The obituary of the dogfight has been written by wiser men than I dozens of times over.
And so we re-learn the lessons of the dogfight many times over, and realise to our amazement that, a century after the death of the man himself and ten AU from the Western Front, the Dicta Boelcke still holds true.
We train to dogfight every spacecraft we fly, whether it would normally be expected or not. If it carries a cannon and can fit a defensive missile, we train. Because sometimes you have no other option but to fight – no matter how ‘disadvantaged’ you are on paper. Because when to ships are in knife-fighting range pilot skill still makes the difference.
That said.
No sane pilot ever wants to get himself into a dogfight.
A true Ace, the truly gifted pilot, sneaks up on his prey and blasts them from the sky before they even know they are under attack. Their first warning of your attack should be the scream of their RWR as the missile you shot at them from an AU away finally goes Pitbull, followed by the sudden experience of drifting in their underwear through open vacuum.
If you know where the enemy is, and he has no idea you are there – you get to make the first move. Try make it the last.
If you spot the enemy after he’s spotted you, and you are aware of him, you can counter his move. You can then start creating problems for him to solve, make him work for the kill – and either stay alive long enough to get help from a friend, or to turn the table.
If you see nothing. You die.
It doesn’t matter what you fly, that simple equation means that the Pilot with better situation awareness will always last longer than the one who doesn’t.
75% of pilots die without ever knowing they were under attack.
90% of guys and girls die without ever getting the chance to fire back.
But sometimes, either through a combination of pooch-screwing and bad luck, you find yourself in the unenviable position of having to fight it out. Either you’ve misjudged your prey’s energy state and been forced into a fight you can’t disengage from, or you’ve been caught by surprise through some combination of technology, deception or just plain them being sneakier than you managed to be
Now, you’re into a proper dogfight.
We are the worst dogfighter in the Roughriders inventory. Even the F6D’s can out-energy and outmanoeuvre us and those things are slow, patrolling, missile-boats that plink their targets from an AU out and then RTB. We have the longest turn time, the lowest G-limit and the worst acceleration below .8C among things that can exceed that speed.
It’s also what makes the Bitch an utter Bitch to dogfight with. While we can start with a massive energy advantage from our sheer speed – it’s quickly eroded away, and once we get slowed down, isn’t very quick in coming back either.
If we ever have to knife-fight with an enemy fighter, someone, somewhere has drastically fucked up.
But we still train to do it. Because it will eventually happen. And when it does, the bad guys won’t accept ‘We didn’t train for this’ as an excuse.
I can tell you how this actually went.
It didn’t happen to us. It happened to the prototype, and an unfinished Attack variant, that had just been fitted with cannon and a reflector gunsight – and a basic radio set.
They’re on a transit flight, in a two ship formation with the original Prototype, Riding Hi-Streamer as the lead and the unfinished Rebecca Brown flying alongside, being escorted. They’re going by Foxhound Alpha, and Bravo
They enemy had previously been informed of the flightplan through a leak, so was able to make a close intercept without using active sensors. The enemy also had access to classified data on Hi-Streamer’s sensor and IDAR array through the same leak, and so had been able to mask their approach right up until the final moments.
As they cruised, fat dumb and happy on a simple milk-run., they were in the process of being surrounded by an enemy that couldn’t be detected by conventional sensors. And that enemy was moving into attack position. The situation is quickly assessed as five against two.
Or a pucker-factor of a full eleven.
Both ships are travelling at a slow cruise speed to conserve fuel – and so will struggle to out accelerate their opponents, and will definitely fail to out accelerate the first shot from the ones taking position ahead of them, or behind.
They are now Aware they are in a very bad situation. But now they can do something about it.
The enemy is missing a small part of the picture – but an important part. All they see is their prey, sitting fat dumb and happy. The lead ship, Alpha, is able to slave two missiles to its IDAR array through Central Despatch, then drop them from the rails.
The missiles invert, fly dead astern to where they’ve been told to expect the enemy lurking, and go mad-dog looking for anything to kill.
The two ships going dead astern die in a fireball.
The two biggest threats have been eliminated. The odds are now 3 to 2.
Both Foxhounds now try to disengage by throttling up. This builds energy, but also gives a chance of avoiding the fight entirely – always the better option. The enemy takes a shot at each, forcing them to maneuver, costing them energy and snarling them up
The enemy focuses on the Alpha, attempting to disable it or eliminate it as support – it’s the only ship with working sensors and comms so without it, they’re blind. The ISO aboard Alpha is able to defeat three fired missiles. Two are defeated by conventional countermeasures. A sixth and final, is defeated kinetically, leaving the lead low on energy, but still moving.
