AN: ... Hey. So, here we are again, at the start of a journey that takes place in the awesome world of Strangereal. This novelization will cover the events leading up to and covering the Belken war. I really hope you enjoy what I've got in store for you all, I know I've enjoyed the time I've taken writing what's here so far. So, without further delay, I give you the first chapter of Counting My Zeros.
Narwhal's In The Desert
"Your results are most pleasing, as well as surprising," the Prince in front of me said with his strange accent that seemed to make him sound like a snake. "If you had asked me three months ago who would've been leading our Air Force against the Sect of Ulijusy, my last answer would've been two mercenary pilots."
"And if you had asked me three months ago where I planed on being, my last answer would've been the Prince's Palace," I replied, gesturing to the luxurious open air dwelling we were currently speaking in. The prince followed my gesture with his eyes, a smile growing on his face as a soft chuckle escaped his mouth.
"Yes, well, I think we can both agree that things worked out for the better." I nodded and took a sip of water from the bronze goblet I had been offered. A slight warm and arid breeze came up from the bay we were overlooking. The Prince looked behind him catching the attention of one of the many black suited, armed guards stationed all over the Palace. After a subtle head movement, the guard came to our table with a silver platter that had nothing but a manila folder on it. I nearly shook my head at the opulent display, but doing so would've been an offense punishable by… whatever the Prince felt like doing, probably.
"We are close to smothering these blasphemers, Takuma. I can feel it with the air I breath during my morning prayers. Our scouts have tracked the remaining resistance to an outpost in Naseem. They have only a fragmented force now and our latest reports say they have only six functioning fighters. But there are also murmurs among the locals of Naseem that they've managed to hire a mercenary group of their own with what little funds they have left."
That got me to put down my bronze cup.
"Do you know what group?" I asked. Sure, me and Larry were one of the best merc groups out there, but we were just two pilots. There are limits to what two people can do against six well trained adversaries.
"I'm sorry, but our scouts were unable to discover the identity of the group."
"I'm sure they'll fall like the rest," I responded, quick to maintain the image of superiority the Prince seemed to think I earned.
"But of course," the man replied with a large grin. It was one of the more… troubling features this countries leader had. He was no older than twenty seven and his child like fascination with war was disturbing. As soon as Larry and I had collected our final check from the Sotoa Prince, I would make it a point to stay out of the entirety of the Far West, its back stabbing culture making me too paranoid to make the lucrative money worth it.
"This folder contains all the intelligence we have for the mission we'll be conducting five hours from now. I'll leave it in your possession so you can prepare yourself and your partner for the final strike against those who deviate from the One True Way."
I bowed as I picked up the folder and stood up from the table.
"Thank you, Prince Jamaal. May He smile upon you," I replied, using the phrase I had been told to use every time I left the presence of the Prince.
"Raise your head," the Prince replied with an all too jovial smile. "For He smiles upon us both on this day."
Once I had left the over-bearing gates of the Palace, I released a sigh of breath that I had been holding since entering. Sotoa was about as lawless as the world got, promising both riches and death in equal measure. Larry had been the one who selected this job, constantly bringing up the ludicrous pay off. At first, I had though the amount to be a hoax, no one paid that much for mercenary pilots. But then they gave us the advance. Even though it was only twenty five percent of the total, it was more than our last four jobs put together. But with that one payment, we were essentially imprisoned until we completed our end of the deal. One doesn't steal from the Prince of Sotoa, after all. If they do, the tend to die… very slowly.
"What did the Boss have to say?" Larry asked casually from the shade of a building he was leaning against just outside the gate, bringing a welcome end to my morbid thoughts.
"Baka!" I replied quickly and harshly with wide eyes, quickly looking around to see if anyone had heard Larry's insult to the Prince. "Do you realize what could happen to us if the right people heard you say that?"
"Oh, come on man. The dude practically thinks we're his bros! He wont let anything happen to us and I'm sure he'd like the name anyways," Larry said waving his hand dismissively at my very real concerns. This was why I always insisted on meeting the Prince myself despite my aversion to the young man. "What's in the folder?"
"Intel," I replied simply as I turned and left Larry leaning on his wall. I had only been outside the Palace's shade for fifteen minutes and already my clothes were beginning to be drenched in sweat. Another reason to leave and never come back the Far West.
"Aw, come on, Umi!" Larry shouted after me.
"I told you to stop using that name."
"Aw, come on Umi, don't be so cold."
"Trust me, I'm not. This heat is horrible. Besides, just because some locals can't say my name right doesn't mean you have to join in with them. You were perfectly capable of saying it right before we came to this place."
"Man, if I had known this place would put such a large stick up your ass, I wouldn't have chosen it," Larry complained as he came up and walked at my side.
"Liar," I quickly replied.
"Got me," my friend quickly admitted. "Too much money not to choose it."
"Well if the mission goes right today, we'll finally have the rest of all that money and be gone by midnight."
