✈ Ace Combat: Nationstates [.:~Open | P/MT~:.] ✈

[Empire of Donner land]

Broken Origin.
10th Fleet, D.L.V Origin, Command Bridge, Mediterranean Sea.

The Command Bridge of the Origin was bustling with activity after reviving orders to move into the Mediterranean and to the balkans to join the fight against the Mandate. They were still far away from the area of Operations which they were ordered too. The orders received by D.H.C or Donnish Head Command which was given to by the head of government Harolds Veraski and the head of state who had the council of 120 vote for. If there was a decision there was a Council vote and someone to bring it up in the first place.

The Captain of the D.L.V origins, Fleet Captain Charles Oren was recently promoted to his position 4 months ago during the U.D.S incident when the original Captain was killed by a Cruise Missile strike which had a direct hit on the bridge. Charles Oren was the only one avaliable to be sent for replacement and had to wait while the Carrier was undergoing repairs and refits. While heowas new he did know what he was doing. The crew as of now have respect for him. But respect doesent matter when cruise missiles can just hit you from miles away and end Oren's 4 month long promotion to captain.

Charles Oren was observing the Mediterranean that they were now in. Binoculars were useless as they could get the hit on them before the carrier could even turn on the missile defences. Instead of binoculars the Radar was scanning the seas around them for any air and sea contacts. As he was waiting for further orders as they got closer to the balkans. It seemed to be a regular 'Go there and wait a while before further orders' kind of thing like it was usually around the seas of Donner Land when the Origins was patrolling around before the U.D.S incident and before the Mandate started this war. This war was becoming boring quickly.

"We have 12 radar contacts! Mach 1.44, SU-24 Fencers Are inbound!" Oren turned around and quickly walked over to the person inbound still holding a cup of coffee in his hands. "Turn on air defences, tell the rest of fleet. Red alert!" He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and drank the rest before placing it down. "If those fencers have anti ship missiles we will get more then a scratch! ETA on their arrival?" He said while looking towards the direction of the enemy arrival. "Only a few minutes away sir." The man looked up from his screen briefly as he said it.

Below the deck Gregan was running through the hallways trying to get up to above the deck as the red lights were shining brightly in his eyes and the alarm noise blared in his ears. He began running up a set of stairs holding onto his flight helmet and in his G-Suit. As he got above deck he was met with a heavy wind and rain falling on him. The grey and dark sky above had the thundering noise of not lighting but jet engines. He knew that they only had a few minutes left to take off. Behind him as he ran across the wet ground were his 3 pilots that he was in command of, George was among them along with Fredericks and Jerin. The flight crew around their F-15 Eagles began to disperse as they neared closer to them. The aircraft were already hooked up to the catapult system, refueled and armed.

Gregan and his flight were climbing into their aircraft and switching the systems inside the cockpit as the thundering sound grew closer.

"Derango flight lead to all Derango flights, beginning take off." Gregan gave a thumbs up to the flight crew on the deck and the man outside the cockpit in the light rain raised his hand and as he was about to drop his hand crouched down. The F-15 was pushed away accelerating to take off speed as the jet engines roared. Gregan was pushed into his seats as the aircraft flew off the carrier and gained speed and altitude. Already he could see the Fencers coming in from his HUD marked by green squares. The text marking them as SU-24's and the distance in metric below that.

The 3 other aircraft in Derango flight had taken off and had formed up behind Gregan after they were launched from the catapult. "This is Origin to Derango flight. We're getting more aircraft up and prepared to help but it will take a while, hold tight" The voice from the carrier told them as they ascended through the clouds. Water began to form on the cockpit glass as they went through but as they got above the clouds it went away. "Copy Origin, we're waiting for your command to engage." Gregan said as the Su-24 Fencers got closer and closer to them about to make a fly by.

"Confirmed hostile forces, engage Derango flight."

Derango shook his head at how far these aircraft must have went to come and engage the carrier. "Derango flight split and engage! These are hostile!" Gregan ordered as the SU-24's screamed past them at the speed of sound. "This is Derango 1-2, I'm on his tail!" Gregan heard as he began turning his aircraft around chasing the SU-24's. He looked to his upper right as Derango 1-2, George, fired a missile at one of them. The missile streaked right into the fencer before it could turn and fire off flares. A bright explosion followed by black smokey streaks of what was left of a fencer. "Derango 1-2, he's down!"

"Nice shot number two! Wait up, ones on your tail!" Gregan tried to pull up before the fencer could fire on George. But as Gregan got into range a white trail flew from the fencer and a explosion and falling shrapnel signaled the end of Derango 1-2. "1-2 this is lead!" Gregan yelled into his radio as he fired a missile into the fencer that shot 1-2 ddown. "Fox 2!" The Fencers wing exploded and the pilot bailed out as the aircraft tumbled back to earth burning from where it's wing was.

"1-3 to Origin, Derango 1-2 has been shot down. He's not responding." Jerin said as the carriers AA fire began to target the now retreating fencers and more allied aircraft took off. "Origin to Derango flight, copy that. Come in for landing, they seem to be retreating. A rescue helicopter will be sent out." Gregan sighed and tore off his breath mask. He couldn't belive that a Derango has been shot down infront of his face. He could've saved him, he was too late how ever. Gregan atleast had the satisfaction of avenging his friend George that is if he was killed. Jerin or Fredericks never saw a chute open. The reality of it all settled in quickly.

"Derango flight, let's land." Gregan tried to remain calm. His anger was slowly boiling inside of him.

As they descended below the clouds they were met by a unwelcome aight. A column of smoke rose from the side of the ship as they began to try and land. Metal scrap prices and fire was floating on the water as they saw some bodies still bobbing up and down. One of the SU-24's must have let a missile loose and it got past the defences.

It was then as Derango flight began to land that they knew this war would last. Their home had been hit, fellow comrades now lay in the water burning and slowly sinking into the water. Gregans view on the war changed that day as he got out of the F-15 as it was being lowered back into the Carriers hangar. Derango flight was personally committed to the war effort now. The fire on the ship was slowly gotten rid of and the dead bodies were removed from the water. But unlike the bodies in the water, the image of Derango 1-2 exploding stayed in his head.

[Neo ORB]

(Former Lt.) Douglas Getty:
Callsign: Judas Zero
(exact location unknown)

I looked at Juke, he seemed satisfied with my answer, but of course he was, but I really didn't have a choice either way and we both knew it.
Silently however I listened, they needed proof before I used one of the "special planes". but that was fair enough, after ll handing the key of a nuke to a five year old would be irresponsible, the same when for this current situation.

"Yeah, gotta see you kill some of those Union scumbags." pointed out Arrakis. while wringing out a piece of his suit, I lightly smile at the water thinking of some analogy that could correspond with my current situation as I listened to the conversation back and forth. Then in the corner of my eye I saw Ribbium turn away before then turning back shortly with a update.
"Ah, interesting." "Looks like they're after Avalon. Just got word they picked up a large contingent of fighters on radar heading towards there as we speak."

"We're running out of options. We've lost quite a few of our trump cards. Avalon will be the next to go." I then watched him lift his head as if an idea had popped out, I knew it was going to be horrible, but kept my mouth shut.
"Melt the cities. Drive them away from Avalon. Make them cry away in fear."
"Judas. I will provide you with a fighter and a contingent of fighters to provide reinforcements to our forces at Avalon, our missile fortress. Don't die. Do well and you'll be well rewarded. That will be the yield of progress."

"Oh, be sure to save that bastard with the eighth notes for me. I want to see what it takes to crack him." said Ribbium with a grin.

"We've got a few high end fighters we grabbed from the Slavic militias you can use in the meantime. They are a bit better than the ones we picked up here in the Balkans." Juke explained to me.
"Some high end Sukois and Migs. I'll leave the choice to you. My apologies if its a bit of a stretch from that Hornet of yours. I advise you run before all the fun is over."

I couldn't help lightly smile when he said "High end." as I watched him point to some direction in the hanger I nodded silently and then jogged off towards it for a moment before quickly turning around and speaking.
"Understood, but also; no promises, but Ribbium if you want to break someone... Rip apart the things he cares for... it was enough to break me once after all.
But be careful, Rage and anger can also be used as a focal point for advancement as well. If he starts getting too grown, nip it like a bad branch."

I then resumed back towards the hanger direction walking for a few minutes until I reached the point I needed, I froze for a moment as my grip on my pack released and t fell tot he floor it a sold thump. They were going to provide me with these as my choices... Slowly I placed my hand to my face using my palm to cover the grin I held... This.... this was going to be fun. Maybe teaming with these guys wasn't going to be such a bad way to kill some time. And when I get tired of them... I'll toss them to the Union with a smile.

---

The feel of the aircraft in my hands was exotic... it had taken me a good few minutes wasting time until I finally choose the Su-47, sure it wasn't my F-22 back in the old days, but it was close enough as it gave me a feeling of reminiscences, as I was caught in my memory on the way over.
Luckily they had chosen my extra armament for me, although there wasn't much to choose from when it came to the Su-47, and since this was a suppression, AA was required. 10 QAAM's that was my life line, the moment they were all used up I was running and that order had been given to my squadron as well. But I also gave them the choice to ignore that order as well.

It was as I reached Avalon that I finally placed the mask over my mouth and felt the taste of the oxygen... gotta love modern survival equipment as I spoke to the squad while we were still out of our own messages interception range. Even if that was changing fast.
"Right, our objectives are to stall for time until the ICBM's launch and get into boost phase. As I warned on the way over, when I've used up my QAAMS I'm returning to base. Follow or stay, the choice is yours."

As I paused I could see the fighting in the distance rapidly closing, the few explosions started to awake something once again within me.
"I want standard formation until special weapons missile lock, then let them have it and fight in groups. I don't want casualty's out here.
Echo Four, Echo Five, watch my back but don't break away from your group unless you see it's dire."
"Roger."

It was then I could see the incoming fighters as my radar lit up, they had noticed us. Good let them stream in, since we'll do the same, and all they would get is a volley of missiles in droves to watch.
"Aright Boys, Engage. "
However as I said that, I saw a squadron, specifically in Mig's to my right. We had seconds until we were on top of them, but then I saw it fire missiles. My warning systems didn't suddenly wane so I knew I was safe, but I watched them quickly impact into Echo Five, I watched his plane balloon and turn into a ball of fire. He hadn't the time to eject. His life was so easily cut short in the matter of seconds...
I grit my teeth lightly, although I didn't have the slightest recollection of why?, sure I hadn't know the man. I held no conversations or contact with him until a half hour ago, but surely he had loved ones waiting for him back home, no that was true for all of us... all of us with the exception of me...
Was she sad?, that I had been downed? I wondered that momentarily and then focused on what was before me as the squads started to brake apart.
"Was that a MiG-21? What the hell, is he joking?"
I watched however as the same pilot came around once again and fired two missile into another plane, I sighed lightly as watched the planes wing blow off and it fall to the ground as its pilot ejected out. And there goes Echo four. Looks like I'm on my own.

I watched others income as the formations finally broke off, seemed like most had somehow been paired up, no matter I was free to hunt, but as I was about to follow up on that thought as I pushed the afterburners in full force my warning system waned nosily. I checked my radar as saw it coming from behind me. Funny, it really was. As I pushed my plane into a rocket as I headed for the sun, At the same time I dropped a few flares until the missile lock was broken. As I looked behind me at the plane that had wanted to engage I could see it was a Typhoon...

They had brought a Typhoon? against a Su-47... I had to compliment the pilot on there courage as I brought the plane into a heavy g-turn using the sun as a visual blocker and then headed; right back at the typhoon no, that wasn't right, I blitzed right for it as I brought my QAAM's up, watched the lock, fired and then forgot about its existence. One down, nine more to go.
I quickly fell into a downwards roll as I looked for a new target. I quickly found a Union pilot almost directly below me streaming for one of the shutters still hoping for it to open suddenly. I smiled as quickly turned my plane and found myself quickly behind him.
I didn't give him a chance to react to my sudden presence as I pulled my Vulcans 30mm machine gun into his tail. A few dozen rounds went right up and shredded his tail fins as he hastily ejected as the bullets also nicked his engines.

With a smile I quickly disengaged aiming for a higher altitude. While climbing however I quickly intercepted another two union pilots as they chased my new comrade. And unlike the first; gave them no mercy as I fired two separate QAAM's into each of sides and watched them explode as two fellow Su-37's got away by the skin of there teeth. Three QAAM's down, Seven to go I silently thought as I flew fearlessly through the most recent kill's debris as it fell to the ground around me.

[Post War America]

Avalon

Moreno had been jockeying with the Terminator he got matched up with for quite some time. The bird was fast, annoyingly so, and the pilot, unlike most of the trash that the Mandate had picked up, was actually surprisingly good. He was struggling to stay behind him, and unable to get a lock he had settled for firing quick bursts of cannon fire at the terminator. The Terminator pilot, in a quick action pulled a high G turn rapidly coming up on his six, and for a moment Moreno heard the terrifying Missile lock alert, before he pushed his bird around hard with the missile veering off into a cliff face. The Terminator was better however, and slid behind him firing his own cannon. Moreno took a big risk, cutting his throttle, with the Terminator overshooting in a few seconds.

"Wizard Three has been hit, going down". Moreno look off to his right, the middle aircraft, a Berkut had shaken Veracruz and was going after Union pilots over the dam. Veracruz himself had just shaken off two missiles, and was coming back around to engage the middle aircraft. There was a telltale buzz indicating he was on a public channel when he said.

