Two days later, at a Valorian airfield, preparations were underway for the first phase of the military mission in Zambesi. Five long-range bombers, known as the VAF-94 "Thunderhawk," were lined up on the tarmac.
The Thunderhawk has a length of 99 feet and a wingspan of 141 feet. It was equipped with four V-Turbo engines, each producing 2,400 horsepower, allowing the bomber to reach speeds of up to 350 miles per hour. It had a range of 3,250 miles, making it suitable for long-distance missions.
Each Thunderhawk could carry up to 20,000 pounds of bombs, including 500-pound general-purpose bombs, 1,000-pound armor-piercing bombs, and incendiary devices. The ground crews were busy loading the bombs into the aircraft, making sure everything was secure.
The bombers were also armed with defensive weapons to protect against enemy fighters. They had twin 20mm cannons mounted in different positions on the aircraft, providing coverage in all directions. The gunners were already checking their weapons, preparing for the mission.
Colonel Jackson Hughes, the commanding officer, was briefing the crews. "We'll be heading towards Kandara and Moba. Our primary objective is to hit key supply depots, communication hubs, and troop concentrations. Intelligence indicates that these targets are crucial to the Matalebe's operational capabilities.
We're going in heavy, so make sure your birds are ready to drop every ounce of ordnance they're carrying."
He pointed to the map displayed behind him, showing the route and target areas. "You'll be flying at an altitude of 25,000 feet to avoid most of their ground-based defenses, but don't get too comfortable. The Triesenberg forces have been supplying them with anti-aircraft guns, so stay sharp and keep those gunners on their toes.
We've got fighter escorts, but if anything gets through, I want those 20mm cannons ready to chew up anything that gets close."
This isn't just a routine bombing run, gentlemen. The success of this mission is critical to our overall strategy in Zambesi. If we can cripple their supply lines and knock out their infrastructure, we'll give our ground forces a fighting chance to push them back."
He looked each of the pilots in the eye. "Remember your training. Stick to the plan, stay in formation, and follow the lead aircraft. We need precision here—no wild heroics. Drop your payloads, get out, and bring those birds back home."
One of the pilots, Captain Reynolds, raised his hand. "Colonel, any intel on enemy air presence?"
Hughes nodded. "Expect light to moderate resistance. The Matalebe don't have much in the way of an air force, but Triesenberg might have slipped a few fighters into the area. We've got interceptors on standby, but keep your eyes peeled. If you see something, call it out and adjust accordingly."
One hour into the flight, the Thunderhawks were approaching the border of the Kingdom of Zambesi.
"All aircraft, this is Thunderhawk One," Captain Klein's voice crackled over the intercom. "We're five minutes out from the target area. Gunners, keep your eyes peeled. Bombardiers, get ready to drop on my command."
In the lead aircraft, the bombardier, Lieutenant Myers, was hunched over his targeting scope, making final adjustments as they neared Kandara.
"Altitude steady at 25,000 feet," the co-pilot reported. "No signs of enemy aircraft yet."
"Roger that," Klein replied, scanning the horizon. "Let's keep it that way."
As the Thunderhawks approached their designated targets, the air became tense. The crew members exchanged quick glances, their training taking over as they prepared for the critical moment.
"Thunderhawk Two to Thunderhawk One," came a voice over the intercom. "I've got visual on the target. We're in the drop zone."
"Copy that, Thunderhawk Two," Klein acknowledged. "All aircraft, commence bombing run on my mark."
The city of Kandara appeared below them, its buildings and infrastructure spread out like a grid. Through his scope, Lieutenant Myers could see the supply depots and communication hubs that were their primary targets.
"Steady...steady..." Klein's voice was calm, but firm. "Bombs away!"
With that, the bomb bay doors of the Thunderhawks opened, releasing their deadly payload. The aircraft lurched slightly as the bombs fell away, tumbling toward the city below. The crews watched as the bombs descended, seconds feeling like hours until they made contact.
A series of bright flashes erupted on the ground as the bombs exploded, followed by columns of smoke and fire rising into the sky.
"Direct hits, all targets," Lieutenant Myers reported, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
"Good work, everyone," Klein responded. "Let's head to Moba and finish the job."