permission to detach element for top cover.
>>
>Neutral. Don't want to anger them too much.
"Attention unidentified military aircraft. This is Lieutenant Almsbeck piloting the fighter off of your right wing. You are approaching Wellowan military airspace. Please open your bomb bays and set a course for our beacon. Lower your gear if you understand. Any hostile action will be responded to in kind."

You hear the whisper of Misha in your ear. "Do you think they will listen? I mean, for all four bombers in a single group to all have failure of their navigation systems is a bit of a stretch."

Before you can respond, your warning reciever blares. Almost on instinct, you force the stick forward, your aging plane shuddering under the sudden load of negative G's. Simultaniously, you trigger the intercom. "Heads up, I'm being spiked! They may not be alone out here"

Almost the second the words leave your mouth, your flight lead pipes up. "We're being fired upon! All planes break. Weapons free."

Your warning reciever blares again, this time indicating a missile launched from below you, 6:30.

>Break left, towards your wingman
>Break right, away from the missile
>>
Question: What are we flying? It was said the planes were aging. F4? F5? Mig21? (Please be F5)
>>
>>28008542
>>Break right, away from the missile
>>
>>28008542
>Break right, away from the missile
>>
>>28008542
>>Break left, towards your wingman

What could possibly go wrong?
>>
>>28008542
>Break right, away from the missile
>>
>>28008542
>>Break left, towards your wingman
>>
>>28008542
>Break right, away from the missile
"Starchild, Ford 2, defensive, no joy on bandits."
>>
>Break right, away from the missile
You force the stick to the right, causing the plane to stand on it's wing. You pull the stick into your chest, grunting with exertion as the F-5 responds, pulling into as tight of a turn as you believe it can go without the wings ripping off. Your vision starts to get hazy as the G's pile on, yet you manage to lift your head enough to look out of the top of the canopy. Vaguely, you can see the bright pinprick that was the missile knifing through the dark, it's seeker head intent on finding it's target. You flash back momentarily to training, your instructors words echoing in your mind, 'if you can see the missile, you can defeat it.'

You can feel the blood in your feet pulsing in time to your heartbeat as you relax your turn just a touch. You can almost hear the small fighter sigh in relief as some of the G's are reduced, at least temporarily. You watch as the missile flashes past, more then one hundred feet from your fighter.

Now that the current threat is eliminated, you call out. "Starchild, this is Ford 3. Just defeated a missile. Bogey dope"

The reassuring voice of the AWACS controller fills your ears. "Ford 3, the Bears are continuing on their flight path, heading three-one-five. I also have four enemy fighters of unknown type currently engaged with the rest of Ford flight. Be advised, the fighters seem to be unwilling to persue kills and seem to be content merely to keep you away from the bombers. Fords One and two are currently tailing a pair of fighters. Ford 4 has claimed a kill on one bomber."

>Engage the fighters.
>Engage the bombers.
>>
>>28009091

>Engage the fighters

Ford 4, take out the remaining bombers. I'll keep the fighters off you.
>>
>>28009091
>Engage the bombers.
Kill the bombers, the fighters will lose interest.
>>
>>28009091
>>Engage the bombers.
>>
>>28009121
>Engage the fighters

FOX-TWO ALL DAY ERREY DAY MUTHAFUCKAS
>>
>>28009091
>Engage the fighters.
>>
>>28009091
>>Engage the bombers.
the fighters will not do any damage to our ground installations, hence bombers are prioritized targets
>>
>>28009091
>Ford 4 has claimed a kill on one bomber.
Son of a bitch we're gonna get yelled at for this.
>Engage the fighters.
>>
>>28009091
>Engage the fighters.
>>
>>28009285
Why? We were fired upon first.

>Engage the fighters
>>
>>28009254

The bombers aren't in range of anything squishy yet, so we mop up the fighters and join Ford 4 in taking out the bombers later once we're clear.
>>
>Engage the fighters
You take a moment to catch your breath, clear your head and glance at your sensor data. Using that data, you create a mental map of the combat space in your head. Three heavy bombers heading slow and dumb towards your home airbase and the primary naval base for this region of the arctic, intentions and payload unknown. Four fighters of unknown model trying to keep friendly forces from engaging said bombers, but not really pursuing said engagements to a conclusion. Two allied fighters mixing it up with the enemy fighters and one engaging the bombers. At this point, with what information you have, it seems as though engaging the bombers was the priority. But, in order to do that well, you had to have clear skies.