"Your fight is with me your Visarian Dog"! Moreno's attention deficit had cost him as the Terminator was on his 9 o'clock and rapidly going getting behind him.

"Macarena splash one"! Galvez announced over the comms indicating that she had dealt with her terminattor. She was unaware of Veracruz's situation, moving in to help the younger pilot with his kill. The Terminator was now behind Moreno, and Moreno was barely above stall speed. So he decided to do something completely insane. He gunned the engines pushing he Typhoon rapidly towards the edge of the valley, before making a hard turn a millisecond short of hitting the mountain. Luck was on his side, as the Terminator pilot slammed into the side of the mountain at mach 1.5.

"Sidewinder splash one I... I guess".

"Wizard 5 is down". Veracruz was going full speed towards the enemy ace, firing a pair of missiles at him as he screamed over the comms.

"Your fight is with me! Come after me! Fight with a real ace instead off those boys"! He managed to close, and fire a long burst of cannon fire at the enemy ace to no effect, firing another pair of missiles as the first ones failed.

[Neo ORB]

(Former Lt.) Douglas Getty:
Callsign: Judas Zero
(Avalon)

It was after I had my most recent kill that I finally took notice of the voice shouting on a public channel. Was that the pilot from the first QAAM? he had shaken it off? No matter such a feat wasn't a hard exception in general... Ahh who was I kidding it was impressive to gain hold over the fear of an incoming missile and then shake it off, but he seemed to be fairly angry? I wondered why as I calmly rolled out of the way of the pilots sudden missiles.

It was then I realized what he had said. As I watched a flash of tracer rounds blindly miss as I lightly shook the plane before missile warnings once again blared around me. Did this guy not know when to quit? such foolishness was going to be the end of him.
I quickly pulled my plane into a barrel roll as I further popped flares to disengage locks. I was rapidly running out of such a tool with its frequent usage, and while combat maneuvering out of a missiles path was enjoyable, it was mind numbingly painful as well.

"Your fight is with me! Come after me! Fight with a real ace instead off those boys"!
If I could have put my hand on my face in some sort of gag reaction, this would be the time to do it. Didn't this guy realize there was a war going on? did he think this was some walk in the park? No.. his words had annoyed me, a real ace wouldn't have shouted on a public channel, but I guess I was at the moment no better as I switched to the same channel and responded.

"A real Ace wouldn't be drawing attention to himself on a public channel Boy...
Since you enjoy seeing your friends perish allow me to show you the true horrors of battle.
All pilots, its time to stop playing around..."

With that simple command I then looked at the field before me, my allies in blue, and my enemies in red... with a small smile I pushed the plane's afterburners and quickly advanced on some of the pilots who were chasing or in the stragglers. Quickly I watched as I came once again on another enemy plane in some deep chase and then fired a QAAM into his engines, I watched him explode and then I used a high G turn and got hit with a sudden pane of dizziness. The unfortunate side effect of a Su-47 in its extreme mobility was commonly known to disorient its pilots making them unable to tell the sky from the ground. Four

As I looked back, I could see two now on my tail. Avoiding them would be further in a disadvantage as I targeted another passing by plane and lit him up with a QAAM and two standards. Five. I didn't need to see the QAAM explode against the right wing of the plane sending it towards the ground in an uncontrollable downwards spiral until one of the two other missiles slammed into its falling carcase.

And then I finally set my sights on the pilot who had continued to chase me until this moment, as I pulled into another heavy turn and realigned with the two to make a pass. As the standard lock came in I fired a missile for each plane respectively towards them, I wondered if they would continue to overcome the fear of a missile if they could see it streaming right for them...
"I hope your ready... because here I come..."

[Armellenia]

Hydra traversed the battlespace, searching for more targets. An enemy Su-47 dashed out in front of his aircraft, yet another above the average Visarian pilot. He pulled back on the throttle, allowing him a tighter turn radius as he threw his aircraft upwards. If it wasn't already ridiculously upgraded, the wings would probably snap.

The high G turn nailed him to his seat, and as he finally managed to center up on the Berkut he was losing speed.

Engaging the afterburner, he pursued the enemy aircraft for only a few seconds; he knew that the Berkut could out climb his MiG.

Leveling out, the Berkut got confident and leveled out as well. Tipping his nose down, the enemy pilot seemed to try and attempt a dive to turn and get on Hydra's tail. Engaging the afterburner, Hydra followed suit as the Berkut dived, centering up for a final time on his opponent's tail.

"This is Frostbite One. Fox Two, Fox Two." He said into his radio as he rapidly fired two missiles.

The two missiles sped towards their target, one missing; however, the other scored a lucky shot and hit the engines directly. The aircraft went silent after the explosion, it's engines seemingly cut off. Only seconds later, the aircraft exploded. The pilot ejected, but the blast caught him, engulfing him in fire.

"Splash... three, is it now?" He nonchalantly announced over the radio.

"Me and Three have shared two kills, by the way, Hydra. Reform?" Lynx asked.

Hydra paused as he scanned the skies, ascending to make up for lost altitude. Most of the enemy fighters were either shot down or already being chased by other aircraft.

However, that ace pilot fighting one of the Lanceros stuck out. Hydra quickly decided to ascend to their altitude and intercept the ace if the Lancero slipped up.

He responded in the radio call as he reached the battlezone of the two pilots.

"No, Lynx. Not yet."

[The LBP Union]

"Rapier 4 and 5 are down!" Came a cry over the airwaves.

"Lost radar contact with a few of our top cover aircraft." Came another call.

"Euphony! Stay alert, stay alive!" Reaper advised harshly.

"One and a half minutes until launch. Stay focused." Midnight Eye informed.

Euphony watched the intense dance above them and witnessed the ISAF fighters downed by a black blur. His HUD showed it as a Su-47. This was no ordinary pilot, and the style seemed rather similar. It had a radical touch to it, and rather daring. The other enemy reinforcements were little trouble for the well skilled Frostbite and Lanceros teams, but this solo pilot was concerning. Euphony took some potshots at the enemy fighters above, but wasn't at a very good angle to hit any of them, which brought him to retain his QAAMs rather than waste them. He kept light on his toes, as much as one could up in the sky. He didn't want to get murdered in a dive maneuver like the other ISAF pilots.

The moment came eventually as Melody team spent the next minute and a half avoiding getting involved in the carnage above. Still, even after anticipating the moment for some time now, Euphony was still surprised when the missiles fired. They came out slowly at first, and he had to realign himself to point towards one. They started getting faster and faster, and he fired both his missiles at one. Both of course hit home, but the missile wasn't destroyed yet, only damaged. He finished it off with his guns and two QAAMs. He turned his head to see five more missiles they had to take care of, climbing into the sky. He cranked on the after burner and moved to fire on a missile nobody else was engaging.

Reaper had taken another down, and moved to attack another. Four more were left. '

"We're running low on free hands here, Midnight Eye." Euphony called out. Could they pull this off in time? The next missile he gave chase to was pulling away faster and higher. Some of the other ISAF pilots in the area were chasing them down as well. His F-16's thrust to weight ratio wasn't built for this steep of a climb, a sharp 90 degrees, but his modified engine endured.

He managed to take the next one down. Three more to go.

Reaper took another one down. Two more to go.

Another ISAF pilot managed to take another out. One more to go.

"The last one's getting away!" Reaper shouted.

They all gave chase to the last ICBM. It was very high up now. High enough that Euphony's plane was beginning to stall. He struggled to maintain control of the aircraft. Some of the ISAF planes fired their missiles and managed to damage the missile. His F-16 started to shake and he fired both missiles and two more QAAMs at the ICBM just before he nosed down into a gut wrenching stall. On his display, the words DESTROYED appeared, indicating that his target had been shot down. He did it.

"This is Gladius, we've got the fortress shutters opening." Came a radio call from the ground crew.

"About time." Midnight Eye sighed. "Good work, everyone. We're very proud of you, but the mission's not over yet. We've got to finish off Avalon once and for all. Any ISAF forces still available, get down there and destroy the critical points underground I've marked on your HUD, and we'll be out of here."

Euphony cranked on the afterburner, still having his nose down and raced towards the ground to finish off this blasted fortress.

[Post War America]

Avalon

This ace pilot was good, there was to be no doubt about that, having evaded several missiles and dodging successfully away from a well aimed cannon burst. Veracruz, was sure that the shots were going to hit, as he became an expert with the BK-27 in the Typhoon, having earned three of his five recorded kills. This pilot was damned good in fact, and that fact was highly annoying to Veracruz. More vexing to Veracruz on this pilot's insistence on shooting down the less skilled squadrons of Union nuggets. Clearly this ace was honorless scum, unwilling to engage someone at his own skill level. His gloating further compounded the issue, and Veracruz was rapidly losing his famous cool. Another allied pilot was slain as his craft exploded over the dam. As he swung around for some unknown purpose, Veracruz put two missiles into a retreating MiG out of pure anger. He was outraged, and it was becoming apparent his wroth was impacting his capability. AWACS confirmed another lost allied plane as Veracruz swung his craft around to one again get on the enemy's tail.

"Wizard 7 has been splashed". Veracruz noticed that the Ace had locked onto two of his squadron mates, as one of them splashed the remaining enemy Terminator. Three missiles that could have only been QAAMs went away from the valley at high speed indicating that the Lanceros had managed to narrowly avoid them, but another found its mark in an allied pilot who had the misfortune of running into another one that was intended for a Lancero. He fired his two missiles at the two close Lanceros who did not notice quickly enough to properly evade and each were damaged. One had taken a hit to an engine and spiraled briefly out of control before regaining it. The other took a hit to the side, blowing off a chunk of skin, and cabling which fell out of the sky, shaking the Typhoon up briefly before the pilot retained control.

"Shit! Vaquero to allied forces, I've taken a severe hit. I have to withdraw". The train of aircraft continued to dance around each other, unable to properly line up further shots. Cruz dove out of the fight, desperately trying to avoid another hit, which would likely be fatal to the bird.

"AWACS Midnight Eye to Vaquero. Negative we cannot afford to lose any functioning craft".

"Vaquero to Midnight Eye, I am down an engine. I cannot continue to engage". There was a tense second long pause as the aircraft continued their dance.

"Copy that Vaquero, you are cleared to leave the airspace". Cruz pulled away from the furball, limping away from the combat airspace and back to base.

"BASTARD!", shouted Veracruz to the allied comms. as he fired a long, and completely ineffectual burst of cannon fire, expending half of his remaining ammo on the air, as the enemy easily dodged out of the way. It was becoming very clear that his rage was of severe detriment to his flying. The Lancero in front of the enemy cut their speed falling behind both the enemy and Veracruz.. The pilot spoke on the comms, it was Galvez.

"Captain, you're losing your head. Stay calm, that is how you have always won, with a cool head. We can win once more if you'd regain your senses". Somehow the voice of Galvez was soothing to the wrathful Veracruz. He managed to pause and catch his breath, cooling off enough to gain better awareness of the situation. The enemy ace still proved to be challenging to match, his Berkut much more maneuverable than Veracruz's Typhoon. The two had to compete for each other's rear for quite some time, beore Veracruz managed to get behind the enemy ace for a few seconds, long enough to do what must be done. Once more he spoke over the public comms.

¡"Es la ahora a demonstro como el Final Caballero de España volan. escoria de Visara"! "Its time to show you how El Final Caballero de España flies, Visaran scum"! He lined his gun up with the ace's tail and let rip with a burst of cannon fire, following up, by unloading two more missiles at the enemy ace.

[Neo ORB]

(Former Lt.) Douglas Getty:
Callsign: Judas Zero
(Avalon)

The passes were painful, in fact it was feeling almost entirely like a blur by now as we danced. I saw the two planes who had been chasing me take the hits. with a smile I saw that they were entirely fatal, but it was enough to cause one of them to finally back off. However that one guy just would not quit. We flew for minutes passing each other aiming for the tails of each other, but the countdown to the missile launch was distracting me enough to keep form pulling the same high maneuvers I had been performing the entire time.

It was as the ICBM's finally launched however cause me to be completely distracted, I couldn't help it, they had actually launched six WMD's and silently I cursed them for it. if I had been on their side I would have gladly even flown my plane into one of the missiles engines in a suicide run.
But alas I was their enemy, and even though I had valuable information I could leak, I didn't know if anyone was listening to the broadcasts which meant still for the moment I had too keep quiet.

However in this distraction I could see the enemy no longer, quickly I looked around but found nothing until a chilling voice that made my nerves of steel momentarily freeze came once more over a public radio broadcast.
"¡"Es la ahora a demonstro como el Final Caballero de España volan. escoria de Visara"
"Shit... he's gotten behind me."

And then I head it, the sound of bullets shredding into my tail as well as one striking the glass over my head, I didn't duck down since, it wasn't like there was a grand amount of cover anyway as I quickly pulled on the stick trying to dive further out of the line of fire. But the response was slow, had one of my yaw's been hit?. The sound of a warning alarm made me once again further pause, radar showed missiles. I screamed loudly to myself as I was trying to roll the craft to the left as I fired off the last of my flares. I could see one remain on target. And then felt the explosion as the missile struck into my engines.

And then I didn't know what was what anymore as my plane fishtailed out of control. The spiral was disorienting, but I grit my teeth and bit my cheek hard using the pain to try and keep myself focused aiming to recover the aircraft. My engine output was maybe minimal, damage severe, but maybe not severe enough to entirely cripple the craft as I slowly aimed to steady it after several seconds of fear inducing spin downwards. I didn't know what was up or down anymore as I tried to fly the craft. The smarter thing to do was simply to eject but if anything I wanted to at least get this craft back to base.

