Author Notes: I don't own either the Ace Combat Series or any of the planes, weapons, vehicles, companies, or really anything mention in this story , though I am under the impression that my characters are original, please correct me if I'm wrong. This is just how I personally picture Belka and the world of Ace Combat. The characters names were inspired from books, movies, games, people I know, and looking through a German dictionary. Some places and things I made up myself. Belka like in the game is roughly base off of Nazi Germany, Yuktobania is based on the Soviet Union in a slightly more benign form, Osea is loosely based on the United States, and ISAF/North Point (part of ISAF) is loosely based on U.S. and more of the U.K. in my story at least. I'm not so great with names so if anyone has idea for German sounding names and some character ideas please let me know. I'm also open to ideas. I've got a vague idea where this story is going with two main characters, second will be introduced in the next chapter. I've never done this before so please give constructive reviews.
All German words will appear in italics. All military ranks will be in German, just enter Germany Officer Ranks at wikipedia. If you can't read German just google "german dictionary", but here are some
translations.
Ja:yes, Danke:thank you, Auf Wiedersehen:good bye, Herr:Mr./Sir, Guten Morgen: good morning, Luftwaffe: air force, Heer: army, Kriegsmarine: navy
Also in German the letters are pronounce like the following: J: Y, W: V, V: F, CH: K/C
Ex. Volkswagen really sounds like 'Folksvaigen'.
Chapter 1: How I Got Here
"Osean scheißen" growled as my radio cut out again. I looked at my F-5A Freedom Fighter, which was built by Northrop-Grumman an Osean company (AN: in real life it's an American company). This plane was outdated by decades and there were much better models available like the F-5E Tiger II or F-20 Tiger Shark. This old plane made simple routine peace time air patrols a pain in the ass. I flew my archaic fighter plane next to my flight lead. His plane like mine is painted dark sea blue with a grey stripe down the middle and a white nose, a black 05 on the side, and a blue jay perch on s tree branch. I hand signaled that my radio was out; he signaled that his was dying.
'RTB' was what he his next signal and he, Blau 05, his wingman Blau 06, and I, Blau 08, turned back for Sudenberg Air Force Base.
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Upon landing I notice that C-17s, contracted by Belka from North Point and main transport of the Luftwaffe, were unloading MiG-21s. Climbing out of my plane I saw my flight lead looking overjoyed at the sight of the Fishbeds.
"Herr Hauptmann Freiman, what's with these Yuke planes?" I asked my flight lead. He was tall, 20 year old, man with light brown hair and matching eyes. Turning he said, "They're for us." 'Finally' I thought. Belka contracts planes from many countries mainly McDonnell-Douglas (AN: also American Companies) in North Point, some from Sukhoi and Mikoyan-Gurevich in Yuktobania (AN: Russian Companies), and Northrop-Grumman in Osean. Yuktobanian MiGs would be a far cry from Osean planes. Sometimes I feel like the world lives to take advantage of us.
"Hey! Paul!" Leutnant Deodar Krauss, Blau 06, was walking up to me from his plane. Krauss is 19, like me, almost always asks questions and overly friendly guy, not like me. He was shorter than me around 5' 7", has long dark blonde hair, and a nose that looked like it was broken, in my opinion someone did that to shut him up. "When does your new wingman arrive?" he asked as we walked to Blau Squadron quarters.
"Soon I guess" not really caring. I have had eight wingmen come and go in the year I've served in the Belkan Luftwaffe. I kept an eye on them in the sky, but never paid much attention on the ground. Come to think of it I couldn't remember their names since I never bothered to get to know them and they wanted to leave anyway. The 23rd Auxiliary Fighter Regiment and its three squadrons are backwater units with obsolete planes and people transferred to better equipped units as soon as possible. "You sound trilled" he said noticing my usual indifference. I just shrugged.
"Why do you never get to know your wingmen? Why don't you ever talk about your family or friends? Do you even have family or friends? Why did you join the Luftwaffe?"
Getting annoyed I said, "Why do you always ask a million questions? Just shut up and that's an order." As an Oberleutnant I found it's the only way to shut him up. His would only say after that,
"Jawohl Mein Herr!"
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We reached our quarters, he going into the room he shared with Herr Hauptmann Schneider and me going into mine. Belkan Luftwaffe code to allow wingmen to better know each other is to make the two pilots share a room. The room is simple with a bathroom to the right, two desks to the left, a bunk bed with nook and reading lap and a curtain for privacy, and a window at the end of the room. Bathroom had a toilet, basic shower unit and sliding door, and mirror that ran the length of the wall over two sinks.
As I climbed on my bed on the top bunk and found the manual for the Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21 bis. I open it and began to read. I made it my duty to know everything about the planes I fly and I always make sure I know the manual back to front. While reading, in spite of myself I started to think about Krauss's questions. Why don't I feel attached to anyone and why am I here? I guess it started years ago and for the first time since I left home I flip through the photo albums my father gave me. I thought about when I left home.
One Year Ago Hoffnung, Süden Belka, March 12th, 1994
My alarm went off at 6:00. Opening my eyes I shut it off and crawl out of bed. I look out the widow and greeted with the old sight of a small street in the industry city of Hoffnung.
"Paul?" moan Oscar, the youngest of my four brothers "Why did you set the alarm so early?"
"Leaving early" I said indifferently pulling pants over the boxers I slept in and grabbing my brown leather jacket.
"Eh?"
