The Global War on Neuroi
Disclaimer- I do NOT own Strike Witches or World Witches or whatever.
Chapter 1 Welcome to Ostman
"So, no shit, there we were..."
Surely the only way to start any military story is with those six words at least for our generation; the generation which fought for the future of mankind over the deserts and mountains of Ostman and beyond. The first major Neuroi attack happened on the east coast of the United States of Liberion in 2001 which took the lives of 3,000 people and injured over 6,000. The few active Witches at the time fought off the remaining Neuroi and with international cooperation managed to pinpoint the source to Ostman. The sprawling empire had been struggling with newly forming mini-Hives and upon further investigation the threat didn't seem to be isolated to just them. Mini-Hives have also been spotted in northern Africa and southeast Asia, and this revelation is what sparked the demand that new waves of Witches be recruited, trained, and deployed. As the Witch recruits were getting ready for war the veterans that weren't designated as instructors got sent to the front lines and assisted conventional military forces.
The campaigns across the afflicted regions saw a decent margin of success versus the losses incurred, and it was because of this that some nations began to think of Witches as superfluous and antiquated. This belief drove military planners to look to finish the war as quickly as possible by pushing spearheads of aircraft and tanks to destroy the mini-Hives, but the Neuroi response was swift and fierce as the international coalition forces took heavy losses. The devastating failures gave advocates the leverage to request additional funding and support for Witches to have a larger presence on these modern battlefields. The measures were approved practically overnight for Liberion, Orussia, and Britannia while other nations approved theirs within the week. The priority was on training combat-ready Witches and developing new technology to allow them to better complement the conventional military forces.
Initially when this new wave of Witches was put into combat they were organized into smaller squadrons of specialized personnel that usually consisted of Witches from no more than two countries at a time. This method seemed to be effective at pushing the Neuroi back but the squadrons were too divided and specialized to be able to systematically take out the mini-Hives in their current form. An emergency meeting of the UN Security Council saw Liberion, Britannia, and Gallia request the reforming of Joint Fighter Wings or JFWs for short. The vote was unanimously in favor of the motion and the world's military planners with the help of senior Witch personnel saw the forming of the first JFWs since the Second Neuroi War. In October 2003 seven JFWs were approved and Witches from squadrons around the Neuroi infested areas as well as from their home countries received orders to assemble under various regional military commands.
Unfortunately the process of forming the new JFWs has been delayed by theater commanders running their few Witches into the ground with sorties and temporary deployments where Neuroi activity was especially heavy. It took about four years to take meaningful steps towards forming the first five JFWs while the last ones happened to be the two forming in Ostman. The second to last unit to be fully assembled was the 563rd JFW designated the "Royal Witches" and they were responsible for central and southern Ostman which also included the palaces that housed the royal family. The final JFW, designated the 532nd JFW "Desert Witches", will be complete within a week once all of the personnel have arrived at Ali Al Salem Air Base. The 532nd's area of responsibility is mostly northern Ostman and parts of western Persia, and it's this particular place that we follow the successes, failures, and growing pains of the Desert Witches!
"... scouting out this area for a mini-Hive and this giant tank Neuroi comes tearing over a dune right next to us!" A soldier recounted his story to some other soldiers at a smoking area, or smoke pit, with dramatic hand gestures between drags on his cigarette. "We fought like hell, but the damn thing wouldn't go down and we were taking casualties. We'd been calling for help since the beginning and all we were told is that some kind of support was-"
"En route." Came a flat, tired feminine voice as the sound of gravel and sand crunching beneath boots got closer.
The soldiers all turned to see who it was that finished the storyteller's sentence. It was indeed a girl who couldn't be more than a shade over five feet tall with short dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, slightly tan skin, and a petite build. She was wearing a pretty worn-out MultiCam blouse with the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows, coyote brown undershirt, gloves, and boots, and when she lifted her arms to light her cigarette they could see her maroon panties.
The eyes on her did not go unnoticed. She took a drag on her cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. "See something you like down there?" She asked in annoyance.
The soldiers' eyes snapped to hers immediately after being caught scoping out her underwear. They felt the sweat forming on their brows and could already hear the Equal Opportunity complaint. Just when they thought it couldn't get any worse one poor soul decided to speak up. "Where are your pants?!" He asked loudly.
The storyteller, a Sergeant, was about to yell at his subordinate, a Specialist, when the girl simply uttered. "They weren't issued to me." She then took another drag of her cigarette.
A few laughs came from some of the soldiers, but it didn't seem the Specialist was going to let it go and decided to dig himself a deeper hole. "This isn't a joke, soldier. You're violating multiple uniform regulations, so explain yourself! Now!" He yelled obviously not liking that this snarky brat made him look dumb in front of his squad.
And again when the Sergeant was about to verbally annihilate his troop the girl beat him by standing up quickly and looking absolutely incensed. She took the cigarette from between her lips and let the Specialist have it. "First, I wasn't joking. Second, I'm in the Air Force. Third, I don't give a flying fuck about your regulations. And last, I'm Dannielle Hackney, a flying Witch who doesn't take shit from anyone especially ignorant assholes like you!"
Silence fell over the soldiers who figured that they were completely screwed thanks to the loudmouth Specialist, but the Sergeant finally had a chance to speak up. "I thought that was you, Captain Hackney. Don't mind my men, by the way, they were probably just surprised to see the "Angel of Ostman" when not being up shit creek without a paddle. See you got a haircut." He finished with a smile.