It seemed luck was on my side as the pain and blood in my mouth allowed me to sharpen my senses as I finally steadied the craft and sighed in relief. I didn't know if I was still being chased, but now was a very good time to pull out as I pushed the craft as much as I could as I watched a trail of black smoke follow behind me. I could see crafts diving towards the shutters with the intent of putting Avalon out of business for good.

And then I saw it, a F-16 in a step dive near by, with the engine output was it worth the risk to go for one more kill?
I grit my blood covered teeth and then decided to engage. I had seen this F-16 before in a few photos from the sat surveillance. I pushed the Su into a dive with a diagonal line of entry at seven o'clock and switched to my QAAM's. I was going to fire both missiles as the lock engaged... I waited a moment and then pulled it twice as two QAAM's were let loose before pulling off and disengaging from the combat zone for good.

"All surviving fighters, break off and return to base, Avalon has fallen... there's no point in defending a monument of scrap further..."
I then switched to the public communication's and then quickly spoke, I knew someone might be listening, but no matter the cost, I had to say those words still kept in my throat.

"Thank you, for stopping those ICBM's Euphony... Until we met again... because next time, i'll be sure to shoot you down..."
The final words had been my cover for anyone listening, but if Midnight Eye, if anyone remembered my voice, it might help them disconcert my current fate, but for now I was there enemy, and they; mine.
We had lost a lot today, but this war was still far from over.

[Post War America]

Avalon

Veracruz's shoots were aimed true, as Galvez watched from his 7 o'clock, the cannons shredded the enemy's tail, and the missiles gave the enemy ace a very hard time. One managed to hit the ace, and for a moment Galvez though that Veracruz had scored another kill. However, at the last second the enemy ace managed to pull back up, and out of the death spiral before crashing into the dam. It was very clear that the Berkut was heavily damaged and was out of the fight for now. Galvez breathed a sigh of relief, as they ace had proven deadly, having downed several craft, and damn near downing one of her own squadron mates. Galvez's own Typhoon had taken a hit, when a close blast from a missile had taken out most of her control surfaces, and making right banks a pain in the ass to pull off.

Galvez could see, out of the corner of her eye, the last ICBM slamming into the surface of the dam and exploding, indicating that the Union two ship group had done their job. She was relieved that impending doom had been prevented once more. Another piece of good news came in from the ground.

"This is Gladius, we've got the fortress shutters opening." The ground team had done their job, even if it was a few minutes late, leaving the innards of the dam bare for ISAF craft to move in and gut the fortress, putting the king at Avalon back to sleep. AWACS issued new orders at that development.

"About time. Good work, everyone. We're very proud of you, but the mission's not over yet. We've got to finish off Avalon once and for all. Any ISAF forces still available, get down there and destroy the critical points underground I've marked on your HUD, and we'll be out of here." With the shutters open, the two ISAF pilots that had destroyed the missiles were now gunning it directly into the dam itself. Galvez herself had trepidation about taking such a rash act, especially given her craft's reduced turning capability. It came as a relief then when Veracruz spoke over the comms, redirecting the Lanceros.

"This is Mourning Dove to allied forces, we will provide top cover over the dam, keep the skies clear for you. Wouldn't want it to get too crowded down there, eh"? There were still several MiGs over the dam, even though the elite squadron had been routed. However, with the dam's air defense net dismantled, their reinforcements killed or fleeing, and many of their number killed or fled, they had lost all will to fight. A command, probably accidentally over the public comms, confirmed the collapse of Avalon's defense.

"All surviving fighters, break off and return to base, Avalon has fallen... there's no point in defending a monument of scrap further..." At this, the remaining elite squadron members disengaged for real and lit off to some unknown location. Most of the MiG pilots, already scared shitless followed suit. A few remained however, either to cover the retreat, our out of some misguided attempt at glory. As the enemy departed, an enemy pilot, presumably the enemy ace spoke over the public comms, a bone chilling threat.

"Thank you, for stopping those ICBM's Euphony... Until we met again... because next time, i'll be sure to shoot you down"... That last message was truly frightening on multiple levels. Firstly, the cold, almost robotic way in which it was delivered was frightening in of itself, equaling the captain at his most frightening. The enemy ace spoke as if he knew one of the allied pilots, which was concerning. Did he actually know the Union pilots, or was he bluffing? Why would he speak like that? The most disconcerting thing, was the ace's certainty when he said he'd shoot the Union pilot down. While ISAF had won a major victory it was very clear that the war was far from over, and that countless more lives would have to be lost to finally restore peace and order to the Lawless Zone.

[Armellenia]

Hydra raced to the scene of battle between the two pilots, and arrived just in time for the messages sent from the Visarian pilot to call off the enemy attack.

Didn't his voice sound familiar?

Oh, it was that overzealous guy who jumped in for one mission and immediately got shot down. Hydra didn't feel like going after him; the Lanceros would probably get on his ass for it, and because there were really only two or three foreign squadrons, he didn't feel like getting under the skin of one.

Besides, if they wanted to follow "the Knight's code," they could do so, and get shot down in the process. That left more enemy aircraft for Hydra to destroy anyways.

Speaking of destroying aircraft, there seemed to be one of the straggler MiG-29's left; some newbie who got his entire squadron wiped out. He dived on it, bent on getting one more aerial kill for the mission. His finger hovered over the missile firing switch. He waited until just the right moment...

*click*

Dark yellow text flashed before his HUD, a notification mentioning that no missiles were able to fire for the current moment.

Dammit.

He yanked the stick up, throwing himself into yet another high-G maneuver. The enemy pilot decided to dive as well, getting dangerously close to the ground in order to avoid Hydra.

As soon as his semi-consciousness returned, he yanked the stick again, to the left, to get on the tail of the Fulcrum.

A noise in his HUD viciously repeated the telltale phrase of being too damn low to the ground, one which he knew too well.

But it wasn't time to pull up. Finally aligned with the enemy Fulcrum, he engaged his afterburner in order to catch up to the damned aircraft.

Yet again, a light flashed somewhere in his cockpit, a result of the recent upgrades to his aircraft. He was within gun range.

Firing in bursts, he gunned for the enemy plane as it jerked left and right to avoid the tracers which raced out rapidly from his cannon.

Finally, a direct hit was scored, and the enemy pilot's wing was seared off. It spun out of control and slammed into the ground, with the pilot hitting the ejector switch while having the remnants of the aircraft inverted. It created quite the dust cloud as the pilot slammed into the cement of Avalon Dam.

Pulling up, Hydra broadcast a message to his flight.

"Frostbite, reform on me. Get ready to attack the targets in the dam."

[The LBP Union]

Ninety degrees of descent, straight down towards the ground from forty angels at least. It was a death sentence for most at this speed. Euphony positioned himself at an angle to the tunnel which opened below, marked on his HUD. Rocketing towards the opening, he heard a voice over the public comms which was startlingly familiar,

"Thank you, for stopping those ICBM's Euphony... Until we met again... because next time, i'll be sure to shoot you down..."

Judas?

Missile warnings blared. Euphony pulled up. As the plane angled up and began to put the thrust behind the Falcon, the descent speed decreased and forward velocity rose a bit slowly. He fell right into the tunnel, missiles coming at the rectangular hole from a horizontal angle. Euphony could see now that the tunnel had a floor. He nearly touched it as his plane's downward momentum dissipated just in time. The QAAMs continued to track him with a relentless persistence, turning to face Euphony's F-16 via their infrared homing. However, they had the ground to contend with first, and both of them slammed into part of the fortress.

Euphony was going very fast at this point, and threw his spoiler and flaps up to maintain control so he wouldn't over G and crash into the side of the tunnel. He was surrounded on all four sides. Left, right, up and down. The walls were metallic and unnatural. He felt cramped, and didn't feel in control of his movements. He spotted the targets pointed out by the AWACS. They appeared to be the missile silos and other key critical points. He gunned at these and shot missiles at them to destroy them and continued on, unable to stop his progression through the tunnel. Each target would explode with a great brilliance that appealed to the eye. Euphony liked it. No, he didn't like it from a moral perspective. There was a certain beauty to war, and Euphony couldn't understand why he knew it. No matter how much blood was spilled, it was undeniable that the human eye was indifferent towards the dying. It saw the magnificence of the flak cannons, the tracer rounds, the missile warnings, the death. Euphony didn't want to think this way, and his eyes began to tear.

"Melody 2 is in the tunnel!" Midnight Eye called out. "Do we have anybody in the second tunnel?"

"Looks like Frostbite is heading that way." Reaper reported. "That about wraps this up."

Euphony saw the exit before him and pulled up as he reached it. There were no more targets in the tunnel. Grasping for sunlight, Euphony was free of the small space.

"All targets in the west tunnel are down. Excellent work, Melody 2. East tunnel is about to be mopped up. Hostile forces are evacuating! Let's finish this and go home." Midnight Eye reported.

Reaper formed up with Euphony as they began to adjust their heading to fly back to Matera.

"Damn, I never thought it would be you." Reaper exclaimed rather calmly.

---

Debrief

The briefing room was packed once again, and Euphony had heard that even more pilots from abroad would be arriving soon. How they would all fit them in this room without causing a fire hazard would be a mystery. The ISAF pilots made Euphony uncomfortable as they praised him for his accomplishments. Euphony struggled with this because anybody could have destroyed those targets in the tunnel. He just happened to be there first. Besides, Frostbite did some damage as well.

"Good work today, everyone. Thanks to you, we've prevented a particularly nasty nuclear exchange. Looks like the Avalon Dam is out of commission. Judging by the trajectories of the ICBMs, we can tell that they were pointed at several Union cities, including Las Calles as well as several other nearby nations. They were going to try and make a nuclear statement. Where they got these weapons is unknown." Goodfellow began as usual. "However, it is important to note that the enemy satellites in orbit still linger, and due to certain space treaties we cannot use ASAT weapons to shoot them down due to the space debris that such an act results in. We will continue to plan a method of destroying their remote coffin capability."

Apparently ASAT weapons of the day were kinetic based and would smash satellites into millions of pieces, which would continue to orbit the Earth. Kinetic based ASATs have mostly been condemned for being a dangerous source of space debris.

"It's hard to say which team performed the best today, you all performed very well. Get some rest, you deserve it." Goodfellow concluded.

---

Visarian Headquarters, Central Romania

Many fighters had been sent to defend Avalon. Only a few returned, as well as Judas. While the Mandate officers at Avalon may have heard Judas' public radio calls, it was too late for them to report this to their superiors here.

The airbase facilitated the planes' return, and recgnised Judas' Berkut's damages and took care of them accordingly.

Judas was brought back to the Visarian administration's control room, where they stood in discussion.

"So much for that." Ribbium mused. "Judas here's a wash up."

"Enough, there were other circumstances that prevented his success." Juke pointed out. "With some better planning, we will be able to succeed next time."

"I agree." Arrakis nodded.

"The Union's next move will be to shoot down our satellites for COFFIN relaying and recon. They will need to get creative to avoid the space debris treaties. We'll be watching their possible locations for launching a device to handle this, and once we discover where they are launching it from, we'll send a contingent of fighters to foil the launch." Juke strategised. "We haven't finished the manual in cockpit COFFIN system for the TX-T just yet, so we'll be fixing up that Berkut for you for the next mission, Judas." His expression was cold and collect. If someone knew how to plan a war, it was Juke.

"We will continue this later." Juke concluded, and retreated into a hallway adjacent to the control room, followed by Arrakis. Ribbium leaned to Judas' ear for a moment with a quiet whisper,

"If you think you know how to break someone down better than I can, you are a fool."

Ribbium chuckled and egressed from the room, leaving Judas with the guards that had guided him there, which politely guided him to his quarters to spend the night.

[Post War America]

Materera Airbase, Italy

It had been a tense several hours, Veracruz had been fretting to rest of the Lanceros unceasingly about the status of Cruz. He was in desperate need of good news, and refused to shut up for the majority of the flight. Only in the last hour did he stop, and only after a ten minute long rant from Moreno that Cruz was a capable pilot, who had just happened to get hit, he pulled out the fight, and managed to escape in relatively good shape. It did little to calm Veracruz's fevered mind, this was small potatoes to Veracruz's past engagements but he remained bent out of shape over the smallest details, refusing to simply accept the mission was done, and ignore the numerous dead allied pilots that were put in an early grave for his glory seeking ways. He did eventually cool off, in time to start landing protocols.

He touched the ground with great haste, breaking regulation on taxi speed to get back into his hangar. Of course, he tried to play ignorant of the whole matter when called out for it by those in charge of the runways, but to very limited avail. When he did pull up to the hangar he noticed a distinct lack of Cruz's Typhoon parked in it. This immediately set off warning bells in Veracruz's head, warning bells which damn near caused him to run over an inattentive groundie as he turned his Tyhpoon about in the hangar. The second the engines were dead, he tore off all of his straps and removed his helmet at a rate that would seem impossible to anybody who was not there at the time. As the canopy opened a groundy on the ladder asked him the same question they always did after sortie.

"How many kills today sir"? Veracruz was dismissive of the question when he responded.

"Four, but that's not important. Where is my man? He should have arrived here earlier". The groundy made a gesture indicating four kills to another member of the ground crew.

"He... hasn't showed up here sir. I'd check with tower see if they put him somewhere else". Galvez was just getting out of her bird, making a three gesture with one hand, and pointing to the gouged hole from the missile hit with her other. Veracruz rushed off purposefully away from the hangar. Galvez, immediately noticing something wrong rushed off after him. He was in the tower moments later, the armed guards not stopping him. He moved as if a man possessed up the stairs, damn near bowling over the second set of guards at the door to the control room. They didn't try to stop him seriously, as the expression on his face indicated a rancor of the wrothful. He busted through the door.