"Ford 4, this is 3. Continue engaging the bombers, I'll keep the fighters off your back." Your radio clicks twice, signaling agreement. You take a breath, trying to calm your nerves as much as possible, before you turn the nose towards the battle. From this distance, you can see the barest glinting of moonlight off of metal, along with occasional flashes of missile launches. Glancing down at your radar, you can see the icons representing the bombers, followed by that representing Ford 4. You could also see two icons representing fighters closing in, one on either side. Bogey One was at a much better angle to launch at Misha, but was also farther away from you. You could also risk launching at both, and that would likely scatter them, but at the same time, you'd be down to half of your remaining missiles.

>Launch at Bandit One. More dangerous, but also more difficult to hit.
>Launch at Bandit Two. Easier to hit, but more dangerous to your wingman
>Launch missiles at both.
>>
>>28009677

>Both

There's just 4 fighters, we have 3 wingmen, and I always use guns to take out bombers in Ace Combat anyway. We can afford to waste missiles.
>>
>>28009677
>Launch at Bandit One. More dangerous, but also more difficult to hit.
>>
>>28009677

>Launch at Bandit One. More dangerous, but also more difficult to hit.

We only have 4 missiles? What kind of Ace Combat is this?! I was expecting like 30.
>>
>>28009715
>Fire at Bandit 2

Take out the easy target, team up on the dangerous one.
>>
>Launch at Bandit One. More dangerous, but also more difficult to hit.
You know you have to save your missiles. You have sixteen missiles between the entire flight, and seven targets to hit. While normally, that would mean that the numbers would be in your favor, you don't know exactly how many missiles have been used already. You would hazard a guess that Misha expended at least one in downing the one bomber. And judging by the number of flashes in the vicinity of Fords 1 and 2, they probably used part of their load too. And while on a typical flight, that wouldn't be a problem as each aircraft would be toting close to thirty missiles, this isn't close to typical. Whoever it was that had loaded the planes obviously didn't expect any combat, as the fighters were loaded mainly with drop tanks.

You shake your head, reminding yourself to find someone to yell at later and instead focus on the task at hand. You reach forward and flick the master arm switch on the control panel and select the left wingtip rail. The seeker pops up on your HUD, winding up and down the screen as it searches for targets. When the seeker diamond passes over the box enclosing the bandit, you hear a loud growling in your ear, signifying that the seeker of the Sidewinder had detected a valid heat source. You suck in a breath, before triggering the microphone. "Ford Three, Fox One"

(1/2)
>>
The moment you pull the trigger, time seems to slow to a crawl. You see the flash of the rocket motor igniting out of the corner of your eye. The missile shoots forward, causing your craft to rock and lean slightly due to the sudden uneven weight distribution. The missile races forward, and in the glow of the motor, you can see the missile's fins working as it crosses the gulf between your craft and the bandit. The bandit breaks left, but it's too late. The missile veers after the bandit and as soon as it's within twenty feet of the target, a miniature sun appears then disappears in an instant, leaving smoking, twisted metal in it's wake.

"Ford Three, splash one fighter."

Even as what's left of the enemy fighter spirals to the frozen surface, a bomber explodes far in front of you, followed almost instantly by another flash as a fighter disappears to your left.

"Ford One, splash one fighter"

"Ford Four, splash one bomber"

And just like that, the enemy force dwindles from seven aircraft to four, facing an equal number of allied fighters. It seems as though that's enough, as the remaining enemies start to turn around and run for home.

>Chase enemy aircraft.
>Leave them be.
>>
>>28010271
>Leave them be.
And we should mark where those fighters went down for later retrieval of their pilots.
>>
>>28010271
>Leave them be.
>>
>>28010271
>Leave them be.

Let them go and determine what the fuck just happened.
>>
>>28010271
>Leave them be.

So I just caught up, just an F-5? Well, there are worse fighters to use I guess.
>>
>>28010651
IRL the things right around 50 years old,
a bit better than the phantom, but f-16 would be ideal "starter plane"
>>
>>28010783

Eh, to be honest I'd prefer an F-15.
>>
>>28010783
actually the f4 was in service almost 10 years after the f5 was retired, so that might not even be true
it's basically the 'murrican Fishbed
>>28010836
>f-15
>starting out
what do you think this is? Electrosphere?
>>
>>28010244
>>28010271

OP, I have to point this out: Fox codes point out what kind of weapon is being discharged. One is a slaved radar guided missile, two is a heatseeker, three a self radar guided missile and four is on-board cannons.