Dannielle looked at the man that seemed to recognize her and her features softened a bit as she reflexively reached behind her head to touch her short hair that didn't even reach her collar. "Oh, um it's whatever. See that you've finally decided to grow up since I saved your ass." She responded quietly as if the yelling reminded her of how tired she really was.
The Sergeant smirked at Dannielle's comment. "Yup, I'm all grown up and it only took me a couple years to go from an FNG(Fucking New Guy) to a seasoned Sergeant." Proudly pointing to the rank on his chest.
"Hey, I thought the "Angel of Ostman" had divine features and long, glowing blonde hair." The Specialist spoke up in confusion. "At least that's how she looked in the Witch magazine when they did a feature all about her."
The Sergeant smacked his forehead in frustration while Dannielle just regarded the Specialist with a look of minor annoyance. "That feature was done like two years ago, a bit before I got my hair cut and that part about glowing hair was just a propaganda thing. Plus, I'd like to see how you look after being sun-baked and sand-blasted while fighting Neuroi and saving skins for over four straight years." She said in a tight voice with her arms folded over her chest.
The guy had the good graces to look a little embarrassed until he suddenly looked shocked as he processed what she had said about how many years she's been around here. "Holy shit! Four fucking years?!" He squawked in a grating exclamation.
Dannielle flinched at the outburst and just as she was going to explain she was stopped dead when she heard a familiar voice call out to her. "Danni, are you out here... of course you are. I thought I told you to get some sleep while you could. We're officially on crew rest until 0800 tomorrow." The previously unseen girl closed in on the smaller girl with a cross look on her face and her hands on her hips.
The new arrival appeared to be a Britannian Witch if the accent was anything to go by. The girl was about half a foot taller than Dannielle and had a fairer complexion with a slightly curvier figure. She had sharp green eyes and her mid-back length light brown hair was neatly straightened. She was wearing a Britannian desert camouflage blouse with the sleeves rolled up, knee high white socks, tan boots, and her white panties were just barely visible.
"I know Katie, but I wanted to smoke after our last sortie and then I got trapped in a friendly and not so friendly discussion with these guys, and, and... I sorta lost track of time." Danni admitted like a child being scolded by their mother.
"Katie" sighed in slight exasperation at her wingman's antics. "Not your best excuse Danni, but I suppose I'll let it slide this time. You are going to bed though." She said in a tone that left very little room for argument before taking the girl's cigarette and throwing it in the garbage.
"Hey! That was my last cigarETTE!" Danni finished with a yell because the Britannian picked her up and threw her over her shoulder. "Oh c'mon, you're giving them a show!" She whined before giving up on any attempt to get free and went slack with a downcast expression on her face.
"I think you deserve to be on display given how many times you've told me that it was the "last cigarette" you had." Katie said in a nasally voice to tease Danni a bit.
Danni just groaned sadly. "Aww, that was my last cigarette though, you bully."
Katie rolled her eyes. "I don't believe you, and while you are in the shower I'm going to clean out your side of the tent of all tobacco products and explicit material." She said with a voice that dared the Liberion to protest.
"Not cool..." Danni continued to whine as the Britannian girl carried her away.
Some chuckles and headshakes came from the peanut gallery at the girls' strange interaction, but all things considered it was hard to remember that they are still just teenagers. The Sergeant was grinning the whole time while the Specialist looked like a fish out of water. "Uh, Sergeant who just carried away the "Angel of Ostman" like she was a sack of potatoes?" He said after regaining his composure.
The Sergeant never lost his grin as he faced his troops. "That gentlemen would be Squadron Leader Katherine Lancaster, one of the higher scoring aces of this conflict and longest tenured wingman of Captain Hackney. They complement each other better than most. Danni is uninhibited and a little reckless whereas Katie is the calculating, efficient leader in control of battle planning." He explained as if teaching a class on Witch chemistry until he let out a hearty chuckle. "Plus, I think the little angel needed a babysitter to keep her out of trouble."
The soldiers all had a good laugh at that last little tidbit, then they finished their smoke break and got ready for a briefing concerning their next mission.
The Witches had their own compound with a hardened hangar, a command tent, a bathroom facility, and five new tents in addition to the one that Danni and Katie had been staying in over the last month. It's in this part of the base that the two girls were laying in bed and having some idle conversation before they went to sleep. It certainly should be noted that the mess that once was Danni's side of the tent was noticeably sparse following Katie's purge of her vices.
"I hate you." Danni said with a huff.
Katie rolled her eyes. "No, you don't."
Danni forcefully blew air out of her nose. "Whatever." She then turned to face her wingman's bunk across from hers. "You wouldn't happen to know who our commander is going to be, would you?"
"I saw a list of possible candidates on an email a few days ago, could be any one of the twelve Witches on that list." Katie said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Coulda just said that you didn't know." Danni murmured flatly before turning away from the Britannian ace.
"Sure, but I like making you feel uninformed." Katie said with a tired smile. "We'll find out tomorrow, so just relax and enjoy the ride."
With that they both managed to fall asleep even with the anticipation of tomorrow hanging over them.
A/N: I've had this idea floating in my noodle for a while and I finally decided to give it a whirl. Any similarities to other works is unintended. Some of the equipment featured throughout might be anachronistic, just regard them as Witch-specific upgrades or whatever puts you at ease. I just hope the whole thing doesn't sound clumsy. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading if you made it this far, you beautiful person.