"Where is my man"‽ The nearest Air Traffic Controller, the one in charge of the control room stood up attempting to control Veracruz and remove him from the room, before the situation got explosive.

"Sir, you aren't allowed in here...". Veracruz refused to take this as answer, way beyond worked up at this point, his nerves completely shot from the mission, from the flight home, from all of it.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MAN"‽ Veracruz punched the wall, his fist going through the drywall. "TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK HE IS OR MY NEXT PUNCH HITS YOUR FUCKING FACE"! The Air Traffic Controller, somewhat intimidated by a Veracruz that turned several shades redder in a few seconds, gestured the guards away before responding.

"What is the identifier of your man"? Veracruz calmed slightly.

"Lancero Four"! The Air Traffic controller swiveled around.

"Johnson, what do we have on Lancero Four in the last three hours"? The Controller that he spoke to frantically began searching through the computer's records. After about fifteen seconds his brow furrowed.

"Sir, Lancero Four reported a flame out over the Adriatic. He had to put his craft down in the water. We sent out a search party an hour ago, but in all likelihood, he's gone". Veracruz did not respond well.

No More! was the thought that raced through his mind. Unable to think rationally, Veracruz let out the pent up rage in the only way he could. He let out a scream that lasted for several seconds before regaining some semblance of rationality before storming out, shoving past a Galvez who had just arrived. She immediately recovered and turned about to talk to Veracruz.

"Captain what the hell is going on"?

¡"Nada Màs"!
"No More"!

"Captain"?

¡"Nada Màs"!

"Arturo"? Veracruz broke stride for the first time since he got off his craft.

"Cruz... Cruz es muerto". "Cruz... Cruz is dead". He continued walking, hot, angry, ashamed, tears began to roll down his cheek.

¿"Arturo què es malo"? "Arturo, what's wrong"?Veracruz didn't break stride again, nearing the hangar.

¿"Cuántos màs esperan por mi en el inferno"? "How many more wait for me in Hell"? As he approached the hangar he put his hands up, addressing the groundies working on his plane. "Stop. Stop right now".

"What sir"? The lead groundy turned around.

"There's gonna be some changes to my plane. Don't work on it until I tell you what to do, comprendo"? The groundy had some trepidation, but he agreed. Veracruz turned around and headed for debriefing with Galvez, and an unfortunately just out of craft Moreno in tow.

---

The Debrief

Veracruz was having trouble sitting still during the debrief. He couldn't console himself with Goodfellow's words, despite saving thousands, possibly more lives with the destruction of the nukes, Veracruz couldn't take pride in his actions. All he could see was Cruz's face, and the blood on his own hands. He manged to keep his expression calm and level headed, but it was all he could manage to keep that facade up. The mention of COFFIN didn't help. COFFIN was the second highest act of dishonor that could exist, it enraged him to think about it, people behind a screen, hundreds of miles away blowing away their hapless foes without the slightest chance at any real retaliation. It was almost dishonorable as Veracruz's own mist dishonorable act, the one that drove him into his "knighthood". It was all he could do to hold together until the end of the briefing, at which point he left promptly not leaving any room for socialization. When Galvez tried to slow him down he simply ignored her. It was time for a change, a change that only the groundies could deliver in time.

---

Barracks, that Night

Veracruz attempted to get some sleep that night, desperately hoping that tonight's rest would be better than last night's. Something which would prove to be impossible. He found himself transported elsewhere. He looked off in both directions, seeing nothing but rolling dry hills as far as the eye could see. It would be a perfect match for the plains of Andalusia. Perfect except for one small detail. The earth upon which Veracruz stood was cold, and lifeless, completely crushing with its cloying drain of energy, the land looked as if it had been sucked dry of all life and color, instead looking worn and grey, going on forever in its overwhelming emptiness. Only when he centered his head once more did another figure appear. It was Cruz, standing there, soaking wet, but otherwise unharmed. His hair waved gently back and forth as if being pushed by unseen waves, and smelling strongly of brine.

¿"Por què morí"? "Why did I die"? He asked the question with a mixture of mournfulness, and childlike inquisitiveness, like a puppy that had been given a voice as its master was strangling it to death.

¡"Cállate"! "Shut Up"! Veracruz tried to move past Cruz, but Cruz followed him, repeating himself.

¿"Por què morí"? Veracruz tired to ignore him, before running into another. It was Ortega, a pilot from his last mission in the Balkans, the one just before the formation of the mandate. A whole had been put through his face, and his body was riddled with several other large holes. His voice was raspy as if he were struggling to breathe.

"¿Por què morí?" they said in unison.

¡"Nada Màs"! Veracruz was starting to lose what little calm he had in the first place. They followed him was he withdrew picking up the pace. Another voice entered the chorus. It was Andrede, his neck in an angle that was impossible for any man to mantain, his face bright blue, as if he was being strangled.

"¿Por què morí?"

¡"Nada Màs"! Veracruz was running now, desperately trying to get away. The voices were getting louder now, as more joined in at an increasing tempo. Unable to escape, Veracruz screamed incoherently at the cohort of dead following him. At this point all of the dead Lanceros were there surrounding Veracruz in an enclosing ring of animated corpses.

¿"Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí?" "¿Por què morí"? They had encircled him now. Out of places to run, with no respite as they gathered around him like a pack of hyenas going in for the kill, he fell to his knees at first.

¡"Cállate! ¡Nada Màs! ¡No puedo a tomar nada màs"! "Shut up! No more! I cant take any more"! At this point the chorus stopped, the shuffling feet that had enclosed him began to back off, leaving only a single pair of boots standing in front of a Veracruz who had that point nearly regressed to the fetal position.

¿"Por què morimos Arturo"? "Why did we die Arturo"? Veracruz recognized the voice instantly, only looking up to confirm what he believed. He had at on point been very close to the figure standing before him, before one fateful event had changed all that, damning Veracruz's soul to this place. His response was cold, his very heart having been ground into a pulp already.

¡"Pues claro... es tù! ¡Aquí a me torturas por eternidad Sopono"! "Of course... its you! Here to torture me for eternity I suppose"!

[Armellenia]

Descending into the tunnel, Hydra felt the walls close in around him. And for the firs time in a long while, he hesitated.

The steel walls were increasingly confining; he was no longer in control down here. The slightest move could send him careening into the sides at hundreds of miles per hour. It was no time to slip up, especially since three entire aircraft were inside of the tunnel.

AWACS marked several targets; there were no go-arounds, no retries. Every shot counted.

"Alright, Frostbite. I fire, then Lynx, you fire, then you Three, and thus we repeat until we're out of this tunnel. Careful where you're flying... and shooting."

Hydra fired his missile directly into the first target on his HUD; they were going too fast to note the classification, but it inherently contained quite a bit of oil.

The explosion threw debris and smoke into the tunnel, splattering all over Hydra's cockpit. His reduced visibility was a huge problem.

As far as he was concerned, though, he wasn't fit, as a pilot, for dying below sea level.

They raced through the tunnel against a horrifying backdrop of explosions, small arms fire and destroyed machinery. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Frostbite reached the entrance of the tunnel, shooting out into the open air at incredible speed.

The Reformation

Hydra had been rushed out of the briefing at its' conclusion by a flustered government official wearing a suit, tie and sunglasses.

Clearly, what went down at the numerous meetings with the Council had produced some less-than-transparent results.

"You know, you could have stood to leave your aircraft mostly undamaged after today's mission. There's an entire overhaul project along with our scheduled stuff thanks to that."

The government official did not look at Hydra, but stared ahead as they proceeded to the Hangar. The first thing that he had noticed was, well, the MiGs of Frostbite were under what the government called a "facelift," mostly consisting of the removal of high visibility roundels and the application of a two-tone black and dark grey paint.

The 66th had received far too much media attention; this led to the Armellenian government's "official" withdrawing of the squadron from the country to prevent further deaths.

However, the Armellenian government was leaving behind a "reconnaissance detachment," the pilots of which were under no danger due to their more stealth oriented task.

And guess what that detachment consisted of?

Three to four "reconnaissance" aircraft that were written down as "stealth planes" in the records.

But, as Hydra knew, Frostbite's task required anything but stealth.

They weren't to be called Frostbite anymore to avoid another media frenzy. They were, in the books, marked as the 23rd Special Activities Squadron "Sabretooth."

Hydra liked that name better, anyways.

[The LBP Union]

Mission 6:
Comona

---

Briefing Room - Matera - Morning
Packed again. It had been a few days. Things hadn't changed much on the map. Allied forces had been at a bit at a standstill as enemy forces were holding their own. There was also word of Eclipse fighters launching long ranged strikes on supply lines for the allied forces, which was slowing down the ISAF advance.

It felt a bit odd to Euphony, walking in and everyone smiling at him. This time though, they had a different look on them. It wasn't the idealized smile that he usually got after he shot down the Eclipse over the Round Table. This time it seemed to be a sort of maniacal grin, as if they were expecting something. It was like they knew something he didn't. He didn't like it. As he took his seat in the briefing room, someone tapped his shoulder from behind. He turned his head to see them.

"You're totally going to give those big shots a run for their money." The ISAF pilot chuckled, motioning to the entrance. Euphony turned around and saw four pilots at the house left entrance to the briefing room. They had different uniforms, which were decked out in a black, gray and white digital camouflage. Their patches on their shoulders all bore the same emblem, one which was all too familiar to Euphony. It depicted a set of black, white and navy blue wings with the Union emblem in the center of a triangle. It was the Union Task Force logo, the most elite special forces unit in the Union. Having the ground team work with them on the Avalon mission was one thing, but to have an air unit from the Task Force work with them, that was extremely rare. He could see the words Zircon scrawled below the emblem. If there were children in here, they would see these four men as heroes.

The ISAF pilots in the room began applauding and cheering. They had seen what the UTF air unit was capable of. During the Remnants Union wars, they had run some of the most successful airstrikes on key targets which were partly what ended the war. They had run countless anti-terrorist operations and had the best air to air performance of any air flight in the Union.

They carried themselves rather tall, yet they didn't smile. The look on the leader's face seemed to strike Euphony as the face of one who had seen the horror of war.

"Aren't you all supposed to clap after we kick ass?" He spoke suddenly with a grin.

So much for understanding the horror of war. Euphony frowned. He expected the most elite team to be a bit more humble. As far as he could tell at this point, they were just over-glorified pilots in high end planes. Anybody could rack up their kills with the planes they had pretty much.

The time came to start the briefing. Goodfellow stepped forward with a smile as the lights dimmed and the small stage was illuminated.

"We have some new faces today, especially the Union Task Force 8th Tactical Flight, Zircon Squadron. We've all heard great things about you. I'm sure you won't let us down." Goodfellow began. "Now, let's get to business. We have devised a plan to knock out the Visarian satellites without violating any space debris and/or armaments resolutions. However, we're going to need to launch a satellite of our own to do so. This satellite will fly close by in orbit near the Visarian satellites and zap their electronics with a laser without causing them to shatter into pieces, causing a huge orbital debris problem. This method will reduce the debris and will overall be very safe. Unfortunately, we think they might have caught onto us."

"We've moved the satellite to our Comona Aerospace Center in the Ionian Sea, around a small chain of islands. After tracking their satellites, we noticed that they were able to see that transit of the satellite due to the location of one of the satellites at the time. The launch must go underway, but we have been informed that the enemy has sent a large contingent of fighters to sabotage the launch of the satellite. You will fly to Comona and secure the launch at all costs. We must get this thing into orbit if we want to put an end to their remote piloting of those fighters. If we can take out those satellites, the Eclipse fighters will have to be manually piloted, which means that the g-forces able to be withstood by the pilot will be much lower, because the pilot will actually be in the plane's built in COFFIN cockpit and will be experiencing those g-forces. They will be a little easier to take down this way, because they will be less maneuverable."

"We've also received word that there will be some enemy landing forces on their way to try and take over the aerospace center. Our ground forces will deal with them, but they might need your help at some point. Overall, this is an air to air mission, so don't get too worried about the enemy sea forces. An ISAF fleet will be arriving to assist with surface to surface and surface to air defense, but they can't get there before the enemy fighter contingent does. Now, lets get a move on, people." Goodfellow concluded, and the room lit up again.

Reaper looked to Euphony and smirked.

"I could see how you were looking at those UTF big shots. You want to outdo them, don't you?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"But that pacifist thing is kicking in still ain't it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. You're somethin' special, buddy."

And that was that.

---

Afternoon - Approaching Comona Airbase

"Heading, vector one six zero. All units, you should have visual on Comona about now." Midnight Eye informed. Euphony took note of the large allied force they had sent here. Judging by how large their force, was, he could only imagine just how large the Visarian force was. They had several ISAF and allied squadrons operating. Nearby, Euphony could see a finger four formation of F-22A Raptor stealth fighters with urban camouflage and the UTF wings emblem. Yep, those were the big shots. This must have been an important mission if their kind of payroll was on this operation.

The islands looked fairly peaceful and tranquil. It looked like a nice vacation spot, aside from the glare Euphony kept getting from the acrylic cockpit of his F-16. He had done some more tuning on it in order to try and maximize its speed, which sacrificed a little of his maneuverability, but it wasn't that big of a deal. The thing was still good in a turn and he knew how to maneuver it better than anyone.

"Alright boys, looks like the fun's arrived. Vector zero niner zero." Midnight Eye informed. A mass of blips popped up on Euphony's radar.