"I'm supposed to report to the Luftwaffe base near town today" I said rolling my eyes. With fours younger brothers and three little sisters no one including my parents remembered what I was doing. I was never in trouble with the polizei or did badly in school so I was left forgotten. I spent most of my time at work, riding my motorcycle, watching planes at the air base, or reading. I thought about attending college, but father's paycheck from the railroad or mother's from the diner wasn't enough for me to attend any college in Belka. Plus overhearing them I realized they could barely afford to pay the bills with all eight of us.
"Why?" asked Peter, who just woke and is next oldest after me in the family, if you care.
Without looking at them and check I had everything in my backpack and duffle bag I said, "It pays more than the factories, I'll see more of the world or at least Belka, it'll be exciting, and I get three meals a day." 'And its not here where I dead weight and forgotten' I thought.
I left without saying anything to other brothers or my sisters. I wouldn't say I hated my family, but they'd never paid any attention to me and so I never felt attached to them or anyone. Maybe I did resent them a little for being treated like I wasn't there. Oh well.
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To my surprise in the kitchen my father, fairly well built man in his fifties, balding, has a raspy voice, he was there smoking a cigarette and had three books next to him.
"Paul… 'cough' uh… guten morgen." He was looking uncomfortable. "Hear you're joining the Kriegsmarine even though you're 16."
"Luftwaffe" I corrected, "I can't swim, but you wouldn't know that. Would you? And I turned 18 before I graduated from high school, which you also wouldn't know. Eh?" I wasn't mad, just a little tired f crap.
He couldn't meet my gaze. "Oh… 'cough, wheeze' uh… I just wanted you to take these with you before you leave for what I already know will be forever." He looked upset.
"Father, look, I don't hate you guys, but it's like I'm not really part of this family so I just don't see the point staying. Plus I know money is too tight for you and mother to raise eight kids when I can work. Maybe I can go to college later with the money I make. Maybe I can send so home."
"I can't take your money after failing you! 'hack, wheeze' " he almost knocked the books off the table jumping up. I stared. 'Failing me huh?' "Sorry I didn't me to yell, but… uh I feel like I wasn't a good father" I agreed, but didn't say it. I might be insensitive, but not cruel.
Looking at the books I asked, "What are they?"
"Family photos."
"I don't…"
"Please." He looked so sad I couldn't say no.
"Er… right, Danke" I said briefly looking through them. Checking my watch I said, "I gotta go."
I left the kitchen to the back to my motorcycle. It was an old 1941 BWM motorcycle with side car that the Heer used years ago. I loved this bike and kill anyone who'd touch it after the year I spent fixing it. I placed the albums in my duffle, my duffle in the side car, secured my backpack on my back, place an old Heer steel helmet on my head and slide goggles over my eyes.
"When did you get this?" Father asked, clearly shocked, then coughing again.
"Three years ago and I spent a year fixing it up. Remember?"
"Er… Ja." I could almost always tell when someone was lying to me and he wasn't even a challenge, but I didn't say anything about it.
"I'm going now."
"Paul" He sounded so like he needed to say something important. He was even looking me straight in the eye for once. "Be careful and come back to visit us someday."
"Ja. Someday."
"Promise?" he said very quietly.
"Ja." I said just as quietly.
"Danke. 'cough, hack, cough' "
"You really should stop smoking."
I started the engine. It roared to life and I was quite satisfied by how smooth it was running. I heard him yell over the sound of engine, "Auf wiedersehen."
I turned and waved. "Auf wiedersehen."
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I sped off for the highway heading north. I arrive at the Hoffnung City Luftwaffe Base located thirty mile west of Hoffnung. A guard holding an old H&K G3 stopped me at the gate.
"Halt!"
Pulling out some documents I handed them to him. "I believe I'm suppose to be reporting here."
"Sehr gut! Beeil dich, mach Schnell!" He yelled waving me on.
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"Guten morgen soon to be proud pilots of the Principality of Belka and Willkommen to the Luftwaffe" said an officer who was giving a speech to me and at least eighty other people. I tuned out at that point. I didn't care. I'll do whatever they want me to just as long as I have a job and I could fly, which sound exciting. Plus I kinda liked the idea of serving my country.
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Hours later another officer was asking me information about myself in a bored voice. He probably asked these questions a million times.
"Name."
"Paul Vogel."
"Age."
"18"
"Height."
"5' 8"
"Weight."
"141 pounds"
"Right then. Hair is brown. Eyes are green. That should cover it. Wait out side and we'll tell you where you'll be trained."
Today Sudenberg Air Force Base, Süden Belka, March 1, 1995
I finished my training with honors; I wasn't social and spent all my time practicing in simulators and reading manuals on air tactics and planes. I was extremely knowledgeable and very discipline soldier, but I didn't want leadership. I continued looking at pictures in the album while thinking about my 'fun' past. While flipping through the page I found pictures of my great grandparents when the Belka Federation still existed, before the Principality and the Fascist Party took over four years ago.
"Achtung, Achtung! Herr Oberluntant Vogel report to Herr Oberst Sturmhawke's office to pick up your new wingman!" Shouted a voice over the PA system effectively derailing my train of thought.
'I wonder who they sent me this time' I though vaguely.
To Be Continued
AN: hope you like it. I know my writing isn't the best and I need to spell-check just tell me and I'll and fix it. If this isn't a stupid idea and you readers out there really like I'll post chapter two which
includes a description of Sudenberg AFB, 23rd AFR, the other people on the base, and my other main character which if haven't guessed is Paul's new wingman. It gets bets better trust me.
Respectfully
J. H. Kamiya
