Come On

Zhang Peng shivered and his eyes snapped open. His fragmented memories began to function again, and he quickly prepared to maneuver the aircraft to evade the attack. However, when he focused his gaze, he realized the aircraft's flight attitude had changed, and the three unidentified aircraft from before had vanished.

As a seasoned pilot, he immediately understood that he had been knocked out by the extreme G-forces and had been useless throughout the engagement.

Noticing movement from the front seat, Liu Jun spoke in a monotone voice over the internal communication, "Master, you're awake? The battle is over."

"Were the enemy aircraft shot down?" Zhang Peng checked the aircraft's status and asked in a deep voice.

"Yes," Liu Jun replied calmly. As for how they were shot down, he didn't intend to take all the credit; without his wingman's cover, it would have been impossible to fight so easily.

The electromagnetic interference also disappeared after the three enemy aircraft were shot down, and communications were restored to normal, with external communications now accessible.

A J-15S approached the rear of the [139]'s port side, visually inspecting the aircraft for external damage. After confirming there were no obvious scratches, he breathed a sigh of relief. However, even if the exterior was fine, the internal systems might still have faults, so he asked over the comm channel, "Fatty, status?"

"Out of fuel."

Hearing Zhang Peng's words, the pilots of both J-15S aircraft felt a jolt of anxiety. The navy's greatest fear was running out of fuel. Without fuel, they couldn't even land on the carrier for a go-around, let alone fly back such a long distance.

The wingman looked down at the vast ocean below and the 815A not far away.

The bad news was they were out of fuel.

The good news was they could be recovered if they bailed out.

At this very moment, a communication with higher authority, relayed through the WZ7, was accessed into the [139]'s system.

"[1 (Yao) 39 (Gou) aircraft, this is Command. Report your fuel status."

"Reporting, Commander, we have 10 minutes of fuel left, repeat! 10 minutes of fuel left!"

The commander frowned upon hearing that the [139] aircraft had only ten minutes of fuel. He wasn't worried about the pilots bailing out.

After disengaging from combat, the pilots could bail out while the aircraft was in a stable flight attitude, and friendly warships were nearby to recover them immediately. However, this J-15S recorded the engagement data with the enemy, and this data had to be collected after the aircraft landed.

For such unknown enemies, especially those they might encounter again in the future, more intelligence was needed to understand them. While the aircraft still had fuel, they had to make the greatest effort.

"Where is the nearest tanker?" the commander asked an officer beside him.

This was not something he needed to worry about. After the four J-15S aircraft were dispatched, the Liaoning had already considered the fuel situation. J-15s equipped with refueling pods were subsequently launched, ready to refuel any aircraft that ran low on fuel.

On the battlefield situation map, one of the refueling J-15s was refueling the damaged [140] aircraft, while the other was heading straight for the battlefield.

"Reporting, Commander, the J-15 with the refueling pod is still 15 minutes away from them!"

"[139] aircraft, the tanker is on its way. You must hold on for 15 minutes."

"[139] aircraft received."

Sustaining 10 minutes of fuel for 15 minutes was not impossible. Zhang Peng glanced at the instrument panel, noting the altitude: 7000.

Not too high, but enough. He reduced throttle and adjusted the nose-up angle.

A heavy aircraft wouldn't immediately fall after losing power. As long as it still had speed and altitude, it could be treated as a "glider" with less-than-optimal performance.

He pulled back the throttle, and the exhaust gas from the engine decreased. The airspeed on the instrument panel slowly dropped. Once it stabilized at a certain value, the aircraft's altitude also began to decrease. He traded altitude for speed, maintaining a steady, straight flight path to increase the aircraft's loiter time while waiting for the tanker.

Seeing that the aircraft's attitude was stable, Liu Jun stopped worrying about the aircraft's condition. Zhang Peng, as a veteran pilot, could handle the problem. His consciousness turned to the [Flight Experience] in his mind.

He was shocked when he looked at it; his experience had increased significantly, almost catching up to two years of flying experience!

At this moment, Liu Jun felt an urge to max out all his flight skills. However, the experience he had gained could only upgrade a level-one skill to level two, or raise a level-two skill by 0.5.

Which one to upgrade? After hesitating, Liu Jun suppressed the urge to upgrade and decided to wait.

His gaze swept across the distant sea surface. Several columns of black smoke were very conspicuous against the blue sky and white clouds. It seemed the Carl Vinson Carrier Strike Group had suffered considerable losses this time, and the entire world would be shaken by it. However, these were not his concerns; the "tall guys" would handle them.

The fifteen minutes passed quickly. A target appeared on the radar, rapidly approaching. The IFF identified it as friendly.

Once within visual range, Liu Jun clearly saw the other aircraft – another J-15. After approaching them, it circled overhead once, observing the [139]'s speed, altitude, and heading. Then, it flew ahead, opened its speed brakes, and slowly cut into their flight path. The pod mounted under its belly extended a hose.

Unlike the normal procedure where the receiving aircraft approached the tanker, this time the tanker approached the receiving aircraft. The [139]'s fuel could not afford any more maneuvering.

Zhang Peng focused on the position of the hose ahead and glanced at the aircraft's fuel gauge. It was less than 3 minutes, and the alarm had not stopped sounding.

When the hose was still about ten meters away from the aircraft, the J-15 responsible for refueling maintained a stable flight attitude. At this distance, it was practically nose-to-nose for fighter jets.

Zhang Peng gripped the control stick, slightly adjusted the throttle, extended the refueling probe on the left side of the cockpit, and slowly maneuvered the aircraft towards the hose.

Ten meters!

Five meters!

Three meters!

One meter!

With a click, the refueling probe accurately connected with the hose, and high-quality aviation fuel began to flow into the J-15S. As he watched the fuel level slowly rise, Zhang Peng breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his student looking calmly in the direction of the black smoke plumes, as if nothing had happened.

What excellent composure!

With the fuel issue resolved, Zhang Peng relaxed and asked jokingly, "Kid, weren't you afraid we'd fall?"

This was where the advantage of a two-seater aircraft showed. The pilots could chat with each other to relieve the pressure, especially after just participating in a live combat mission.

"Master, if we ran out of fuel, we would have had to bail out," Liu Jun said calmly. They had done everything they could. If the aircraft still fell, they would have to abandon it and bail out. However, before bailing out, he would have to aim the aircraft near the 815A for easier recovery.

"By the way, have you thought of your callsign yet?"

Zhang Peng brought up a more serious matter. Liu Jun didn't have a callsign yet, but after this combat mission, he had participated in real combat, which was a rare and valuable experience. At the same time, he and his student had now experienced a life-or-death test as comrades. He was very satisfied with his student's performance, both his mental and physical fortitude were solid.