The AIM-9 Sidewinder is a heat seeker, so launching those is fox-two. The AIM-120 AMRAAM is for example a self guided missile, fox-three while the AIM-7 Sparrow is slaved, fox-one.

Also, >leave them be

Honor is crucial. If we gain a rep for being honorable in combat, we can expect the same in return.
>>
>>28010891
>actually the f4 was in service almost 10 years after the f5 was retired
>Implying F-5's are out of service

Korea, Singapore, a bunch of kebab countries, Brazil, among others still have active F-5s
>>
>>28011143
Oh, and F4s are still active in Turkey, Greece, and Japan.
>>
>>28011143
right, ignore that
though wiki page doesn't specify which are F-5II
>>
>>28011248
that is to say, F-5E Tiger II as opposed to F-5A Tiger
>>
>Leave them be.
You watch as the enemies turn tail, noting that they were not heading back in the direction from whence they came, but were flying towards the Fato Federation. Interesting, that could bear some watching.

Your flight leader speaks up, shaking you out of your reverie. "Alright gentlemen and lady. Everyone in one piece?" You start to nod, before remembering that the rest can't actually see you.

"Ford Two, I'm good. One missile and a full gun load remaining. I'm at bingo plus thirty fuel. Easily enough to make it back, as long as we don't run into any more unknown enemies."

You pipe up as well. "Ford Three here, I'm fine. One missile expended, bingo plus fifteen remaining."

Misha chimes in as well. "Ford Four, my plane is lightly damaged. Took a couple of cannon rounds to the wing, but no major damage. I'm winchester on missiles and I've got about half a load of cannon remaining."

Your flight lead seems to ruminate on this for a moment, before replying. "Alright then. Weapons cold at this time. Form up on me for the return trip to Eleven Islands."

Three confirmations later, you point your nose towards where the radar set shows your flight lead to be. After several moments, aircraft seem to materialize out of the night as your formation reforms. Even at this distance, you can vaguely see the figure in the lead plane looking around, as if he was counting his chicks before his voice crackled over the airwaves.

"Starchild, this is Ford flight. Remaining bandits are bugging out and the gang's all here. Any news for us?"

"Ford flight, this is Starchild. We confirm splashing of four bandits. Nice shooting. Remind me to buy you all a drink whenever I get a chance"

(Cont.)
>>
The flight back was absolutely uneventful, unless Simon goofing off is considered an event. You barely have time for the engines to spool down before a pair of suits, probably spooks, approaches the plane. You look around and surely enough, everyone else in your flight is receiving the same treatement. Not knowing what else to do, you follow them to the headquarters of the naval base, a imposingly tall building of iron and concrete. You navigate a confusing series of hallways, security checkpoints and armed guards, before you're lead into a room with no windows and an array of semi-comfortable chairs, some of which are already occupied.

Your entire flight crew, from the pilots themselves to the mechanics and techs were peppered throughout the room, some of whom were talking among themselves. Arrayed along one wall was a group of people that you have never seen before. You surmised that those were the crew of the AWACS that had assisted you. They must have been much closer to the base then you had been, in order to have reached it before you did.

You were about to head over to your flight, when the door burst open. The newcomer was short and stocky, and the first thought you had of him was that of a bulldog. Then you saw the stars on his shoulder, and like everyone else, you snapped to a salute.

"At ease gentlemen. And lady. Please, take a seat."

Almost as one, the entire crowd found themselves a seat facing the screen which hung from the ceiling. "Before we start the debriefing, are there any questions?"

>Any questions?
>>
>>28011397

"Why the hell were we pulled out of leave to intercept a hostile bomber flight without even a warning that they were going to shoot us?"
>>
>>28011397
"Any word on the recovery of those pilots we splashed, sir?"
Dying by being shot id one thing, but freezing to death is a bad way to go.
>>
>>28011498
this
need to know who was trying to kill us, if my genre sense is on, it's not the obvious answer
>>
>>28011397
>"Yes, which one of you jackasses sent us in with less than combat load?"
>>
You raise your hand shyly, almost as if you were back in grade-school. At his nod, you speak up. "Sir, is there any word on the recovery of the downed pilots? Because, and I don't know if I speak for everyone here, dying from a gunshot or shrapnel is one thing. But drowning or freezing to death? Not the way I'd want to go."

