A/N: This is my very first Ace Combat fic..... though it is crap, i was thinking that it was about time i publish this. If not i may regret it for a very long time. I've only played Ace Combat 5 and 6, though read wikipedia on brief summaries of the others. Still, don't be surprised if the situations sound familiar to 5 and 6. Another note, there WILL be connections to 5 and 6.... just not so early in the story. And i know that my stuff is crap, so don't think of flaming me on grammar. I already get enough of that from the computer. And IF you realize the actual countries i use as references for this story, just remember that this is Ace Combat, and has NOTHING to do with the real world. So there. Read and (hopefully) enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ace combat, never did, never will.
Key:
"Blah blah" = normal talk
'"blah blah"' = radio talk
Markings of the Sky
"As long as man exist, so will wars."
"A man isn't born to be great. It is what situation he is thrown in, that makes him great."
Opening his eyes slowly, he felt his world sink back from the dream he was having. While it wasn't a very pleasant dream, he did not really feel like coming back to reality, to this room. Lifting the magazine from his face, he looked around the room. It was a crowded lounge for them, the pilots, and yet no one really complained.
Okay, maybe a few them. A familiar face was staring straight at him, a woman with one very irritated look. He gave her a smile, and watched as her mouth opened and closed, but he could not hear a word she was saying, so he took his earphones out of his ears. It was then that the full volume of the lounge could be heard. Noisy would be a vast understatement.
"Kyle, have you hearing a single word that i've said?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, not really caring. That earned his a knock to the head.
"Ow! Hey, watch it. It's fragile."
"Hmph, as if you have anything inside that thing you call a skull."
"Of course i have something within this handsome layer which you prime-apes call a skull. It's called brains."
Kyle replied in a confident manner. A joker at heart, sure, and overall a good man, but still unable to get a girlfriend. Sad story, or so James would say. The woman rolled her eyes at that statement, mumbling something like 'whatever'.
"Anyway, we've been called to the General's office. Have you seen-"
"He's probably in the hangar, right? He's always there if he's not here."
"True... thanks."
"Yeah, sure."
Kyle waved her off, before swinging his feet off the coffee table. Somehow, he felt that today was different from other days. Something was definitely different, but he wouldn't know that till much later.
Republic of Sangarin. A small country that lies close to the border between the North and South hemispheres. It has no natural resource available, unlike many of its neighbours, and so had to rely on other means to create its economy. It took one man, one great man, to bring the once broken and untamed land into what it is today, a thriving metropolis. Using its geographic location, it deals greatly in the trading done between the Eastern countries with the Western.
While the country itself had not gone to war, they have built up a powerful military, becoming one of the strongest in the region. So much so that its military also became one of its main economy. The country takes in raw materials, process them, and create war machines. It also creates electrical appliances, but that was like a side business. Many question the purpose of its military presence, since it would only take a single atomic bomb to flatten the country, almost.
During the Circum-Pacific war between Osea and Yuktobania, and during the more recent war between Emmeria and Estovakia, Sangarin had sent out its military to help. Though still young as a nation, it had already made a name for itself. A small, but powerful country, with its military home to many aces. In this day and age, it was normal for countries to try to train 'aces' for their military.
History had shown that ace pilots were always the ones to turn the tides of war, and the Republic had wasted no time, enlisting many people to join their army. Conscription was more like it. But certainly, the air force was something that not just anyone could enter. They also changed their forceful ways, so only people who 'volunteered' to go could try out for their exam. But being powerful also meant having enemies.
He really preferred to sit back, and relax, but then again, everyone was like that, or at least everyone he knew. His eyes went back to the instruction booklet sitting on his lap, as he checked the panels once more. Everything seemed to check in right. Yet he could never remember the sequence right. The commander was going to nail his ass if he didn't get this right.
"Let's see.... this... then this... then-"
Just as he pushed a button, a bang from the engine caused him to jump. Peering out of the cockpit, he turned and saw black smoke pouring out from the left engine. Now he was screwed.
"Again?!... You've got to pull it together, Ariuel, or you'll never be promoted."
He turned and saw the tired face of the chief mechanic, Craig Deveris. An old man with a cranky attitude and a good strong arm with a wrench.
