Hey everyone. This is an original story, a world war, taking place in 2016. All will be explained in le prologue. I'm making the countries and languages of Ace Combat relate directly to the real world. They are organized as so:
Osean Federation: United States - Emmerian (American and Canadian English)
Yuktobania: Russia/USSR - Yuktobanian (Russian)
Emmeria: United Kingdom/Canada/France - Emmerian, Frankish (British/Canadian English, French)
Belka: Germany - Belkan (German)
Minzoku: Japan – Minzokan (Japanese)
Sotoa: China – Sotoan (Mandarin Chinese)
Hangura (North, South): Korea – Hanguran (Korean)
Sapin: Spain - Sapinish (Spanish)
Ustio: Switzerland/Sweden/Austria/Poland - Mostly Belkan; also Emmerian and Frankish
Estovakia: Based off the Ukraine - Estovakian (Slavic Language/Ukrainian)
Aurelia: Argentina/Peru/Brazil – Sapinish, Portuguese
Leasath: Colombia/Venezuela – Sapinish
Adamas Islands: Caribbean (Puerto Rico, Jamaica, etc.) - Sapinish, Emmerian, Frankish, etc.
Ratio: Portugal – Ratiguese (Portuguese)
The rest of the Osean continent east of Osea and Usea: Roughly Europe – Assorted
The rest of the Verusean continent west and south of Yuktobania: Roughly Asia and Oceania, respectively - Assorted
South Osean Continent (everything south of Osean Federation): Latin/South/Central America – Sapinish, Ratiguese
Africa is oddly missing
Antarctica: Antartica
To see a map with these countries (not mine, but edited by me), go here: .com/albums/v404/Virtro/Ace%
So since they relate to a real world country, so will their influence, culture, and military. For example, Yuktobania will not have any F-16s or A-10s; rather, MiG-29s and Su-25s. Emmeria and Belka will have things like the Tornado and Typhoon, while Osea will have the F-15 and F-22…understand? Also, this is not a story about Cipher, Galm, Mobius, Blaze, Wardog/Razgriz, Talisman, Garuda or any of them, though they will be mentioned and/or featured (Garuda) in the conflict.
Of course, the disclaimer: I DO NOT own anything Ace Combat related, nor do I own any of the planes, tanks, etc. I do, however, take claim to my story and characters, as this work IS legally published, and I would like anyone interested in using my ideas/characters/whatever to email and ask first.
Prologue
Brushing the hair from his eyes, Capt. Ledge Simon Tale allowed an obnoxious sigh to escape from his mouth. A month on leave was not a good idea; laziness set in, and hard. He had let his hair grow out, he hadn't exercised for weeks, and he'd gotten used to sleeping in until 1PM. He still had about 13 days left until he was to return to Emmeria. Being stationed overseas didn't make much sense to him. Why have an aircraft with global range stationed on foreign soil? Lazily reaching for the remote, Ledge, or "Simon" as he was known, powered on the television. Static filled his ears as the set seemed to struggle. A loud crack resonated throughout the room, and an ancient anchorman appeared onscreen. To his right was an image of the flag of Sotoa, a country to the west of Yuktobania about the size of Estovakia.
"......the People's Republic of Sotoa has announced that they do indeed have nuclear weapons. I repeat, Sotoa has been confirmed as a nuclear power."
"Ahh….shit."
"Officials also say that they are 'not afraid' to use nuclear weapons against the Osean Federation and allies if necessary."
The Osean Federation had been the one world's two superpowers for decades, in a political tie with the Union of Yuktobanian Republics; however, the Circum-Pacific War six years ago had weakened both countries considerably. Both navies had been nearly completely devastated and their air forces had been considerably damaged as well, particularly during the latter parts of the war. After the Belkans had been revealed as the real aggressors and the heads-of-state had reappeared, confusion had set in amongst both countries. Some joined forces to attack the Belkans, some joined forces to ironically attack the "traitors", and some went AWOL altogether.
In the end, both countries emerged considerably weakened both economically and militarily. Both had to rebuild their armed forces (Osea had lost all four of its carriers and its entire 3rd Fleet while Yuktobania had suffered the lost entire divisions of aircraft), and peace-loving heads-of-state did not make the situation any easier. Yuktobania, perhaps, had a bit of an advantage; with the world's largest forest and mineral reserves, the Yukes' economy bounced back quickly and their military reaped the benefits, while the Osea had a harder time.
