YESTERDAY'S ACE
Author: TrueWarrior
Genre: Action/Adventure/Sci-Fi
Rating: T
Summary: An explosion in the skies sends Blaze sixteen years into the past. Can he find a way back home?
Distribution: Ask me first!
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CHAPTER ONE
Light Chit-Chat and The Dual Explosion
MAY 28, 2011
1143 hrs
Oured, Federation of Osea
The dark clouds started to dissipate over the skies of Oured, Osea. Twin engines sounds, that were almost deafening, roared past the city, performing a routine flyover. The source of the twin engines were four jets. The planes were SU-37 Terminators, and they were accelerating as if retreating from a long battle. The jets were decked out in black paint, and an insignia of a woman's profile with a winged helmet. It was over these skies that the SOLG (Strategic Orbital Linear Gun) fell under the might of the squadron known as Razgriz.
The squadron had started off as a three-wing team from Sand Island and were known as Wardog Squadron. They were nuggets at the time, fighter pilots who were slowly starting to mature into what they would soon become. Their flight leader was Captain Jack Bartlett, a veteran of the Belkan War sixteen years ago. Immediately after Operation: Gyre, he was shot down by an enemy ship's missile, forcing Second Lt. Adrian Kenkaid, call sign Blaze, to take up command of the squadron.
Under Blaze's command, Wardog protected the aircraft carrier Kestrel, allowing it and several other ships to escape St. Hewlett Naval Port from advancing Yuktobanian fighters and a small Yuktobanian blockade fleet. During a battle with Yuktobanian B-1 bombers, Hans Grimm, a pilot trainee who after Captain Bartlett was shot down, took up the fourth spot in the former Wardog squadron.
Kei Nagase was also in the squadron. As the only female pilot in the squadron, she dedicated herself to protecting Blaze following what happened to Captain Bartlett. The two grew close professionally, flying together and assisting their comrades in battle. During Operation: Backhaul, she was shot down, while overseeing the rescue of Osean POWs. Naturally, she was rescued, and she rejoined the squadron.
Prior to joining them as their third wingman, Captain Marcus Snow, callsign Swordsman, was the leader of the Kestrel's air wing, the VFA-206. After helping the former Wardog squad fake their deaths, he officially joined them as their number three. Their previous third wingman, Alvin H. Davenport, was shot down over November City Stadium while trying to provide cover for the Osean Vice President during a peace rally. Nicknamed 'Motormouth' Chopper" by Bartlett, he had a knack for comic dialogue, which usually landed him in trouble when he flew.
Razgriz flew over the skies of Osea and began to slowly decrease their speed. They flew in a perfect v-formation, with Blaze taking the lead, Edge second, Archer third, and Swordsman bringing the fourth. They truly were aces in the truest sense of the word. Since the destruction of the SOLG and the defeat of the combined Grabacr and Ofnir squadrons, the skies were quiet. "It's so peaceful up here," Nagase said, her voice relaxed and peaceful.
"Yeah, it is," Blaze replied, smiling under his face mask. Usually, when he flew, he was all about business, giving his comrades orders to be executed without question. "When I was a boy, my family used to take me camping into the Waldreich Mountains. It was so beautiful up there, and we had nothing but good weather. Whenever it grew cold, we just started a fire and roasted marshmallows."
"Sounds like it was a good childhood," Snow said.
"It was." Blaze sounded almost like he was going to break down into tears. But he covered himself well and maintained his relaxed flying.
"My family was the same way," Grimm piped in. No longer was he the nervous 19 year old fighter trainee pilot; he was a 20 year old young man, who had been witness to Razgriz's strength and their well-balanced flight lead. "We were explorers and curious about every little thing there was."
"We're all explorers in our own right, Grimm," Blaze said. "What we explore and what's ahead of us is for us to make our own destiny."
A rumble from the skies jarred the squadron's concentration and Blaze looked around, trying to ascertain what was causing it. With his head on a swivel, he thought it was turbulence, but then he looked straight ahead, not sure what to make of what was in front of his team. The skies started to darken. The cockpit's radio crackled to life, interrupting the peaceful reprieve. "This is Oka Nieba to Razgriz Squadron," the bouncy voice of AWACS (Airborne Warning And Control System Wing) Oka Nieba said. "We're reading massive cloud cover in your area. It looks to be a storm." The clouds looked like it covered the entire southern sky.
"We see it as well, AWACS." Grimm checked his instruments and then his cockpit; sure enough, the clouds looked like storm clouds. "Better keep an eye on us. We don't want any kind of trouble out here." But there was no turbulence to speak of as Razgriz continued to investigate.
"Run an analysis, and fill us in ASAP," Edge prompted.