The enemy blew their missiles, hoping for a quick win and the quick kill bonus.
All five ships, some of the most advanced ever built, are down to throwing high speed lumps of metal at each other. This is sticks and stones stuff, the stuff of our grandfathers in Mustangs and Messerchmidts, or Sopwiths and Fokkers.
The Foxhound flight moves to an abeam formation, with Alpha providing radio updates to the Bravo.
Both pilots coordinate their efforts to set up a mutual defense. By running abeam and coordinating their manoeuvring into a crossing weave they are able to clear each other’s tail, spoiling an enemy’s shot, by forcing them to risk taking a hit in turn.
The enemy is able to out-turn, out energy and out manoeuvre them both, but just by mutual coordination they are able to defend themselves with their own cannon.
An enemy fighter closes in for a gun-kill, Pilot spotting an opportunity as the lighter Bravo gets out of step with Alpha. Alpha’s pilot makes another hard break, spending the last of their energy to stay alive for a few more seconds. It passes in front of Bravo trailing an enemy fighter going full fangs-out for the kill.
The pilot of Bravo, using only a reflector sight, lines up the shot and fires. The 30mm cannon dumps the majority of its ammo in a two second burst. The third bandit gets his fangs stuck in the deck – flying through the stream of cannon shells, gaining some terminal cockpit ventilation for his trouble.
The ghost of John S. Thach is probably amused to see his old tactic still effective.
It’s now two against two.
But taking the kill-shot has moved the second out of position, and left lead dangerously low on energy. One of the two remaining fighters moves in for the shot, approaching from beneath the cold six.
A snap-roll evades the worst of the fire, but still Alpha is damaged. One engine is smoking and losing oil pressure, they have hydraulic damage, cooling system damage and are leaking fuel from a hole in the left wing-tank It won’t be long before the damage becomes disabling.
Both Alpha and Bravo try again to disengage, Alpha’s damaged engine reduces her speed. They gain energy, but not separation.
Again, they revert to a beam defence, covering each other from both remaining enemy fighters. It’s a losing match. Both of them will run out of energy before the enemy, but the longer you stay alive, the more time you buy, either for the enemy to make a mistake, or for help to come.
Bravo’s pilot knows she’s low on ammunition, so passes up on some good shooting opportunities for better ones.
The enemy realise she’s not shooting, and start pushing their attacks harder on the damaged Alpha, scoring more hits.
The ship’s now crippled, leaving a trail of vapour through space. The damaged engine finally fails, leaving them to fly with one motor. Most of Alpha’s sensors go dark without power. Another hard break leaves them slow and floundering in the sky – but buys another few seconds of life.
Spend the energy you need to spend, to stay alive. There’s no use keeping your energy, just to take it to the grave. A few more seconds of life is worth all you’ve got.
A snapshot from Alpha’s guns takes chunks from an enemy’s fighter that got cocky and misread the roll, passing through the gunsight.
Bravo goes Winchester trying to finish the enemy off.
Alpha’s reduced to being able to make left turns, and just about fly straight and level with the stick hard over. The left engine’s welded itself together, the right is busy overheating from being held at full throttle for so long.
They’re basically dead. Out of ammunition. Almost out of time.
The cavalry arrive in the form of a full squadron of Woodsman drones, backed by the Simurgh. Both remaining enemy fighters promptly Go Away in quite spectacular fashion.
The Rebecca Brown survived the fight without damage.
The Riding Hi-Streamer made it to base under its own power, before suffering a gear collapse on landing which broke the damaged wing off. It was written off as irreparable.
These were two pilots with no previous combat experience and minimal training. The mercenaries who attacked them, were, on the other hand, were experienced fighters, but no real team training.
Individually paid by the kill – they were a squadron of lone wolves rather than a pack of hunters. They did not work well as a team, especially when the top dogs who’d gotten themselves into position for a killshot got themselves killed in return.
Both pilots survived, because they employed basic level teamwork and tactcs Just by employing basic fighter tactics and working together, they defended themselves against a superior force and stayed alive long enough for help to come.
So, when I get asked about why we even bother to do dogfight training in the one ‘fighter’ that should never, ever be taken into a dogfight – I point at the one time it happened, where the most basic level of pilot skill and ability to dogfight made all the difference.