The peace between the two countries, initially, was supported heavily throughout, though the support was superficial. Officials and military leaders were still wary of the enemy. Gradually, tensions relaxed as time passed. By 2015, both countries had rebuilt themselves almost up to pre-war strength. They opted to stay out of the Anean Continental War when Estovakia invaded Emmeria.
That, of course, was a year ago, and was the complete opposite of the current situation.
The People's Republic of Sotoa was a country to the west of Yuktobania. Sotoa currently had one of the world's most rapidly increasing economies, rivaling that of Emmeria and Minzoku, an island nation to the west, as well as one of the largest militaries by number of troops. A communist nation, Sotoa was not exactly on the best of terms with the highly democratic Osea and her allies.
Sotoa's biggest ally was perhaps the Democratic People's Republic of Hangura (more commonly known as North Hangura), also a communist state. With an equally powerful military, the alliance was indeed a force to be reckoned with. It was widely known that North Hangura failed to get along with neither their far eastern neighbors nor their southern counterparts, the Republic of Hangura (South Hangura), the latter of which were allied with Osea.
It was also a very poorly kept secret that Yuktobania supplied the "commies", as the Oseans called them, with equipment. Yuktobania, once communist itself, was notorious for such actions toward enemies of Osea (including the Belkans before the 1995 Belkan War), and this was another reason why Oseans, military and civilian alike, were generally untrusting of Yukes. Emmeria, Minzoku, Aurelia, and South Hangura (historically Osean allies) were also against the communist countries, working closely with Osea to gather intelligence and defend against the aggressive countries if necessary. Yuktobania, on the other hand, had repeatedly expressed its wish to stay "neutral".
And now, with Sotoa's declaration as a nuclear power, Simon was sure things would heat up very quickly.
"President Gonzalez," the news anchor droned, "has publicly expressed his disbelief and desire to avoid war with Sotoa, calling the declaration 'absurd' and a surprise attack on Osea or her allies "unthinkable'."
"Yeah, right," said Simon aloud. "He knows what's gonna happen."
War was just on the horizon.
Chapter One: The Mess Hall
15 FEB 2016
Vitoze Joint Air Base, Khesed Island, Emmeria
1527 hours
"I love you, too, baby. Bye."
Simon hung up the phone in disgust. The last thing he had wanted was for his leave to end, and he had a feeling that his wife felt the same way. Or maybe not. Frowning, he arose from his chair, his rear end sore from hours of stationary work and paper-pushing. He hadn't been flying since he arrived back at Vitoze two weeks earlier, and he was eager to return to the skies ASAP.
Glancing at the clock, Simon lazily dragged his jacket from his chair. He stared into his reflection in his window, his hazel eyes staring back at him, and then shifting to his now short blonde hair. He put on the thin, not-going-to-help-whatsoever windbreaker, realizing that the jacket made him appear rather chubby as opposed to his true thin but stocky build. This was the very reason he lived in South Osea; he loathed the cold. It never did much good for anyone, did it? A waste, in his opinion.
Of course, his opinion didn't matter much.
His initial step into the bitter cold soured his mood even further than it already was. His scalp was more exposed than it was a few weeks ago, and the thin, flimsy flight caps issued by the Air Force did nothing to shield his freezing cranium.
That's what I get for not buying a combination cover.
A short walk and three salutes later, Simon arrived at the mess hall. He hurried inside, immediately assaulted by the delectable fumes of slow cooked beef-and-vegetable stew and various side dishes. The place was warm, a welcome feeling for anyone who'd been in the frigidness of the outside in short-sleeve dress blues and a thin jacket like he had been just a few seconds prior. Simon wasted no time grabbing a tray and piling it high with various warm, tasty foodstuffs. With a notoriously high metabolism, Simon was well-known for his ability to "out-eat" any of superiors or subordinates, even at his tender age of thirty-three.
Simon made his way to an empty booth in the east corner of the mess hall and almost instantaneously began to eat as soon as he was seated. After a few minutes, a voice broke his impenetrable concentration on his voracious food consumption.
