Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince

Four days later, on the other side of the Anatolia Empire lies the largest city in the peninsula of Crimea, Sevastopol. It served as the main headquarters for the Black Sea Fleet of the Imperial Ruthenian whose area of responsibility is the Black Sea.

At the building headquarters, two men can be seen walking in the hallway. They donned flight suits and were acknowledging every military personnel that passed by them with a salute.

They are the Rasul and Medet. They have been working together for about eight years since they joined the Navy. They have participated in a lot of operations, one of which is supporting the evacuation of the Grand Duchess of the Ruthenia Empire who was trapped in the Yamato Empire. Now, they were called once more as they have received a call from the higher-ups.

The two entered the briefing room alongside other fighter aircraft pilots.

“Good morning, everyone, and thank you for gathering in time. We have no time for an introduction as we have to get through this quickly. At zero hundred hours in St. Petersburg time, the Foreign Intelligence Services received intel about a separatist group in Anatolia Empire who plans to conduct a protest in front of the Topkapi Palace on the day when the Grand Duchess of the Ruthenia Empire and Chief of Staff to the Emperor, is going to visit in a diplomacy meeting. Now, according to the intel, the separatist group was not only going to protest, they are going to conduct violence in the area that would potentially harm the Grand Duchess. Our mission is to prevent that from happening,” Rasul finished his words and allowed his partner to continue.

“Look at the folders that were given to you,” said Medet, and the pilots promptly opened it and perused the contents. “Inside that file is additional information about the separatist group. They are mostly Arabs who were unhappy with the Anatolian government, which they felt was repressive, corrupt, and not representative of their interests. So they decided to take matters into their own hands by expressing their disdain towards the government by conducting violence in the Topkapi Palace. As Major Rasul said, a threat to the safety of the Grand Duchess. Inside those files as well as the satellite footage taken by the FIS. There you can see the separatist group gathered at the foot of the Ararat Mountain. Which is a thousand and five hundred kilometers away from Istanbul. The FIS picked up radio chatter and learned that they are going to leave at midnight for Istanbul,” Medet finished his part and Rasul continued.

“Our mission is to not let them leave the Ararat mountain and exterminate them on site. We will approach them through Georgia and Armenia. It’s going to be a long flight, so the aerial refueling aircraft Gagana is going to fill us with enough fuel to get in, destroy the target, and return back to an air force installation base at Vaziani Military Base in Georgia. Any questions about the operation?”

The pilots shook their heads, indicating there was none.

“Okay, gear up boys,” Rasul said.

***

Fifteen minutes later. In the airfield, ten Wraith fighter aircraft are preparing for take off.

“Then it’s going to be easy,” Medet sighed. “Oh those poor souls, they won’t know what hit them.”

“No one had ever expected us to come,” Rasul said. “So it’s always a surprise to the enemy.”

“I know right. We are dealing with separatists here armed with small arms. I don’t think they have a fighting chance.”

“Well the FIS has given us a lot of intel about those guys, but those are partial. We don’t know if they have anti-aircraft guns set up around their bases.”

“Why would the separatist have anti-aircraft guns?” Medet asked.

“I’m just assuming,” Rasul said. “We are taking off now so shut up.”

“Right.”

Major Rasul, the Squadron Leader, now led the formation of eight Wraith Fighter Aircraft as they took off from the airbase, their engines roaring as they climbed higher into the sky. The Squadron was tasked with taking out the separatist’s hideout, located at Mount Ararat.

The Squadron flew in tight formation over the rolling hills and rugged terrain of the Caucasus mountains. The sun was now just a faint glow on the horizon, and the first stars of the night began to twinkle in the sky. The Wraiths’ onboard systems came to life, illuminating the cockpit with a soft green glow. The pilots checked and rechecked their systems, ensuring that everything was in working order.

Thirty minutes later, they linked up with a refueling aircraft, Gagana, and filled the Squadron with fuel. After that, they parted ways.

One hour later, as they approached the target area, Major Rasul’s voice crackled over the radio. “Alright, men. This is it. Stay sharp and stick to the plan.” The other pilots acknowledged his words with a series of curt responses, their focus now solely on the mission ahead.

“I have eyes on the target,” one of the aircraft informed the Squadron.

“Everyone’s weapon free, I say again, weapon’s free,” Rasul announced.

The Wraiths began their bombing run, their bombsights locked onto the target. As the Wraiths approached the target, their bombs started falling away from their undersides and arcing toward the mountain.

The explosions echoed through the mountains, sending shockwaves through the air. The separatist’s hideout was hit hard, and a huge plume of smoke and debris rose into the sky. Major Rasul and his Squadron had completed their mission, and the hideout was now a smoldering ruin.

But the mission was far from over. The separatist who had survived the initial bombing and was now on the move, attempting to regroup and counterattack. Major Rasul and his Squadron would need to maintain their vigilance if they hoped to eliminate the threat once and for all.

The Wraiths swept low over the mountain, their radar systems picking up the movements of the separatist forces below. The pilots switched to their air-to-ground missiles and prepared to engage the enemy. The Wraiths swooped down, their engines roaring as they closed in on the enemy. The separatist’s anti-aircraft guns began to light up the sky with tracer fire, but the Wraiths were too fast and too nimble for them to hit.

“What the fuck! They have anti-aircraft guns!” Medet exclaimed.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect that,” Rasul said and continued. “But that anti-aircraft gun is a threat to the squadron, so let’s destroy it.”

Rasul circled back his Wraith and engaged the anti-aircraft installations, their missiles streaking towards it with a bright orange light and smoke trailing behind it.

Seconds later, there was another explosion, this time, hitting the anti-aircraft gun. Rasul could have used the rotary cannon but he thought it would be a waste of taxpayers’ money if they didn’t use the missiles.

The screams of the Wraiths Squadrons overhead sent shivers down the separatist forces’ spine. The survivors can only run and hide from the reaper of the sky. Almost all of their forces were neutralized in the bombing run.

Ten minutes later, the Wraith Fighter aircraft disappeared into the sky, their engines a distant rumble as they flew away from the target location. The survivors were traumatized after witnessing the deadly capabilities of an aircraft that bombed them. But they were sure it was not from the government but foreign. After all, the Anatolia Empire doesn’t have such planes in its inventory.

They could only think of a name. Ruthenia Empire.