"That's a hell of a crowd." Reaper exclaimed.

"All units, you are free to engage marked targets." Midnight Eye ordered. Euphony turned to face the enemy aircraft coming in from the East.

"Zircon, engaging." Came a voice from what Euphony was starting to call the thrust vector maniacs. Those F-15s were way too heavy to be dogfighting like this.

The blips on his screen were of a variety. There were some Mig-29s scattered about, F-18s, Mig-21s, Su-27s, a few Su-35s and other miscellaneous aircraft. It didn't matter to Euphony anymore. They were just numbers and letters. It was time to engage. He cranked on the afterburner and prepared to engage over the now shattered skies.

"Melody team, fencing."

[Post War America]

Matera, Two Days Before the Briefing

The bar in the Officer's Club of Matera Airbase was crowded now. Several squadrons had been transferred from Ramstien at this point, and from other places all over the Union, filling the place with Union bodies all shuffling about, mostly to and from the bar to collect their beverages of choice. Generally most people left after co getting their drinks though, flowing in an a perpetual cycle to the bar, getting drinks, and going back. Amidst this river of people sat a single rock in the form of a solitary man, Veracruz. He sat there, pounding back a shot of some clear beverage before gesturing to the bar keepers for another. He managed to keep some form of composure throughout the process, calmly downing drinks one at a time, a practice which he had been performing for a while now, since they opened the bar. Another sat down beside him, some nameless pilot, clearly just back from sortie by the looks of it, with his sweaty head, and greased up hair. He motioned lifted a finger, summoning the bartender, and placing an order. The anonymous pilot spoke to Veracruz.

"You're not Union, must be one of these Foreign Squadrons I keep hearing about". Veracruz nodded.

"I am, head of the unfortunate Lanceros". The bartender returned with a bottle of sour mash whiskey, and a shot glass. He poured some whiskey into the glass.

"Lanceros hm, I didn't think you guys did poorly though, I heard you guys got 13 kills between you. Its six better than what we got today man. I'm Captain Smythe from Sorcerer Squad by the way". He offered his hand, Veracruz ignored it.

"I lost one of my own on that sortie, to some pilot who it seems knew others in our force. Can't say I'm proud of that". Smythe laughed downing his whiskey before pouring another glass.

"Hey man, we all lose people, that's war". Veracruz finished his drink, ordering another before responding.

"I hate this trade. I hate the death, I hate not being able to get close to people". A bartender returned with another glass sweeping the empty one away.

"Then why don't you leave it"? Veracruz turned slightly red.

"Because sir, killing is the only thing I've ever done". Veracruz downed his drink, dropped money on the bar and walked away, leaving Smythe alone with his bottle.

That Night

Veracruz was back in the Grey lands, at a table with the one who spoke to him. Before both of them was some nondescript food. Veracruz did not eat, instead staring at the grey mass on his plate, unable to either eat, or look his counterpart in the eye. Veracruz's counterpart on the other hand was eating rather quickly, but still preserving some manner of table etiquette.

¿"Arturo por què no mirame?" "Arturo why won't you look at me?", the other asked in between bites. Veracruz continued to avoid both the food and the other.

"No se como a comer con los muertos." "I don't know how to dine with the dead.", he replied rather tersely. The other continued eating.

"Lo siento para su problema con migo. Pero yo tengo que a te contestar si acuerda los Cárpatos." "I'm sorry for you problem with me. But I was told to ask if you remember the Carpathians.", the other asked in a sympathetic tone, that may have had a hint of sarcasm.

"No". The other rose from his seat.

¡"Mente! ¡Yo se usted acuerda"! "You Lie! I know you remember"! Veracruz's voice shrank considerably as he spoke again.

"Esta correcto"."You're right". Veracruz was dejected as the grey land faded away and he found himself in the cockpit of his Typhoon, flying over the Balkans, on the tail of a Turkish Air Force jet over the Carpathians. They were engaged in a deadly dance among a massive fur ball that had erupted in the final days leading up to the formation of the Mandate, a massive free for all that was to decide the fate of the entire region. The freshly formed Lancero squadron had just arrived on the scene and was turning the tide of battle. They had been hired to keep the peace by the Union, and were succeeding. Veracruz unleashed a long burst of cannon fire ripping the Turkish Plane apart.

"Lancero One, splash one". The enemy craft were thinning now, as the addition of twenty new fighters to the fight was a major development. The Union peacekeepers were winning now.

"AWACS Seraph to allied squadrons, keep up the good work. We're almost there. Wait, WHAT‽ Warning to all allied craft, a large formation of boogies has appeared bearing 270, Break! As if one cue, a massive group of black Terminators appeared from below, having flown nap of the earth for maximum surprise. There were many, forty from Veracruz's best guess. The opened up on the Peacekeeping force, and the others alike, obliterating several craft on the first pass before the came into the fireball.

"This is Olympus Squadron we just lost half our guys what....". The allied pilot's question was cut short by a short, and accidental transmission from the enemy formation.

"Schwarz One to all Schwarz craft, this is an extermination. Kill all other pilots, we cannot have any obstacles to our plans today". On cue they entered the engagement, their prowess shocking friend and foe alike as they made short work of the exhausted peacekeepers and others, taking most of them down in moments. Several Lanceros were in that number as the 'Schwarz' planes cut them to ribbons. The AWACS interrupted this orchestra of death rather frantically.

"AWACS Seraph to all allied squadrons withdraw from combat air space. This operation is a bust". What was left of the peacekeeper forces began to break off from the combat as fast as their engines could carry them. Veracruz countermanded his squadron's retreat order.

"Lancero One to Lancero craft we will cover the retreat, hold these bastards off for as long as you can". These words rung in Veracruz's head as the Swcharz craft proceeded to shoot down more fighters.

"This is Lancero Fourteen, I've been hit. I'm ejecting". Veracruz looked off to his right to where Lancero Fourteen had once been seeing an ejection seat rocket out of the burning craft. However, the seat slammed against the burning wreckage of a Romanian MiG, the pilot likely dead. Veracruz cursed himself as he fell in behind a Terminator lining up on one his squadron mates, he attempted to shoot the Terminator down, but the pilot shook him off, blasting the craft in front of him, the pilot ejecting at the last second as the Tyhpoon exploded. Reports indicated that half of the Squadron was down at this point.


"Damnit, Lancero One to all Lancero aircraft, withdraw, we cannot keep fighting like this". Veracruz in issuing this order, failed to notice the missile alert as his plane took two to the engines. He ejected in an instant going from inside the aircraft to out in the open air hanging from a pair of pantyhose as the enemy mopped up. He managed to spot the other who had ejected, taking some pleasure from the fact that at least somebody survived these monsters. However, his hopes were dashed when a Terminator swooped around and cut the other pilot in half with a burst from the Terminator's cannon. Veracruz screamed helplessly into the cacophony.

---

The day before the Briefing

Veracruz stood outside his squadron's hangar. Evidently the ground crew had worked with exceptional speed working on the modifications that he had requested, and now the chief of the ground crew called him to the hangar to inspect their work. He wasn't waiting long before the chief groundy came out removing a pair of gloves that he had been working in. He approached Veracruz, a somewhat smug look concealed underneath his brow as he wiped sweat from it.

"We worked for two days straight on your little project". Veracruz was somewhat impatient.

"And"?

"And we finished, don't know how we pulled it off. Still the work is done on the upgrades".

"Good, good. Can I see"? The groundy started walking over to the hangar door.

"Well sir, we yanked the cabling system and rewired the thing to fly by light, and we replaced the engines. Overall we managed to increase the combat effectiveness of your bird by two hundred and fifty percent. That thing is going to be as effective as a Typhoon can be".

"Two hundred fifty eh, sounds expensive". The groundy chuckled.

"It is sir, very expensive, parts set us back quite a bit, and we had to put in damn near a thousand man hours into this thing. I had to take crews off other jobs to finish this. As a ballpark, I'd have to say the upgrade'll cost you twenty million". Veracruz was taken aback by this estimate.

"That much! Fine, you'll have your money, I'll wire it you tonight". The groundy continued.

"As for the cosmetic job, we just finished that". He opened the door. "See for yourself". Veracruz looked upon his Typhoon for a while before a slight smile crept across his face, as he nodded in approval.

"Very good, thank you Chief Hanlon".

"No problem, Captain". Veracruz walked off.

That Night

Veracruz was once again on the fields of Grey. This time however, he stood in a circle, surrounded by the dead, on the other side of the ring was the other. In Veracruz's hand, a blade identical to the one the other carried. The other addressed him.

"Arturo. Necessitas mirame si queries vivar." "Arturo, you'll need to look at me if you want to live." the other said taunting Veracruz. Veracruz couldn't bear to do it, look the other in the face. The other laughed.

"Pues En Garde". "Lay on then". The other charged, Veracruz instinctively managed to parry at the last second, avoiding a slash to the face. Veracruz suddenly found himself in the cockpit of a hornet, a craft he had not been in since this moment. He was flying over the Andalusian Plains, Madrid burning in the distance. They were locked into single combat, around them two small squadrons were similarly fighting each other. The two Hornet Squadrons duked it out for several seconds as Veracruz obliterated an enemy aircraft with a missile.

"Rey One to Rey Squadron, eliminate their flight lead, they should surrender without him". Veracruz swung his blade around attempting to hit the other, but the other dodged and lunged, his attack missing narrowly. Veracruz piloted his Hornet in behind another enemy craft, firing a pair of missiles straight into it, causing the craft to spin out as the pilot ejected.

"Mourning Dove to Rey One.", he said somewhat mournfully "No hacero facil para ti". I" won't make it easy for you". The other lunged again missing by slightly more. Veracruz parried and gave a decent slash on the other's arm in the riposte, all of this was done still without looking the other in the face. Rey One's Hornet managed to slide in behind Veracruz, but not before Veracruz managed to down another enemy aircraft. The squadron managed to kill the other enemy planes, taking a few causalities themselves. The other and Veracruz were both exhausted and wounded, but Veracruz had seen the better of he fight thus far. Veracruz and Rey One were locked in single combat, their aircraft uniquely matched, but Rey One was demoralized by the loss of his squadron, under performing. The two managed to go at it for quite some time before Veracruz inverted his craft staring down at the enemy pilot, who looked back at him with eyes marked by disappointment, and by sadness. He slipped behind and fired two missiles, obliterating the enemy aircraft. Veracruz made one last lunge, his sword going through the other. Veracruz looked at the other, seeing the same eyes he saw on the pilot over Andalusia. As the other spit up blood, Veracruz addressed the other, the mourning in his voice very apparent.

"Lo Siento. Carlos". "I'm sorry, Carlos'.

---

Matera, Afternoon of the Mission

The Lanceros, short one member gathered at the hangar. The ground crew opened up the hangar's main door. All three Typhoons had been repaired and refueled, however, one differed from the others. Veracruz's aircraft was painted black rather than the standard grey, the blue lines having a darker pairing than the other Lancero Aircraft. Galvez noticed that the nose had upon it a motif of a knight in full plate, wreathed in shadow, carrying a rotary cannon, riding a dove, an unusual pairing of a very militant symbol with that of the Mourning Dove. She also noticed the kill markings that as of yet never appeared, above the others. There were ten new markings, all of them were Spanish Air Force, not Iberan, Spanish, the last of which bore a crown. However, these marks seemed different, they were not to be worn with any measure of pride as the others were. Galvez could tell something was off about the Captain.

"Captain, what is this"?

"I just made some modification to my plane. Is that a problem"?

"Captain, those kill marks weren't there before".

"I'll talk to you about it later Galvez, but for now we should get started on the mission". At this point Moreno was already in his craft beginning pre-flight checks.

"Okay Captain, but I want an explanation the moment we get airborne". Veracruz was beginning to climb into his Typhoon.

"Fair enough". Galvez climbed into her craft. The rest of the pre-flight checks were completed in relative silence.

---

Comona

The flight to Comona was a long and silent affair, as Galvez had damn near forgotten to ask Veracruz. As the approached the launchpad for the SSTO, but a good ways before they had reached mission air space she remembered to ask.

¿"Captain, los simbolos? ¿Què significa los simbolos?" "Captain, the Symbols? What do the symbols mean"?, Galvez asked privately to Veracruz, over a direct comm.

¿"Què simbolos Galvez"? "What symbols Galvez"? Galvez was disappointed that Veracruz would continue to dodge the question. Especially when asked by someone who had flown with him for quite some time.

Arturo para jugar con migo". "Arturo stop toying with me".

"Bien. Si necessitas saber. Cumplè en la Segunda Guerra Civil de España"."Fine, if you must know, I served in the Second Spanish Civil War". Galvez still felt Veracruz was holding back.

¿"Y"? "And"?

"Y hiciste no orgulloso. Pero este es una historia para una otro tiempo". "And I did things I'm not proud of, but that's a story for another time". The character of his voice indicated that Veracruz was unwilling to speak about this further. Galvez layed off just in time for AWACS to call in.

"Heading, vector one six zero. All units, you should have visual on Comona about now". They had reached the island. It was beautiful but no out of the ordinary. It was in fact fairly typical of "tourist destinations" in the Union massive beaches, clear seas. Were it not for the massive space complex in the middle of the island it would be a tourist destination. Galvez noticed the high proportion of elite Union units, whatever this operation was it was big. They were clearly expecting a major fight. They found one moments later.

"Alright boys, looks like the fun's arrived. Vector zero niner zero." Veracruz followed up with an order of his own.