Blaze flew his Terminator with a growing look of concern. His breathing was calm, but he seemed to sense something from the clouds. Soon, Razgriz was close enough to the center of the clouds so that Oka Nieba could try and offer a possible explanation as to what was going on. "We've completed our analysis of the clouds," AWACS said. "Unfortunately, all it looks like is just your normal storm clouds."
Blaze's cockpit shook slightly as he slowly moved forward. "Captain, that cloud is covering the southern path," Snow reported. "I recommend that we head back north and wait this storm out."
Blaze was about to respond when he heard a bleep on his radar. He knew that the radars of his flight crew were also registering the same disturbance on their radar. "Something is happening," Oka Nieba warned. His upbeat tone now grew serious, as if in alarm. "Return to base immediately!"
The clouds continued to grow until the skies lashed with lightning. The lightning did not touch the buildings in Oured, but the coming storm started to grow intense across the sky. The clouds were swirling, shifting from clockwise to counterclockwise. Suddenly, a shape started to take shape through the clouds. It was barely visible, but the shape was small.
Blaze looked on curiously, trying to ascertain the shape that was now starting to turn away inside the cloud. Suddenly, an alert on his radar sounded. He looked down at it in alarm, his worst fears realized. He did not need to hear it from AWACS. "Warning!" he shouted. "Inbound missile, 12:00! Blaze, you're right in the middle of that thing!"
"Captain!" Edge shouted. Blaze recognized Edge's warning tone. It was the same tone she had used when Captain Bartlett saved her life as a missile screamed toward her plane during Operation: Gyre. That had been a simple mission involving UAVs. Bartlett was determined not to lose any more pilots on his watch and that act of nobility proved his point.
"Blaze, fox two!" A sidewinder whistled from his plane's wing toward the incoming missile. As soon as he launched the missile, he turned his plane in the opposite direction. He saw a blinding light for a brief moment, indicating the missile had connected. What he did not count on was while in the turn, both missiles exploded at the same time, with Blaze's plane somehow in the middle. As he tried to ascertain what was happening, he managed to make out the shapes of his squadron.
Then his plane was enveloped in blinding white light.
All around Blaze was white. Was the storm over? Were these cumulonimbus clouds? He checked his instruments, but they were still temporarily inoperative. His radar was also inoperative, but he kept his head on a swivel, curiosity and unease on his calm face. The sky, if he was still in the sky, was deserted. He looked below his plane's wings and saw no buildings. Oured was gone. But how was that possible? Where was he, if he was not over the skies of Oured? Yuktobania? Waldreich? It would have made sense if he was near Waldreich, except that there were no mountains as well.
Slowly, the white started to dissipate. Blaze heard a faint crackle from his radio. "Ca... tain! Do you re... ad... Bl... aze.. C... ome... n!" Though fading in and out, there was no mistaking Edge's voice.
"Edge!" Blaze answered, hoping his voice was getting through. "EDGE!" But all he got for his trouble was static on his radio. "Dammit!" As he flew, the surrounding area started to thin out. Below him, there was a giant circle and lush mountain range. Judging by the size of the circle, it looked to have more than a 400 kilometer radius. Where ever he was, the view was breathtaking. He looked down at his radar for his position. 22° 53' 37"NL, 234° 19' 32" EL. Then his radar was filled numerous shapes. Fighters. But were they friend or foe? They were crisscrossing over one another at a rapid pace. He looked up ahead and saw missiles and 20mm gunfire lash out at the same planes. "This is Razgriz 1 to any friendly squadron! If you're friendly, escort me to Hierlark Base immediately!" The only response were rapid swooshes as missiles rocketed by, just missing his fighter.
"Where the hell am I?" Blaze silently asked. Then he heard a heavy voice followed by others on his radio.
"Incoming message from Allied Forces HQ," the voice said. Blaze perked up, anticipation building as he listened. That was fast, he thought mentally. The next words they said were a surprise to him. "Forty percent of allied air forces have already been lost!"
Allied air forces? Blaze silently repeated.
"Dammit!" a pilot hissed, clearly disappointed. "There's too many of them! We can't handle all of them!"
Alone, you can't, Blaze thought, But with my help, you can. Just tell me who the enemy is.
Another pilot quickly asked, "Where are the reinforcements!?"
That was Blaze's cue to fly into the fray, his eyes scanning his radar as his IFF picked up several enemy fighters already closing on his position. It was about fifty planes, total in the area, and two SU-27s were closing. He looked up above and saw two F-15 Eagles maneuvering in unison, obviously heading into the chaotic fray. No missiles had touched their craft as they seemingly flew side by side. The large scale battle continued as the two continued onward in a synchronous ballet.
A cocky voice said to his wingman, "Time to dive into the fireworks!"
And dive in they did!