"Oi, mate, do you mind if I sit there with you?"
Simon looked up, his eyes landing on a young, black haired, tan skinned flight lieutenant in a green flight suit with Emmerian patches. His hair had the distinction of sticking out in the front left a bit, with that particular patch of hair longer than the rest. Simon wasn't sure if the young pilot intentionally had his hair trimmed that way, and he didn't particularly care at this point.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I t-thought you were someone else," said the man in a strange Emmerian accent.
"It's fine, Lieutenant," Simon replied. "You can sit here, if you'd like."
"Are you sure?"
"Are you going to sit here or not?"
The lieutenant sat opposite of Simon. He could tell that this young officer was a bit nervous, as he tried not to make eye-contact. The lieutenant began to eat quietly.
"What's your name, Lieutenant?" Simon asked.
"Uh...Flight 'Leftenant' V-Virtro Dmitry Tugimora, No. 13 Squadron, Royal Emmerian Air Force."
"You do realize I only asked for your name."
"Sorry, sir."
"You're a fighter pilot?"
"Yes, sir. No. 13 Squadron. F-16 Block 40. We're in the middle of a transition, but our new aircraft aren't here yet. Six of our planes were destroyed in an accident a few weeks ago. Trainee stalled, dropped, and SMACK!" Virtro banged the desk with his fist, causing people around them to glance over. "Right onto the damned hangar. Bloody horrible. Biggest damned accident in Emmerian history! So now we're mixed with spare Mirages from Sipli."
"Again, I asked one question."
"Uhh….my apologies, sir. I get carried away sometimes."
"No kidding."
Virtro scoffed.
"Where are you from, Lieutenant? You have a different accent than most Emmerians."
"Well, I was born in San Loma, sir."
"I've never heard San Lomans speak like that."
"My dad is originally from Minzoku, and my mother is from Yuktobania. I speak all three languages. Fluently."
"And you wanted to be a pilot? You would've had one hell of a career in Linguistics, you know."
"So I've been told, sir, but it just felt right to follow in my father's footsteps. Besides, I'd take an office with a bird's view over flying a desk any day."
"No argument here," Simon murmured, taking a sip of his tea. "I haven't flown since I've been back because my plane's bein' overhauled." Simon noticed Virtro seemed to be warming up, so to speak, to him. He also noticed that Virtro talked a lot, and rather quickly, when nervous.
"You're a fighter pilot, too, sir?"
"Uh, not exactly. Air Battle Manager."
"Oh, AWACS, I see. I heard it was like a desk job, just in the air."
"You might want to check your sources, Lieutenant."
Virtro chuckled, smiling. "Will do, sir."
Into Simon's view appeared another figure, this one a tanned female with jet-black hair pulled tightly into a low bun. She was just slightly darker than Virtro and about his height. Her soft-looking skin, voluptuous lips and rounded jaw line contrasted sharply with piercing brown eyes and elegant brows, yet seemed to fit flawlessly. She also wore the same patches on her forest green flight suit that Virtro did, showing that she was also an Emmerian fighter pilot. Her voice, however, betrayed her ethnicity.
"Sir," the woman said, "do you mind?" She motioned towards the table. She spoke with a thick Sapinish accent.
"Not at all."
The woman seated herself next to Virtro in the booth. They appeared to know each other.
Virtro took it upon himself to introduce the woman. "Sir, this is 1st 'Leftenant' Isabel Susana Álvarez, my flight lead."
I'm sure she's fully capable of introducing herself, Simon thought.
"I think I can introduce myself," Isabel told Virtro, as if ripping the thought from Simon's mind.
"Eh…sorry," the pilot apologized. "Just being polite."
"You're from Sapin?" Simon queried.
"Sí," she responded in Sapinish. "My father and I emigrated to Emmeria when I was 15."
"I see."
Simon enjoyed his meal and conversation with his newfound acquaintances for another 10 minutes before he had to return to his office. He found himself pleasantly content for the rest of the day; these were the first people he really sat down and spoke to since he'd been stationed in Emmeria, unlike the countless blockhead commanders and big wigs he had to report to, or the nervous recruits and enlisted who couldn't salute with out soiling themselves. Or, at least, that's how he saw it.
Again, that probably didn't mean much at all.