"Use standard missiles only, save the QAAMs for elite enemies if they show up". The Lanceros turned to engage the new contacts. When they saw the massive swarm of enemy fighters, Moreno said what Galvez was thinking.

"What the hell, where did these enemies come from"?

"All units, you are free to engage marked targets".

"Zircon, engaging".

"Melody team, fencing". Veracruz calmly issued another order as they turned to engage.

"Mourning Dove a Lancero Escadron. Si es possible disparan en los cabinas. ¡Es el tiempo envian los cabrónes de Visara directo al Inferno"!Mourning Dove to Lancero Squadron. If it is possible, shoot for the cockpit. Its time to send these Visaran bastards straight to hell"! The captain's orders caused distraught to Galvez. The deliver was callous and empty, something he'd not generally done before. Their very meaning contrary to his usual knightly tactics.

¿"Captain"?

"Mis ordenes no contestaran". My orders will not be questioned". The captain seemed deadly serious, there was something wrong with him.

"Sí Captain.", she responded as Lancero Squadron broke up and entered the fray.

[Armellenia]

Mission 6: Comona

Hydra hadn't seen his or his squadron's planes in days. As they woke up on the morning of the next mission, a man wearing a black baseball cap, sunglasses, and civvie clothing knocked on the barracks door.

"This is uh, Sabretooth, correct?"

"Frostbite Squadron, 66th TFS..."

The mysterious man leaned in the door and ripped Hydra's squadron logo off his jacket.

"No, Sabretooth. You're gonna need to remember that or the entire country's gonna have a rough time."

Something wasn't quite right.

"Get up. It's time to visit your redone aircraft."

As they walked to the hangar, the man gathered them together.

"There is one rule that is imperative. You are NOT 66th TFS. You are a... reconnaissance squadron. In all actuality, if there wasn't a media frenzy, you would be doing your work more... officially? Legally? Does that make sense?"

"So, what if someone recognizes our style, or voice, or something to that effect?" Lynx asked.

"If they're allied, you're fine for the most part. If it's an enemy squadron, make your best effort to..." The man paused, then stated carefully, "cover your tracks."

"Leave no trace..." Frostbite Three observed.

"You were never there. You were thousands of feet above, taking pictures. In fact, you weren't even you, it was Sabretooth Squadron."

"The perfect alibi!" Hydra almost grinned.

The entire group paused in awe. What stood before them were two MiG-31s and a MiG-21 adorned in a brilliant black and gray two-tone camoflague. The bottoms were adorned with anti-flash white, and the aircraft were identifiable only by small, low visibility Armellenian emblems.

Lynx broke the silence.

"I like it."

The man turned around, facing away from the aircraft.

"My name is Commander Ibrilovich, and I'm the director of special activities in the Armellenian Air Force. But I'm also not supposed to be here, so just call me Beacon. I'll be your... source of intelligence and a kind of second AWACS for you from now on."

He paused, staring into the distance.

"Hurry, you might miss the briefing."

Near Comona Airbase

Hydra's hands tensed up on the controls as AWACS mentioned the nearing of the battlezone.

The repeated modification to the Squadron's MiGs was getting ridiculous. Hydra's was pretty sure his engine belonged on a different aircraft. But it was no time for questioning that.

The blips multiplied on the HUD like flies in the summer. Run of the mill aircraft, as per usual.

"Sabretooth, uh, reporting in." Hydra said through the mic.

He hoped the rest would recognize him.

[The Lowlands and Saxony]

On the former Dutch airbase of Soesterberg, reporters stands talking among themselves and taking pictures of what is happening in the air above the airbase.

7 Dassault Alpha Jets are practicing combat maneuvers. They take turns in practicing ground attack and dogfights. This group of fighters are known as The Buzzards from Dent Tactical inc.

Dent Tactical is a PMC or Private Militairy Contractor specialized in strike operations such as gaining air superiority as a support squadron or ground attack, eliminating anti-air and tactical targets. The company is very transparent in it's operations as it openly advertises that they "Carry out operations a nation's airforce shouldn't". This implies clandestine operations that invades airspace or uses normally forbidden weaponry such as napalm and clusterbombs. "If you pay, we may (do that)" Is the motto and official slogan of Dent Tactical inc.

The fleet of Dent Tactical comprises of 10 Harrier II GR9a VTOL strike aircraft, of which 3 are as reserves and one AC-235 light gunship. The AC-235 is based on the CASA twin engined turboprop transport plane build by the Spanish government and Airbus. The AC-235 is equipped with a 30mm autocannon and pylons for hellfire and 70mm missiles. The Dassault Aplha jets are for training and air shows.

The reporters are gathered for a press conference about the takeover of Dent Tactial by a similar "plane for hire" company called Lancero Volares Sin Fronteras or VSF. The CEO of Dent Tactical has been offered a deal with a big sum of money and other benefits such as being able to use their facilities and maintenance crews. Patiently the press waits for the practice to be over.

One by one the planes land on the airfield and part next to eachother. The first one to step out is Arthur Dent, CEO and squadron leader of Dent Tactial's Buzzards. His call sign is Buzzard 1-1. Reporters are rushing towards him to bombard him with questions.

"Mr. Dent, how are you feeling about this business deal?" Is the first question that is asked in a understandable way throughout all the shouting.

"I see this as a opportunity to venture to new places and to make business happen in places where a nation's air force wouldn't dare to go" Is how he answers in his distinct and slightly posh British accent.
Arthur Dent has always been a capitalist and a philanthropist, a RAF pilot who chose to invest after his squadron got disbanded due to budget cuts. This takeover only earns him more money then he could have gained with his current market position. It was better to be friends with the market leader then to compete with them.

"Will you be keeping your current fleet or are you switching to VSF's Typhoons?"

"I intend to keep my fleet as it is, in this way supporting Lancero Volares Sin Fronteras with diversity in roles. You can imagine that they will keep the skies clean while we do the ground work of ridding the enemy of anti air and other tactical targets"

"Will you still be using "forbidden weapons when the merge is completed?"
A moment of silence ensues. Weapons like napalm and cluster bombs have become a touchy subject since the Gulf war and many nations forbid themselves from using them. The reporters stay still as they wait for a reply.

"This is not clear yet" Arthur answers. "Although we never had a problem with deploying indiscriminate arms such as napalm, we still have to discuss this with VSF as their policy on this matter is not clear yet. I will come back on that when more information becomes available"

"And where is Patrick O' Suillivan?" A reporter asks.
Patrick O' Suillivan is Arthur's right hand in the company. This thorough blood Scot also is the pilot and maintenance chief of the AC-235. Currently he is in the hanger doing such maintenance and applying necessary changes to prevent the autocannon from jamming up. Patrick is very temperamental and doesn't see need to attend the "media circus". He much rather spends his time "Wee Hammer", call sign Hammer and it's crew then with those "Sir ask-a-lots" who interrogate Arthur.

"O' Sullivan is otherwise preoccupied at the moment. I say on his behalf that he too is looking forward to what the future might bring. That will be all gentlemen so if you'll excuse me.."

Arthur and the other Harrier pilots walk towards the hangar/office complex, making a way trough the crowd of reporters.

"Now all we can do is wait for our first assignment" Arthur says to the other pilots.

[The LBP Union]

While granted a boost in speed, Euphony's F-16 felt a bit sluggish in the drawn out skies of Comona. The distances between enemy fighters was very large, meaning he had to fly long distances to find new foes. By the time he came into firing range however, it was too late. Somebody else had nailed the target before him. The faster Zircon pilots in their Raptors were much faster hunters than he was. Reaper's Typhoon was still faster than Euphony's Falcon, thus he was able to rack up more targets.

"Gotta keep up, kiddo." Reaper joked.

"Conserving fuel." Euphony called out eventually. It was a waste to keep his afterburner cranked on for this long.

So far, Euphony had racked up zero kills. It was a bit comforting that he didn't need to kill anyone in order for this mission to be a success.

Not that focused on the enemy fighters anymore, Euphony noticed a large spray of water in the distance. Rising out of the ocean blue was what appeared to be some kind of missile, slowly gaining acceleration as it rose into the air.

"I've got eyes on a-" Euphony began.

"Enemy missile spotted! It looks like it came from a submarine!" Midnight Eye interrupted Euphony.

Euphony adjusted the maneuvering of his plane to watch the missile soar overhead as it flew above them. There weren't many clouds today, just some high wispy cirrus clouds near his operational ceiling. To his surprise, the missile seemed to pop and split into several tiny fragments. The orange glow from its engine that he could see from this position disappeared. The fragments seemed to fall and then there were several bright flashes. Euphony had to turn away to avoid the bright glare. There were several screams over the radio. He felt his plane shake from the shockwaves of the explosions. He must have narrowly avoided the blasts.

"Omicron one, three and four are down! My plane is heavily damaged! Proceeding to egress!" Came a frantic cry.

"What the hell? Was that Stonehenge?" Reaper shouted.

"I thought we took that thing out!?" Another pilot panicked.

"All units! We are engaged with a hostile submarine equipped with burst missiles carrying the same payload as the shells used by Stonehenge. We have little way of engaging the submarine while it is submerged. Standby." Midnight Eye explained.

"You mean we can't kill that thing?!" Another pilot exclaimed.

"Uhh, we just got word that the Union fleet will be within anti-submarine warfare range in about fifteen minutes. We will need to hold out until then." Midnight Eye informed.

Fifteen minutes. That was a hell of a long time.

"This is Comona Aerospace Center to Midnight Eye. We are halting the launch of the satellite until you can ensure us that the rocket will not be shot down mid launch. Defense of this facility is also imperative." Came a civil request over the airwaves.

"Understood. All units, prioritize the defense of the Aerospace Center. Just weave through the missiles and continue to engage."

"Is there any way we can force the submarine to surface so we can attack it?" Euphony asked.

"Negative, we'd need to damage its systems somehow in order for that to happen, which we can't without anti submarine weapons." Midnight Eye explained.

Another missile emerged from the water. Euphony felt a bit confused as to what to do at this point. These burst weapons were very unpredictable.

"All units, since we took out Stonehenge we've come prepared with detection of the blast radii of the burst missiles that will show up on your radar. Avoid the predicted danger zone on your radar to survive. Try to avoid it at all altitudes, or else you may take fragmentary damage. Evade!" Midnight Eye ordered as the missile reached its split stage. Euphony noted several orange circles on his radar, and heard an alarm as he found that he was inside one. He raced out of it just in time, escaping an inferno behind him. Had he not known where it was, he would have been toast.

The allied pilots did a better job at evading the burst weapons this time, as they now understood where they were most likely to be. However, this made mopping up the remaining enemy air units a bit slower as the allied forces were focused on surviving the onslaught of the submarine. There were several rounds of burst missiles to deal with, but the allied pilots dealt with them well.

"This is Commander Harris. Within ASROC range. Opening fire." Came a radio call some time later. The ISAF fleet was a little late.

The fleet was moderately sized, yet seemed well equipped for the job. A missile launched out from one of the cruisers and skimmed the surface of the water until it reached a certain point in the open sea and it seemed to drop into the water, disappearing. There was a large explosion of water that splashed into the air soon thereafter, and a long shadow seemed to form a bit later.

"Confirmed hit on the submarine. Looks like they're being forced to rise." Commander Harris from the ISAF fleet reported.

"All units, clear to engage when capable." Midnight Eye ordered. Euphony descended and found himself next to Reaper in the descent.

"Let's finish this thing." Reaper chuckled. Euphony saw the shadow get bigger and bigger until finally there was a large splash from the surfacing of the submarine. The vehicle was enormous for a submarine, and very long.

"Zircon team, go in for the kill." Came the UTF flight lead. The cockiness in his voice irked Euphony, and he cranked up his afterburner.

Allied planes were converging on the abnormally large submarine when suddenly, right before they were in firing range, all around them there were the orange circle alerts on their radar.

"All units! Pull up or you'll get caught in the blast!" Midnight Eye ordered. Euphony instinctively yanked the stick into his stomach and nearly broke the G-limit of his F-16. If it hadn't been a bit reinforced, the aircraft would have torn itself apart. A few allied pilots were caught in the blast and were killed instantly.

"Euphony! You out?!" Reaper checked.

It took Euphony a moment to reorient as his vision cleared up after darkening. "Yeah, I'm fine." He stammered, shaking in shock. He continued to climb and inverted his aircraft towards the surface of the Mediterranean, preparing to dive bomb the submarine with guns and missiles. He fired two missiles and filled it with many rounds of his gun before pulling away, noticing that the submarine had actually opened up gunfire from anti air guns. To his dismay, the submarine was fairly armored.

"It's going to take more than that. Hit it with everything you've got." Reaper encouraged. Anti ship missiles from the ISAF fleet assisted and dealt more damage than the fighters could. Another missile fired from the submarine, however this time it flew towards the ISAF fleet, splitting into fragments over the contingent.

"Dammit! Open up CIWS!" Commander Harris ordered. Euphony witnessed the burst missile lay turn the ISAF fleet into a series of bright flashes. As the flashes disappeared, many ships left were smoking and heavily damaged. They wouldn't be helping any time soon.

"Looks like it's up to us." Euphony mused, turning his F-16 to attack the submarine once more.

[Anowa]

The Allied States of Anowa will be located in: Sicily, Sardegna, Corsica, and Tunisia.

Sigonella Airbase, State of Sicily, Allied States of Anowa.

The pilots of Empire Squadron -a team of four planes- sat in their captain's quarters, contemplating what was soon to happen, and no matter how they thought of it, it always ended with an offensive against their country. For less than three hours ago, The Allied States of Anowa declared war against the Independant State Allied Forces, or ISAF for short. Their country had joined sides with the Visarian Mandate.