"Are you sure it isn't the plane?"
He was so sure he got it this time.
"This bird may be old, but if you don't do the proper checks in the right order, she'll blow herself up, just like what you did. Sheesh, you're lucky this thing isn't being used."
"... Sorry."
Craig sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to inspect the damage.
"It's amazing how you can do this, and yet still be the best in your class. I guess it's in your blood."
"... I'll do better next time."
He did not like talking about this family. Never did.
"Vergil!"
His head perked up at the call of his name. At the doorway of the hangar a young woman with long dark brown hair, and emerald eyes twinkling with... irritation?
"Sepheria?"
"What are you doing here?! The General had called us hours ago!"
He checked his watch, and found that although the term 'hours' is incorrect, they were late. Vergil Ariule jumped out of the cockpit, and ran up to her.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing, its a bad habit of yours, and you seriously need to quit it.... Did you blow up another engine?"
Sepheria looked at the smoking engine.
"Erm..."
"Never mind. Let's go."
The two made their way back into the base, and headed towards the commanding room. Reaching the office, they saw Kyle standing outside. Kyle was taller than Vergil by half a head, and the former would never let up about it. With his short chestnut brown hair, Kyle Harlet was the joker of the trio.
"Took you two lovebirds long enough."
"Oh shut up."
Sepheria snapped at Kyle, who smirked. Vergil knocked on the door of the general's office, waiting for a reply.
"Enter."
The trio entered the small office of the base commander, General Richard Koulesh. General Koulesh was a large and domineering man, whose height would be considered an oddity in this small southern country. Dark skinned, and with a presence that would make other people hide. This man is a legend in the military, and a man who has seen three wars, decorated five times, and kept three of his units alive when cornered. The very first time Vergil saw this man, he nearly fainted. The trio stood in line before the desk, and saluted.
"At ease."
The general threw three files on the table, no doubt for them.
"... You three have shown particular skill when flying. The top three in your class yet each having their own faults."
The general eyed Vergil particularly.
"But it's time that you three would get to join a squadron. Personally, i would like to separate you three, since we need to spread out our skills across."
"Aw, come on, the three of us have been together since... forever!"
Kyle complained, which wasn't unusual, and even the general was used to it. And the term 'forever' really isn't the right one. They only met during their days in the academy. It just so happened that all three were late on the first day, and were punished together by running around the field. To think that these three would later become the top of their class.
"Second Lieutenant Harlet, your habit of not letting others finish is terrible, i suggest you change it. Anyway, like i was saying, you three have been under-going advance training under Captain Iathan, and according to him, you three aren't ready to fly yet."
"The captain?"
Sepheria pondered. Sure, even Vergil was slightly puzzled. It was the captain who told them not to worry, and that they were as good as veterans. Some words of encouragement from a person they just met during that time.
"Yes, second Lieutenant Enthasia. The higher-ups are pushing me to make every squad ready, but i trust Captain Iathan's judgement, so you three would still be flying in the Black Knights."
"No way!"
"Ahem... Second Lieutenant Harlet, do you wish to add something?"
General Koulesh raised an eyebrow at Kyle, who sighed.
"No sir."
"Good. Now, you may be still part of the Black Knights, but you are no longer trainees. The three of you are now part of that squadron till the captain says so."
That was just an excuse not to let his favourite play-things go, by what Vergil would be thinking. The captain was known to bully them sometimes, change their call-signs to weird names, force them with his regular 'drinks', and so on. A fun-loving guy, but overall, a grade A weirdo. The general and the captain seem to go way back, as so evident in the trust they place in each other. The general pulled out a drawer from the desk, and pulled out something, throwing them on the desk, revealing them to be badges.
"The three of you are here-by promoted to first Lieutenants. Take care of those."
Vergil was stunned at the sight, but Kyle wasn't, as usual, and snatched up his new rank.
"Thank you sir!"
"Stop kissing it, it isn't your girlfriend, even if you pretend you had one."
"... Stay on course. We'll hit them hard once the time is true."
'"We'll finally have the chance to deliver retribution on those bastards."'
'"We're entering the designated zone. All pilots, prepare."'