The general nods to one of the other officers standing in the room, this one bearing the silver eagle of a Colonel, who responded. "As soon as we received word that there was enemy action, we scrambled the rescue choppers. They were successfully able to fish twelve airmen out of the water. The other four were lost. They are currently one their way here, then from here they're probably going to be shipped to a detainment facility. From what little we were able to gather they are of mixed nationality, presumably mercenaries."

At this, Simon stands. "Sir, with all due respect, why in the hell were we pulled off of crew rest to intercept a hostile bomber flight, without even a tidbit of information that they might want to shoot at us? And furthermore, why were we only given the bare minimum of ordinance?"

The general raises an eyebrow. "Very good questions Lieutenant. I'll even ignore the hostility. As to your questions, the first will be answered. As to the second, I'm not entirely sure. I can only suppose that the orders got mixed up somewhere. We'll look into that. Now, if there are no other questions, shall we begin?"

(1/3)
>>
The general stood at the lectern in the front of the room. "Now, a little bit of background. For the past three weeks, we have received reports of curious anomalies in the middle of the Arctic Ocean, similar to the Aurora but much stronger. To the degree that it had disrupted some of the more sensitive electronics here on base. We were extremely unsure as to what was causing these disturbances, as it certainly wasn't natural. We sent a recon satellite over the area where the disturbances were reported, but no dice, there was nothing unusual. So, it was decided to send in some human eyes. Problem was, as we weren't sure what was causing it, and as a result we didn't want to risk one of our valuable reconnaissance aircraft."

At this, Simon nudges you and whispers something in your ear that sounded vaguely like "expendable," but you ignore it, your attention focused on the general.

(2/3)
>>
"So, it was decided that we would send in a flight of fighters. And it just so happened that you were the ones that were lucky enough to have had the required crew rest. And of course, happened to be close enough." At this, he scowled. "We certainly weren't expecting bombers. And even less expected were fighters. Or else we would have sent in pilots that were more experienced. And of course, you were there for what happened. Now then, as to what happens next, we don't really know. Our scientists will need to check the data from your craft, but the current theory is that those disturbances are due to some sort of cloaking field. Which would explain why our radar couldn't detect the aircraft until it was too late."

He nods again, seemingly at nothing. "But that's for later. For now, get some rest, all of you. If what some of us suspect is true, you all may be seeing more action soon. Dismissed. Oh, and for the record, everything that has been said in here is deemed classified. You may not discuss it with anyone who is not currently in this room."

With that, he left, leaving almost three dozen tired and confused pilots and crew behind.

Somehow, you make it back to your barracks, and fall asleep the moment your head touches the pillow, still in your flight suit.
>MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
>>
>>28012139
Cool. Will we get to purchase/choose our plane like in the AC games?
>>
>>28012187
more importantly, how much for Nosferatu? 8D
>>
>>28012243
And does it come with an yandere super-witch?
>>
And with that, I'm done for today.
My first quest thread is a success, I do believe.

Ace Combat Quest will return on Thursday at 4:00pm EST.

As of now, I am open to questions, comments and concerns that you, the reader may have.

>>28012187
I'm probably not going to do a purchase/choose aircraft system, unless it's a popular request.
>>
>>28012283
Will we at least get better craft?
>>
>>28012283
>I'm probably not going to do a purchase/choose aircraft system, unless it's a popular request.

Fair enough, it adds more realism that way.

Still, we're going to need to ditch the F-5 as soon as possible.
>>
>>28012277
lolwut
>>
>>28012283
if you're planning on continuing this quest for a while, you may want to think about getting a twitter for it to announce session times and delays and such, very handy tool to have

so far I'm liking what I see
>>
>>28012324
Strikers 89.
>>
>>28012296
>>28012305

For sure we're going to get better equipment. Probably pretty soon even.

There's actually a reason why I chose the F-5 for this mission, at least besides the fact that it's one of my favorites.

>>28012331
I was planning on it. I just wanted to see what the reception was first.
In all honesty, I was anticipating like one or two people participating. So I am pleasantly surprised
>>
>>28012374
It's Ace Combat, everyone loves Ace Combat. Good first run Cane, looking forward to Thursday.
>>
>>28012417
Thanks. I figured I'd give it a shot, since I didn't see anything in the archives
>>
>>28012335
shoulda guessed
that being said, NOPE
>>28012374
because AC5?
>>
>>28012574
Actually, no.
I was thinking that since the T-38 trainer and the F-5 are (presumably) laid out in the same manner in terms of controls and whatnot, that the F-5 would make a great transition between the T-38 and the other aircraft available.


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