And so we re-learn the lessons of the dogfight many times over, and realise to our amazement that, a century after the death of the man himself and ten AU from the Western Front, the Dicta Boelcke still holds true.
We train to dogfight every spacecraft we fly, whether it would normally be expected or not. If it carries a cannon and can fit a defensive missile, we train. Because sometimes you have no other option but to fight – no matter how ‘disadvantaged’ you are on paper. Because when to ships are in knife-fighting range pilot skill still makes the difference.
That said.
No sane pilot ever wants to get himself into a dogfight.
A true Ace, the truly gifted pilot, sneaks up on his prey and blasts them from the sky before they even know they are under attack. Their first warning of your attack should be the scream of their RWR as the missile you shot at them from an AU away finally goes Pitbull, followed by the sudden experience of drifting in their underwear through open vacuum.
If you know where the enemy is, and he has no idea you are there – you get to make the first move. Try make it the last.
If you spot the enemy after he’s spotted you, and you are aware of him, you can counter his move. You can then start creating problems for him to solve, make him work for the kill – and either stay alive long enough to get help from a friend, or to turn the table.
If you see nothing. You die.
It doesn’t matter what you fly, that simple equation means that the Pilot with better situation awareness will always last longer than the one who doesn’t.
75% of pilots die without ever knowing they were under attack.
90% of guys and girls die without ever getting the chance to fire back.
But sometimes, either through a combination of pooch-screwing and bad luck, you find yourself in the unenviable position of having to fight it out. Either you’ve misjudged your prey’s energy state and been forced into a fight you can’t disengage from, or you’ve been caught by surprise through some combination of technology, deception or just plain them being sneakier than you managed to be
Now, you’re into a proper dogfight.
We are the worst dogfighter in the Roughriders inventory. Even the F6D’s can out-energy and outmanoeuvre us and those things are slow, patrolling, missile-boats that plink their targets from an AU out and then RTB. We have the longest turn time, the lowest G-limit and the worst acceleration below .8C among things that can exceed that speed.
It’s also what makes the Bitch an utter Bitch to dogfight with. While we can start with a massive energy advantage from our sheer speed – it’s quickly eroded away, and once we get slowed down, isn’t very quick in coming back either.
If we ever have to knife-fight with an enemy fighter, someone, somewhere has drastically fucked up.
But we still train to do it. Because it will eventually happen. And when it does, the bad guys won’t accept ‘We didn’t train for this’ as an excuse.
I can tell you how this actually went.
It didn’t happen to us. It happened to the prototype, and an unfinished Attack variant, that had just been fitted with cannon and a reflector gunsight – and a basic radio set.
They’re on a transit flight, in a two ship formation with the original Prototype, Riding Hi-Streamer as the lead and the unfinished Rebecca Brown flying alongside, being escorted. They’re going by Foxhound Alpha, and Bravo
They enemy had previously been informed of the flightplan through a leak, so was able to make a close intercept without using active sensors. The enemy also had access to classified data on Hi-Streamer’s sensor and IDAR array through the same leak, and so had been able to mask their approach right up until the final moments.
As they cruised, fat dumb and happy on a simple milk-run., they were in the process of being surrounded by an enemy that couldn’t be detected by conventional sensors. And that enemy was moving into attack position. The situation is quickly assessed as five against two.
Or a pucker-factor of a full eleven.
Both ships are travelling at a slow cruise speed to conserve fuel – and so will struggle to out accelerate their opponents, and will definitely fail to out accelerate the first shot from the ones taking position ahead of them, or behind.
They are now Aware they are in a very bad situation. But now they can do something about it.
The enemy is missing a small part of the picture – but an important part. All they see is their prey, sitting fat dumb and happy. The lead ship, Alpha, is able to slave two missiles to its IDAR array through Central Despatch, then drop them from the rails.
The missiles invert, fly dead astern to where they’ve been told to expect the enemy lurking, and go mad-dog looking for anything to kill.
The two ships going dead astern die in a fireball.
The two biggest threats have been eliminated. The odds are now 3 to 2.
Both Foxhounds now try to disengage by throttling up. This builds energy, but also gives a chance of avoiding the fight entirely – always the better option. The enemy takes a shot at each, forcing them to maneuver, costing them energy and snarling them up
The enemy focuses on the Alpha, attempting to disable it or eliminate it as support – it’s the only ship with working sensors and comms so without it, they’re blind. The ISO aboard Alpha is able to defeat three fired missiles. Two are defeated by conventional countermeasures. A sixth and final, is defeated kinetically, leaving the lead low on energy, but still moving.