This news was not something everyone on the team was happy about, most specifically the teams youngest member, Allen Cross AKA Empire-4 or Goose.

"This is bullshit! Why are we fighting with those fascist fucks!?" Cross exclaimed after some time of silence. His question was one a good amount of servicemen and women were wondering right about now.

Anna Grey, Empire's second responded, "Probably because they offered us something, and since our economy hasn't been doing too well for the last several years I'm assuming we joined up with them only so we can get what we want, and then we'll pull a heel-face turn."

Aleksander Durkov, an immigrant from eastern Europe and a relatively recent conscript chuckled, "If we switch sides I'll eat my flight helmet." He turned to the flight's lead, "What're your thoughts on this Cap?"

Captain Kowalski, for his part stayed quiet, contemplating what could be exchanged between the two factions for it to be mutually beneficial. The Tunisian state had plenty of uranium mines, and in turn they had quite a few nuclear weapons so the Mandate may be after that in exchange for a monetary boost to our economy. Which made it more confusing as to why their government had sided with who they did, or even sided with anyone at all, we could've stayed neutral throughout the war, no one would've bothered us out of fear of being nuked, and the aftermath of the war would've meant we would be an economical giant.

"I don't know, but something's up. I have a few suspicions though. Also Cross?" The young man looked at the Captain, "Don't say stuff like that in front of the brass, you'll end up missing." Cross gulped.

Kowalski checked his watch and frowned, "The maintenance crews should be done checking over our craft, we should be ready to scramble, so suit up and meet at our hangar." He strode out of the room, having already had his G suit on and ready. A few meters of walking and he pushed open the door to the warm air of the Sicilian atmosphere. Kowalski took in the scene of relative peace, seeing as it was most likely going to be his last. Turning to his left he walked quite a ways to his team's hangar. Within were four F-15Cs including his own.

Kowalski's eyes took on a certain sheen upon seeing the craft. Supposedly the story was -if you ever managed to get it out of him- was that during his first deployment his plane suffered heavy damage to the fore end, and he didn't notice the extent of the damage until he 'landed' without a front gear. Upon exiting the craft he exclaimed "That if he knew it was that damaged I would've punched out." Or so the story went, some suspected it was just a fancy paint job, some suspected it was something more. Either way, his eyes spoke of something.

The rest of the team trickled in, and boarded their respective craft, all ready for the inevitable scramble notice.

[Post War America]

Comona

As the enemy craft came within Galvez's range she began to pop off missiles in the direction of the enemy fighters. A couple of planes were downed on the first pass. As the initial pass was completed she wheeled around looking for new targets to engage. She took note of the two burning craft exploding on the ground. Two more lives extinguished, two more families that would mourn the loss of one of their youths cut down in their prime. As she cut back on the throttle to pull a high G turn she scanned the skies for more targets, more souls to reap.

"Sidewinder splash one". Off to the right she could see a Typhoon decked out like hers as it walked through the smoke trail caused by a MiG 29 spiraling down, a parachute appearing out of the craft as the pilot bailed out moments before the MiG exploded. In front of her, one of those Elite Union squads, the new arrivals put a pair of missiles into the tail of a MiG 29, and shot another out of the sky with the cannon. To her left, a pair of hornets were coming in an attempt to sting Galvez in the ass. The approached at high speed sloppily firing missiles which she weaved clear of without much effort. The problem was that there were two hornets now at her nine o'clock. She dropped her plane out, causing the hornets to overshoot. Taking that chance she made a tight turn and blasted both of them in a matter of seconds.

"Macarena splash two". Unfortunately for Galvez, in her attack on the Hornets, she had exposed her six to a bandit, who kindly announced their presence with missile, and its accompanying alert. She weaved and twisted, but the missiles stayed on her, and as she checked back it appeared the bandit did as well, sending the occasional tracer past her cockpit. The enemy stayed on her hard, making evasion of the missiles nigh impossible, and the constant wail of the alarm indicated that the enemy pilot was keeping up the missile fire, obviously wanting her out of commission. Suddenly the contact dropped off her IFF, as a friendly fighter killed it.

"Mourning Dove, splash one Flanker". Veracruz passed Galvez by at close distance, allowing her another glance at his pitch black Typhoon with the symbol of a Knight wreathed in shadow emblazoned on the nose. The very image of it, combined with Veracruz's unnatural, robotic flying as he engaged a target in front of them, putting several cannon rounds into the cockpit of a fishbed smearing it red, all of it was extremely unnerving. There was something clearly wrong with the Captain, and he was unwilling to share exactly what the problem was. To see this mechanical flying, and the callous, and uncharacteristically barbaric tactic, all of it was off. Veracruz yanked up and out of Galvez's sight ignoring another Fishbed that was presenting its rear to Galvez who unthinkingly removed it from the sky.

Another thing wasn't adding up, these pilots were either not trying, or extremely incompetent. Something was wrong. There was, quite simply no way in hell that they Visarans were sending these dregs against the one place that had a way of taking away some of their shiniest toys without some kind of ace in the hole. She was still puzzling this over when the first missile hit. The blast shook her plane violently, rocking her out of contemplation as several dozen IFF signatures disappeared from her screen, accompanied by many pained screams.

"What the hell was that?", one Union pilot exclaimed over the comm.

"Omicron one, three and four are down! My plane is heavily damaged! Proceeding to egress"! Whatever the hell that was, it happened for real. The major loss of contacts was not an error. This was real.

"What the hell? Was that Stonehenge?"

"I thought we took that thing out!?"

"All units! We are engaged with a hostile submarine equipped with burst missiles carrying the same payload as the shells used by Stonehenge. We have little way of engaging the submarine while it is submerged. Standby."

"You mean we can't kill that thing?!" For the first time since they had started operating in this conflict, Galvez heard the AWACS having trouble with words.

"Uhh, we just got word that the Union fleet will be within anti-submarine warfare range in about fifteen minutes. We will need to hold out until then."

Fifteen minutes, that was madness. Those burst missiles, whatever the hell they were, were ludicrously potent. If the Visarans had even an inkling where the allied forces were, in fifteen minutes they'd all be dead.

"This is Comona Aerospace Center to Midnight Eye. We are halting the launch of the satellite until you can ensure us that the rocket will not be shot down mid launch. Defense of this facility is also imperative". The civilians were in clear and present trouble, meaning that holding out was something that had to be done. AWACS confirmed this shitty position.

"Understood. All units, prioritize the defense of the Aerospace Center. Just weave through the missiles and continue to engage." Moreno, obviously, and probably correctly questioned this order.

"Oh yeah, just weave through the missiles! What are you Nuts"‽ The Union pilot, Euphony, was more measured in his response.

"Is there any way we can force the submarine to surface so we can attack it?" The AWACS responded in the negative.

"Negative, we'd need to damage its systems somehow in order for that to happen, which we can't without anti submarine weapons." Another burst missile appeared out of the water, indicating another imminent impact. Fortunately the AWACS was prepared to combat this bit in some way.

"All units, since we took out Stonehenge we've come prepared with detection of the blast radii of the burst missiles that will show up on your radar. Avoid the predicted danger zone on your radar to survive. Try to avoid it at all altitudes, or else you may take fragmentary damage. Evade!" Galvez was within one of the blast markers, pulling out moments before the impact, the explosion shaking her plane more.

"Burst missiles, how many murderous toys do these bastards have"? As the Visarans had been somewhat indiscriminate with their attacks, they had wiped out most of their surviving fighters along with allied forces, proving to Galvez two things. That the missiles were the main attack, making the fighters largely chaff for the allies to exhaust themselves on, and that it was now time to engage the enemy armored vehicles that had at this point only been lightly engaged. She turned to do so, obliterating two of what she assumed were BMDs, racing past the forming smoke cloud that rose out of a burning vehicle.

The situation was chaotic on the ground, several BMDs and Stingrays advanced towards the base, dismounted infantry straggling behind them trying to stay out of the fire from Union forces that were defending bunkers around the SSTO facility. Every now and again a missile would streak down from above, destroying a bunker, or a tank, sending the nearby infantry scattering away, getting cut to pieces by machine gun fire. Less often, one of those burst missiles would fire, destroying broad swaths of the field. Galvez was careful to avoid each shot, but several pilots were not, and payed for it with wrecked craft and ended lives. It was an oddly quiet time, over the comm at least, nobody was speaking. Aside from the sound of explosions, above and below, it was quiet enough for Galvez to hear the piece that she had playing on the small audio player strapped to her g suit. In a short amount of perceived time, Galvez noticed a fleet approaching the waters off of the facility.

"This is Commander Harris. Within ASROC range. Opening fire". The fleet was seemed to be comprised mostly of vessels specifically equipped to deal with submerged threats, at least from a cursory examination from Galvez. From one of the larger vessels a missile streaked, before dropping below. Shortly afterwards a mass of water erupted from the surface, and a dark shadow appeared just below the surface.

"Confirmed hit on the submarine. Looks like they're being forced to rise". One of the Union pilots responded to the news.

"Let's finish this thing". The Visaran submarine rose to the surface like some kind of mythical Leviathan, accompanied by a massive explosion of water. The construct was enormous, more the size of an aircraft than any sort of rational submarine. It was something that was highly evocative of the typical Visaran war plan, namely ridiculous super weapons and absurd, suicidal tactics over rational strategy. The hubristic Zircon leader had to issue squad orders over the entire force comm, with an obvious arrogant tone as he did.

"Zircon team, go in for the kill". Galvez had a hard time dealing with this. These pilots were too arrogant, too cocky to be proper elite pilots. They had appeared to believe themselves invincible. The sudden appearance of an orange indicator over the submarine came as an enormous shock to Galvez who believed that the Anti-sub missile had removed their ability to fire the damn things.

"All units! Pull up or you'll get caught in the blast"! Galvez pulled up at a sharp angle, also banking out of the circle, killing her air speed.

"Avance! Avance!" "Come On! Come On!", she said hoping to escape the blast. The plane shook violently as the missile went off, but the craft's not falling apart indicated that she had made it. The disappearing contacts and the screams over comm indicated that others were not so lucky. Veracruz spoke over squad comm.

"Ustedes bien"? "Is everyone okay"? Moreno responded first.

"Estoy bien... un poco. Mis controles son arruinado pero mi avion debe aún volar". "I'm fine, my controls are shot up, but my plane should still fly. Galvez took stock over her craft and herself before responding herself.

"Estoy bien. ¿y tu"? "I'm alright, how about you"? There was a short pause.

"Mi avion esta bien". "My plane's fine". Veracruz knew Galvez wasn't just asking about the plane, but he dodged the question again anyway. Galvez was vexed by this but didn't have the time to challenge him. In front of them was a massive enemy unit, and it needed to be removed.

¡"Dispara todo al submarino"! "Put everything you have into that submarine"! Verecruz ordered as he went down to engage it. Galvez followed launching a pair of missiles into the thing blowing small holes into it, but causing no real damage. The ship's integral defenses kicked in engaging the remaining allied fighters. A mass of Anti-shipping missiles slammed into the side of the submarine creating bigger holes in it. A missile streaked from the submarine, Galvez looked at her IFF instinctively but there was no orange over the submarine. That meant...

"Dammit! Open up CIWS!", the ISAF fleet commander ordered, but it was too late. A bright explosion blossomed over the fleet, and in a flash it was gone. Most of the fleet was sinking or heavily damaged. It appeared that they would no longer be getting help from the fleet.

¡"Nada màs! ¡Nada màs! ¡Matan los cabrònes"! "No more! No more! Kill the bastards"!

[Anowa]

Sigonella Airbase, State of Sicily, Allied States of Anowa.

Captain Kowalski sat in his office within the airbase's singular AC cooled barracks it was known by the others on base as the command barracks, he was currently drinking from a bottle of Mt. Gay Rum. This was in response to the news he had recently received: the good part was that his squadron was going to be bolstered to full strength, and that he had gotten promoted to Major. The bad part? Every pilot transferred under his command was an Airman First Class, AKA fresh out of flight school AKA so green that bees wouldn't be able to see them. A part of the Captain turned Major was secretly hoping the world turned on it's head and everyone in ISAF turned into a bee just so he didn't have to worry about fourteen nuggets crashing into the ground at mach speeds.

The nuggets weren't the only new arrivals at the base, a full squadron of twelve A-10s and more than a few C-130s and a few gunships had nicely stopped by for a refuel and maintenance check before heading up to Solenzara for something. Odds are the brass decided they were gonna chance something near France, what they were planning he had no clue, but he had his current orders, although he didn't like them he still had a job to do.

From outside the office door Kowalski heard a bit of commotion about volume. Deciding to investigate the source of the disturbance the officer stepped out of his office and turned to his left to see a good amount of people gathered around the average sized TV set in the Barracks' lounge, striding towards the collection of familiar and foreign faces he noticed what they were all looking at, King Descius was giving a speech:

In this grave day, perhaps the most fateful in our nation's history, I send to every household of my peoples, both at home in Tunisia, and overseas on the islands of the Mediterranean, this message, spoken with the same depth of feeling for each one of you as if I were able to cross into your threshold and speak to you in the same flesh and blood appearance as you experience your loved ones.

For nearly all of us, this is the third time in our lives, in which we experience war.

We have tried again and again to seek alternatives to this matter, to seek out different approaches to avoid conflict with those we once called allies. But we could find none.