As Blaze watched the two Eagles scream past him, he followed after. His radar had yet to pick up any friendly forces in the air, and he still had no clue as to his current location. He checked his coordinates again. 22° 53' 37"NL, 234° 19' 32" EL. The numbers were so familiar to him. But he still could not remember from where. The airspace was crowded, that much was obvious, and it was hard to ascertain friend from foe. It reminded him of his mission over South Belka. There were enemy pillboxes and numerous aircraft over the city, trying to stop Razgriz from destroying the SOLG's control facility. The SOLG was also periodically lighting the sky with fire, but eventually that too was destroyed. To top off the fact that numerous planes were in the area, Captain Allen Hamilton, the former Adjutant Base Commander at Sand Island, was working with the Belkans in an attempt to destroy Razgriz.
A warning tone filled his radar, interrupting his rumination. Blaze had only a split second to react to the incoming missile and pulled his aircraft to the right at the last minute. The missile whooshed by, just missing his port wing. "Shit, that was close!" he exclaimed. He looked ahead and saw the two SU-27s passing by.
Blaze was flying on instinct and helping the allied forces. He twisted and rolled his jet with ease, and his hand hovered over the missile launcher. Two sidewinders launched from his craft and whooshed toward the nearby enemy. As soon as the two were destroyed, he launched himself toward the next target. "Hell of a shot, Nugget!" he heard a voice say. "These skies are as unforgiving as the Belkans!"
The voice sounded familiar. Blaze looked down at his radar for a moment, and saw an F-14D Tomcat flying alongside him. "Captain?" he asked, in bewilderment.
Ignoring Blaze's astonishment, the pilot of the Tomcat let loose a sidewinder. " Fox Two!" Then the Tomcat thundered to the right, back into the fray. As the Tomcat flew back down toward the battle, Blaze took a quick glance at his radar. The initials were unmistakable, and Blaze had to prevent from crashing when he saw them.
HRTBRK ONE
Oh my God, Blaze said silently.
The battle raged on for what seemed like hours. He kept his head on a constant swivel, while maintaining control of his craft. An enemy fighter suddenly got into his sights and he launched a sidewinder. In seconds, all that remained was a ball of flame, as he flew the wreckage unscathed. He then rolled his jet toward his next target, a fleeing MiG 27. His wingman was venting smoke, obviously from one of the allied craft.
"I've never been in an aerial battle of this scope before," an upbeat voice said. To Blaze, it sounded like Grimm. But Grimm was not here. Neither was Nagase or Snow. His radar was still a little cluttered, but he did not see their IFF signature on the radar. The one speaking to him according to his IFF was identified as Crow 3. Crow 3's flying was almost that of Grimm's. He flew as if he was still a pilot trainee, but there was a degree of calm when he flew.
"Crow 3, watch your six!" Blaze shouted, as he watched an enemy swoop in behind him. "Turn hard right, he's got a lock on you!"
"I can't die here!" Crow 3 answered.
"You won't!" the flight lead in the F-15 said. "Just don't bottle up!"
"Okay," Crow 3 answered. "I can do this."
"Turn hard right... now!" Blaze shouted just as the enemy fighter shot a missile toward Crow 3's plane. Just as Crow 3 turned, the enemy followed, and Blaze followed. As soon as they came out of the turn, Crow 3 turned left, dodging incoming gunfire. And it was then Blaze fired. "Your six is clear, Crow 3."
"P.J.," Crow 3 replied informally. "The name's P.J. Thank you, sir."
"Call me Blaze," Blaze replied. "You know, you remind of someone I know flying like that."
"Really?" There was surprise in his voice. "Who?"
"I'll tell you later. Now, let's get back to this fight, shall we?"
The two of them rolled in unison, then dove back into the fray. Working together, they cut through more fighters with ease. Blaze was in the lead, with P.J. slightly back and to the side as his wingman. "I fight for peace," P.J. said, his voice strong and confident. That's what I'm up here for."
"While you're up here fighting for peace, tons of blood is being shed on the ground," the cocky voice answered. "Some peace kid."
"And I'm here to put an end to that."
"You think you stop bloodshed by shedding more blood? Flying around with all those idea swimming around with those ideas swimming around your head will get you killed."
"Cut him some slack, Lead 1," Blaze said. "He's got a right to express himself."
Lead 1 sighed. "I suppose. But it's ideals like those that lead to us being here in the first place."
"Where is here, anyway?"
"This is B7R, Nugget. Did you fly yourself blind?"
"B7R?" Blaze repeated.
"The Round Table. It's Belkan territory, but ranks and affiliations have no hindrance here."
"And you are?"
And as if Blaze needed more shocks today, the cocky pilot introduced himself and his wingman.
"Second Lieutenant Larry Foulke, Callsign Solo Wing Pixy," Foulke said. "And my commander is Captain Marcos Kinkaid, Call sign Cipher."