The enemy blew their missiles, hoping for a quick win and the quick kill bonus.
All five ships, some of the most advanced ever built, are down to throwing high speed lumps of metal at each other. This is sticks and stones stuff, the stuff of our grandfathers in Mustangs and Messerchmidts, or Sopwiths and Fokkers.
The Foxhound flight moves to an abeam formation, with Alpha providing radio updates to the Bravo.
Both pilots coordinate their efforts to set up a mutual defense. By running abeam and coordinating their manoeuvring into a crossing weave they are able to clear each other’s tail, spoiling an enemy’s shot, by forcing them to risk taking a hit in turn.
The enemy is able to out-turn, out energy and out manoeuvre them both, but just by mutual coordination they are able to defend themselves with their own cannon.
An enemy fighter closes in for a gun-kill, Pilot spotting an opportunity as the lighter Bravo gets out of step with Alpha. Alpha’s pilot makes another hard break, spending the last of their energy to stay alive for a few more seconds. It passes in front of Bravo trailing an enemy fighter going full fangs-out for the kill.
The pilot of Bravo, using only a reflector sight, lines up the shot and fires. The 30mm cannon dumps the majority of its ammo in a two second burst. The third bandit gets his fangs stuck in the deck – flying through the stream of cannon shells, gaining some terminal cockpit ventilation for his trouble.
The ghost of John S. Thach is probably amused to see his old tactic still effective.
It’s now two against two.
But taking the kill-shot has moved the second out of position, and left lead dangerously low on energy. One of the two remaining fighters moves in for the shot, approaching from beneath the cold six.
A snap-roll evades the worst of the fire, but still Alpha is damaged. One engine is smoking and losing oil pressure, they have hydraulic damage, cooling system damage and are leaking fuel from a hole in the left wing-tank It won’t be long before the damage becomes disabling.
Both Alpha and Bravo try again to disengage, Alpha’s damaged engine reduces her speed. They gain energy, but not separation.
Again, they revert to a beam defence, covering each other from both remaining enemy fighters. It’s a losing match. Both of them will run out of energy before the enemy, but the longer you stay alive, the more time you buy, either for the enemy to make a mistake, or for help to come.
Bravo’s pilot knows she’s low on ammunition, so passes up on some good shooting opportunities for better ones.
The enemy realise she’s not shooting, and start pushing their attacks harder on the damaged Alpha, scoring more hits.
The ship’s now crippled, leaving a trail of vapour through space. The damaged engine finally fails, leaving them to fly with one motor. Most of Alpha’s sensors go dark without power. Another hard break leaves them slow and floundering in the sky – but buys another few seconds of life.
Spend the energy you need to spend, to stay alive. There’s no use keeping your energy, just to take it to the grave. A few more seconds of life is worth all you’ve got.
A snapshot from Alpha’s guns takes chunks from an enemy’s fighter that got cocky and misread the roll, passing through the gunsight.
Bravo goes Winchester trying to finish the enemy off.
Alpha’s reduced to being able to make left turns, and just about fly straight and level with the stick hard over. The left engine’s welded itself together, the right is busy overheating from being held at full throttle for so long.
They’re basically dead. Out of ammunition. Almost out of time.
The cavalry arrive in the form of a full squadron of Woodsman drones, backed by the Simurgh. Both remaining enemy fighters promptly Go Away in quite spectacular fashion.
The Rebecca Brown survived the fight without damage.
The Riding Hi-Streamer made it to base under its own power, before suffering a gear collapse on landing which broke the damaged wing off. It was written off as irreparable.
These were two pilots with no previous combat experience and minimal training. The mercenaries who attacked them, were, on the other hand, were experienced fighters, but no real team training.
Individually paid by the kill – they were a squadron of lone wolves rather than a pack of hunters. They did not work well as a team, especially when the top dogs who’d gotten themselves into position for a killshot got themselves killed in return.
Both pilots survived, because they employed basic level teamwork and tactcs Just by employing basic fighter tactics and working together, they defended themselves against a superior force and stayed alive long enough for help to come.
So, when I get asked about why we even bother to do dogfight training in the one ‘fighter’ that should never, ever be taken into a dogfight – I point at the one time it happened, where the most basic level of pilot skill and ability to dogfight made all the difference.
I love the smell of rotaries in the morning. You know one time, I got to work early, before the rush hour. I walked through the empty carpark, I didn't see one bloody Prius or Golf. And that smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole carpark, smelled like.... ....speed.
One day they're going to ban them.