In order to retrieve what was once lost, and deliver liberty and justice for all mankind, we must wage war. It is to this bloody purpose that I call out to this nation's peoples both in the sands of Tunisia to the tropical islands across the seas, to make this cause your own, just as you did when we defended our allies across the seas. And just as you did when you stood for the rights of this country's people. I ask you all to stand tall and unwavering in this time of unyielding trial, I ask you to stand shoulder to shoulder with your brothers and sisters in arms to stave off the waves of assault from our home; and push back with the intent to protect your fellow man.

If every one of you remains faithful to this cause, we will not fail. May good fortune come to us all, and may God smile upon us.

The speech was over, and Kowalski felt no more bolstered, the inexperienced ones around him drowned over his indifference with their excitement and willpower. Kowlaksi resented them, and in a way envied them. They didn't experience the fighting when Anowa lost south Italy, they didn't know what war was like, nor did they know what it was like to hear that your home was signed over to appease greedy politicians. But Kowalski didn't blame them, at the beginning of that war the veterans of the civil war probably thought the same of him. The Major chuckled at the thought of how cyclical the world was. He just hoped their Good King knew what he was doing.

[The Lowlands and Saxony]

As the sky is filled in the massive furball, something rather unexpected occurs. The fighters attacking the submarine see three new aircraft on their IFF but will see them marked as friendly. A small squadron enters the operational area and nobody knows who it is.

And there they fly: A AC-235 light gunship accompanied by 2 Harrier II GR9a's. This is nobody else then Patrick "Flying Scotsman" O'Suillivan from the former PMC Dent Tactical inc. Arthur Dent himself and the rest of the squadron have done their transit to Matrera where their merger with Lancero Volares Sin Fronteras will be finalized. Arthur has entrusted Patrick to aid in the anti-submarine warfare as soon as they heard about it on comms.

"Right Lads, let's sound the music and lay this buggar on the bottom of this sea!" And thus the music of bagpipes roars through the speakers as they approached the submarine. Since neither friend nor enemy expected their arrival, Patrick had no resistance whatsoever, having the element of surprise.

The AC-235 trained it's 30mm autocannon at the vessel, ready to fire when it surfaces while the Harriers give cover with Sidewinder missiles.

As soon as the submarine comes to surface the music comes difficult to hear as the autocannon unleashes it's fury.

"Shoot that wee bastard!" Patrick exclaimed at the guncrew as he fires a Hellfire missile for one of the hatches, intending to blow the hatch off and therefore making the sub unable to dive again without taking on water.

Patrick gets on the comms and says with a smile and the bagpipe music on the background "Good morning laddies, I heard you needed some help with this so allow me and my "Wee Hammer" to lend a hand." He chuckles "Call me Braveheart if you need a callsign"

[Armellenia]

Rolling to engage another fighter, Hydra streaked across the sky, the dark paint on his aircraft revealing little about its intentions or nationality.

The hunting was easy.
Too easy.

The radio was, as per usual, featuring standard radio chatter. Hydra would have probably been contributing to it. The mysterious man who had taken into his hands the reformation of Frostbite had, however, warned them otherwise.

"Uh, Beacon here. If it's regular radio chatter about combat, don't add to it. You're technically a reconnaissance group, so act like one. Other than that, just keep on the side of caution and-"

He cut out. The radio wasn't silent. But something was wrong.

"Beacon to Sabretooth, dive immediately! Get away from that blast zone!"

Hydra frantically searched the skies for this blast zone.

A pencil-shaped leviathan of a missile shot up from the waves, its source unknown.

That was all it took. Throwing his MiG into a steep Immelmann turn from the days of old, he raced to the lowest altitude possible.

The following explosion seemed to shake the entire atmosphere. Hydra's MiG was buffeted by the shockwave.

Hesitatingly breaking the standard of radio silence, Hydra questioned through his helmet, "Sabretooth One here, is everyone okay?"
"Two, okay."
"Three... minor cuts and bruises."

"Sabretooth, proceed to the launch site of that missile with caution... it's an enemy sub."

"Acknowledged, Beacon. Who the hell would bring a sub to an instance of aerial combat?"

"Cut the chatter. Diverting you to AWACS for further instructions."

Hydra regrouped with his three squadron mates. Together, they raced towards the submarine. Another series of explosions rocked the sky. Orbiting just outside of the general area of the explosions, Sabretooth was taking little to light damage from the sub.

Following the announcement of the sub's forced surfacing, Hydra positioned his MiG directly in the path of the submarine.

He hoped his meager weapons would do something. This was a pretty sizable sub.

[The LBP Union]

Allied teams were hitting the submarine just fine, although were a bit slowed down by the anti air weapons the behemoth carried. It was defending itself rather well at this point, and Euphony was only able to get one more pass before the next turn of events came about.

"All units, looks like the enemy sub is preparing to submerge again. You have to destroy it now. The Union fleet has been forced to retreat." Midnight Eye ordered.

Euphony could nearly hear the collective gasp from the pilots on his radio channel. He climbed with full afterburner for a few seconds, and then flipped and pulled down, angling himself perpendicular to the ground as he plummeted, engaging his spoiler and flaps while idling the engine. To his surprise he found himself right next to a F-22 Raptor using the same tactic to engage the submarine.

"Not bad, kid. The drop-out taught you well." The elite pilot chuckled.

"Beat him to the finish, Euphony!" Reaper growled. What was that all about? Euphony sped up a bit to give his guns a shorter distance to travel than the allied raptor and fired both his standard missiles as well as two QAAMs, which he had to aim much more carefully due to their inability to lock on to the submarine. All the while, his finger lay pressed on the trigger, firing his guns.

Their attack, combined with a rather unexpected attack from a nearby allied gunship, the submarine exploded suddenly in a flash of light, and Euphony pulled up, barely escaping the inferno, as he was closer than the Zircon pilot behind him. He could feel a sort of rhythm of vibrations around him, however he couldn't determine its source. It was systematic, sort of like music. The cockpit was a buffer between him and the sounds of the battle outside.

"Hey, good lineup, Zircon 1." An ISAF pilot congratulated.

"...hnng..." Came a quiet growl. Was that the pilot Euphony just passed?

"Ha! I saw that!" Reaper laughed, pulling up alongside Euphony, allowing him to lead the formation. Was Euphony the one who landed the last shot? Nobody would know. That was subjective in the heat of the moment. The gunship he eyed nearby must have contributed the most due to the firepower. What was the big deal? They turned to look at the burning wreck of the submarine, which had split into two halves before beginning to sink.

"Comona, you are all clear for launch." Midnight Eye ordered.

"Affirmative, beginning launch in five...four...three...two...on-"

"Hold it!" Midnight Eye interrupted, but it was too late.

"What was that? AWACS, we have lift off." The Aerospace Center replied. Euphony picked up a small blip on his radar and turned to see a rocket accelerating into the sky from one of the islands nearby. The blip was the rocket. His eyes searched the sky to try and figure out what was going on.

A blue streak whizzed past nearby at an arcane velocity. Euphony turned to face the familiar image, surprised that it hadn't shown up on radar before. It was on his radar now, and must have been at sea skimming altitude to avoid detection. His velocity indicator showed it as moving at insane speeds and accelerating. It must have been going nearly hypersonic at this point. It crossed paths with the rocket that came up from Comona, and the rocket suddenly exploded in the distance.

"Launch unsuccessful! I repeat, launch unsuccessful!" Came a frantic call from the aerospace center.

"No!" Came a shout from one of the ISAF pilots. "How are we going to stop these damn superfighters now?"

"Just have Melody 2 take it out like last time!" Came another.

"Yeah! Euphony!" Another cheered.

Euphony tried to find a way to hide, but that would be a rather pointless notion to act on in the clear open skies.

"Wait, that's the one who shot down the Eclipse over the Round Table?" One of the Zircon elites exclaimed. "No way he could have done that in that Falcon. Leave this one to us."

Euphony didn't like their attitude. He noticed the advanced superfighter before him turn and face them. It was preparing to engage. Those stuck up pilots did have a point though. He didn't shoot that one down in a Falcon. He felt much more comfortable in his F-16 however, and knew how to use its abilities to his advantage. The Typhoon was more unfamiliar to him at that time. Hopefully he could take control of the situation and hold his own.

"Melody 2, fencing." He called out, and noticed as the merge neared that the Eclipse no longer had white pods along its sides, but red ones. Were these new?

Just before the merge, he saw lights flash from the pods and his plane shook as if taking damage, and he broke to avoid further damage. Jinking to avoid anything further, he looked to his left and right to try and analyze the damage, only to find that his wings had black scorch marks and alarms were warning him of other damage. The merge hit and they turned into one another.

"Melody 2! Get out of that turning fight, the bandit has upgraded laser pods! They aren't just for missile interception anymore!" Midnight Eye ordered, and Euphony disengaged with a split S and burned away, observing the formed up Zircon team all fire missiles in the direction of the bandit. Whipping his head around to watch the result, the Eclipse's pods intercepted all of them with its lasers, and did so much quicker than the white pods had done. These were certainly more effective. He watched as the lasers swept in various directions, trying to take swipes at the allied fighters. Panic ensued as most of the allied forces were trying to engage in a close ranged fight, yet found themselves vulnerable to a very difficult attack to escape. He watched one of the ISAF plane's wing get sawed into two pieces by one of the lasers, which concentrated on it longer as the plane wasn't moving fast enough to evade. The F-18 tumbled, and just before hitting the ocean floor, the pilot managed to bail out. However, the plane was facing the water at the time, and the pilot's seat rocketed out of the cockpit, smashing the seat into the sea with such force that Euphony doubted that the pilot survived impact. If he did, he wouldn't have survived the massive machine that soon barreled down on top of him from above.

The lasers cut out for a moment, and several allied missiles flew past the Eclipse harmlessly, yet they went by unintercepted. They came close enough to be shot down by the pod lasers.

"The lasers...they stopped." He pointed out. He fired both his QAAMs at the bandit, hoping the opening would allow him to score hits. Unfortunately, the lasers kicked back on again and forced both of his missiles to explode on impact.

"All units, the QX-T's lasers will cut out after extensive use in order to recharge. Wait for the lasers to recharge, then strike the Eclipse!" Midnight Eye explained.

"Roger, roger! Let's finish this bastard, rookie!" Reaper shouted.

"Sorry, Melody Team, but this one's ours." The Zircon leader declared.

"This isn't a competition!" Euphony exclaimed, aggravated. He maneuvered his aircraft to avoid a cluster of eight missiles launched from the aircraft, all directed at him. This Eclipse seemed to have its sights set on him. Perhaps it was the same pilot?

"Only ones who fear losing try to prevent it from being a competition." Came an ominous open frequency call. That voice was familiar. It was the one belonging to the Eclipse pilot at B7R that Euphony shot down. Euphony's realization struck. This pilot wasn't just here to stop the launch of the satellite. This pilot was here for revenge.

Euphony evaded as he found the Eclipse tailing him. It's superior speed prevented him from simply running away. His only hope was to turn at this point, as trying to outrun the monster was pointless. He could see the beams from the laser pods glance by him, but suddenly they disappeared.

"I got his six, rookie!" Reaper declared. Soon thereafter there was a punchy fuzzy noise over the comms. "...Geh!" Came an exasperated gasp from Reaper. "I'm hit, but still flying!"

"Can't take the heat?" One of the Zircon pilots taunted.

"Zircon team, get your asses in there for hell's sake. We're getting sick of your attitude over here." Midnight Eye demanded.

"Geh...yes, sir." The Zircon lead affirmed.

Finding himself without any lasers to deal with, Euphony turned the situation into a proper dogfight and turned while the Visarian bandit was a little bit distracted. He managed to get close enough to turn the situation neutral both ways. Although, Euphony got too close at one point and found himself damaged again by a laser which hit his center hull this time, causing him to worry much more seriously now about the integrity of his aircraft.

He noticed gunfire strike the Eclipse suddenly, and watched a Raptor whiz by at high speed. Zircon was now starting to try and directly attack the Mandate superfighter.

"Zircon 2, guns free."

"All teams! Fire missiles to distract the laser defense and get in close with guns! Take out the Eclipse!" The AWACS ordered.

A few minutes into the fight later, the AWACS in a much more disappointing tone announced, "All units, be prepared to egress from this airspace immediately following the shoot-down of the bandit. Hostile fleet is inbound. We're at at tactical disadvantage and must abandon the aerospace center."

The ISAF pilots were too busy to care.

[Anowa]

As the rocket was blasted out of the sky -trampling over any chance ISAF and her allies had of having a successful mission that day- to the Island's south, the previously disabled IFFs of the Anowan 4th carrier group and it's complement of a single supercarrier, two missile cruisers, three destroyers, and over sixty Rafale-M aircraft blipped onto the various ISAF coalition pilot's view-screens. Also visible were several cruise missiles launched from the five separate ships which carried them all streaking towards the Island.

From the West came Empire squadron, all four experienced pilots and it's fourteen newly inducted pilots. If one happened to have the eyesight to see the tails of the collection of F-15C fighters they'd see their squadron's insignia.

A voice came over the MAD frequency: "On crimson skies we ride, across the shattered skies."
A cacophony of weapons lock signal echoed through out the squadron's separate cockpits as each F-15 fired a complement of 4AAM missiles, all streaking forth towards their locked targets, most of them impacted and sent nameless pilots either into the void like abyss of death or out of their canopies into the cold sky.

Major Kowalski spoke to the squadron, "Alright nuggets, use your flares and call for help if you need it, make sure you finish your targets off. Stay alert and stay alive."

The Major and his cohorts gave full burn streaking into the fray -and as per Anowan military doctrine- killing any ejected pilots who managed to get within their sight lines.