"That's not our aircraft..." The voice of the on-duty dispatcher carried a hint of tension as his gaze remained fixed on the blinking dot on the radar screen.
"No identification signal, sir," he added, his tone tinged with a bit of doubt.
The commander set down his water cup and walked over to the dispatcher's side, his gaze also focused on the blinking dot.
"How long has it been since we've seen enemy aircraft?" he murmured, as if recalling something.
"Yeah, ever since we started our duty here, we haven't seen an Allied Forces fighter jet daring enough," the dispatcher responded, quickly operating on the console to try and obtain more information about this unidentified flying object.
"Why is there only one aircraft?" the commander pointed at the blinking dot on the screen, asking in confusion, "Where's the wingman? Typically, they fly in formation, and it's rare for there to be solo flights."
"Not sure, sir," the dispatcher shook his head. "The radar only captured one reflection signal, and there's no sign of other suspicious targets." He paused and continued, "Moreover, this reflection signal is quite strange..."
"Strange?" The commander furrowed his brows. "How strange?"
"The reflection model resembles the F-86 Peidao Fighter, but with subtle differences," the dispatcher explained. "I compared it with all aircraft models in the database, but couldn't find an exact match."
"Could it be their new fighter jet?" the commander speculated. "Perhaps they've developed a new model and intentionally hidden the identification signal."
"It's certainly possible, sir. But..." the dispatcher nodded. "It's also possible that it is just a Peidao Fighter; who knows what modifications they've made, maybe... the hatch fell off?"
He hesitated, "Or it could be that they've added auxiliary fuel tanks or something. Who knows?"
The commander pondered for a moment and ordered, "Continue to monitor it and keep a close eye on its movements. Altitude 7000, speed..."
"Speed 790, heading northwest at 70 degrees," the dispatcher quickly added.
"Send the nearby Yinglong Fighter squad over to check the situation," the commander instructed, his tone carrying a hint of caution. "Handle it carefully, and try not to act recklessly."
"Yes, sir," the dispatcher immediately responded, picking up the phone to contact the nearby Yinglong Fighter squad.
"This is Flashpoint 2, Flashpoint 2..." the dispatcher called, "Clearer squad, Clearer squad, please respond."
After a brief silence, a clear response came through the headphones, "Clearer squad received, Flashpoint 2, please instruct."
"Coordinates 41-59, heading northwest at 70 degrees, speed Mach 3, altitude 4500..." the dispatcher explained the details of the suspicious target, "a suspicious target, please proceed immediately to confirm and check."
"Cleaner 1 understood!" The pilot's voice was full of confidence, "Proceeding to verify target situation now."
"Cleaner 2 understood!" Another pilot also responded.
"Should we engage?" Cleaner 1 inquired.
The commander took the phone and, after pondering for a moment, said, "There's only one target, and it hasn't shown any hostility; no need to engage for now."
He paused and continued, "I've heard they're negotiating peace with us, so try to avoid conflict. Go check the situation first. If it doesn't seem like they want to attack, just scare them away."
"Judging by the reflection signal characteristics, it should be an F-86 Peidao Fighter and poses no real threat," the commander added. "Our Yinglong Fighters are more than capable of handling any situation."
"Cleaner 1 understood!" In the somewhat cramped cockpit of the Yinglong Fighter, the pilot answered while adjusting his flight direction.
"Cleaner 2 understood!" Another aircraft responded and similarly began banking, following its leader aircraft and pointing its nose in the enemy's direction.
...
"Try to keep the nose pointed at the enemy..." Recalling the instructions for using the new weapon, Dorne, piloting the Peidao Fighter, muttered incessantly. He was extremely nervous, as, truthfully, he wasn't quite confident in this sortie.
Or rather, he had no confidence at all. He just wanted to prove himself, prove his courage.
"Power up the weapons, let the missile's guidance head start working... get as close to the opponent as possible, then press the launch button." As he mumbled to this point, he glanced down at a launch device installed on the side of the aircraft.
That thing was obviously installed temporarily, and it didn't quite fit with the instruments and decor inside the whole aircraft. It featured some indicator lights, each representing different meanings.
Red light indicates the missile's internal device is not fully charged, green signifies the missile has finished charging and is ready to launch... In any case, this thing looked extremely sophisticated, so sophisticated that one felt a bit hesitant to touch it.
In the turbulent aircraft cockpit, the headphones echoed with interference from electrical sounds, and Dorne felt incredibly isolated.
How great it would be if there were many comrades by his side right now, just like during past training, when everyone deployed dozens of aircraft at once, and the momentum was simply invincible.
But unfortunately now... he was flying solo towards a distant target. Having lost ground guidance, he wasn't even sure if he could see the intended target.
Furthermore, he didn't know that in the distant unknown, some were cautiously facing advanced "equipment" they had never encountered before, just like him.