"Wait… For real?" Larry asked, breaking his laid back attitude for a moment and grabbing my shoulders in excitement. "You're not shitting me?"
"Five hours from now, the Prince will have us engage the last of the Sect of Ulijusy over Naseem," I began, failing to keep my smile from showing with Larry's excitement finally infecting me.
"YES!" Larry shouted, making a noise of euphoric joy that the Prince back at the Palace probably heard. "GOD, it's been forever since I've been this happy for something," Larry said as he regathered himself.
"Yes, I think that's an accurate statement," I replied as I removed myself from Larry's grasp and continued towards the airfield the Prince had given us to use just outside the city.
"Aw, come on man," Larry said, once again joining my side. "At least act a little excited. Don't you miss normal food?"
"… Some good pizza would be nice."
"Right!? And how about those fancy toilets and showers we used to use? Do you miss those?"
"Larry, I miss plain old clean water," I admitted, finally letting his over exaggerated attitude wear off on me. It had been too long since we had just goofed off like this, the conservative society of the country we were in preventing such frivolities.
"I know!" Larry said, his smile only growing as I joined in with him. "But man, the one thing that's been killing me has been the-"
"Women," I finished for him. There were strict rules for the women here, and most of them involved them being kept out of sight or covered up if they had to go out. It did things to a man's mind, not being able to see more than a woman's eyes for months.
"Don't worry. Once we leave this place, we'll find some nice Brasalium girls," Larry said while looking longingly at the sky.
"You're overly fascinated with the women from that country," I said, laughing a bit at my wing mates expression.
"Hey, they're shapely and tan."
As we came on base, I saw another one of Larry's 'types'. This woman had been taken with Larry as soon as we had entered the gentleman's club on the outskirts of the city near the airfield. She was one of the belly dancers that the joint seemed to pride themselves on, and she always seemed to be waiting for Larry whenever we came back from a meeting with the Prince. I rolled my eyes as Larry went over to speak with her and made my way towards the barracks he and I were using.
As soon as I walked into the small brick room, I turned on the ancient looking air-conditioner, praying it would last just a couple more hours until we were able to leave. I opened up the folder the Prince had given me earlier and read over all the information that was available. I had to hand it to this guys scouts, for not having the technology that some countries had, they had very detailed reports of troop movement and strength. I looked at the photos of the enemy air units, trying to see if I could get any hint as to who this rival mercenary group we would be faceing might be. The only thing I had to go off of was a picture of a narwhal on the tail fins of six enemy aircraft, MiG-29's by the looks of it. After staring at the photo for ten minutes, I finally leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. Staring wouldn't let me know who they were. We'd just have to go in and hit them hard and fast like we always did and hope it'd be enough.
I decided to check on our planes, hoping the distraction would be enough to reset my mind and get me ready for the mission. The improvised hangar's for Larry's and my aircraft were basically large semi-circles of corrugated steel. But that was really all that was needed besides the intake and exhaust plugs for this hot and arid environment. I would've preferred a fully enclosed hanger because of all the sand, but with both the plugs and the Prince's diligent mechanics doing their jobs, our planes continued to outperform the rag-tag cult that had risen against the Prince.
I really hadn't bothered myself with the details of this conflict, as was true with most jobs Larry and I took. We were in it for ourselves; After all, governments, no matter how democratic they may be, or claim to be, will always be inherently corrupt. Maybe not every leader is a bad apple, but every barrels got them.
I climbed up into the cockpit of my F-15C, instantly relaxing in the oddly comfortable ejection seat. I pulled a cassette player and head-phones from my pocket and zoned out, letting the rock tunes that I had all but memorized during the last three months block out the noise around me.
I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder, jostling the head-phones I had been wearing off of me.
"Ready to go yet?" Larry asked from beside me.
"You?" I replied, wiping my mouth to make sure I didn't drool during my nap.
"Yup. The Prince's guy's are already lining up on the runway. Here," Larry finished, handing me my helmet as I put my cassette player into a tight pocket to keep it from banging around.
"Thanks. Did you read the intel this time?"
"Nope." Larry said as he jumped down and retracted the ladder on the side of my plane, locking it into place.
"You know, one of these days both of us aren't going to read it and we'll get shot down or something."
"Phft, like you could ever not read the mission briefs," Larry yelled with a wave of the hand as he ran off to his plane.
"Whatever," I muttered as I craned my head to see if Larry had taken out my intake and exhaust plugs. Seeing that he had, I reminded myself to get him something good for his birthday this year. I began the start-up of the aircraft and locked down the canopy as my engines roared to life, putting a predatory smile on my face.
"Any problems with start up?" Larry asked over the radio.
"Nah, you?"
"Nope."
"Copy that. Let's roll out."
"After you," Larry replied. If there was one thing I liked about Sotoa, it was that we could taxi whenever we wanted. No control tower or anything telling us what to do. Some might say that's dangerous… and they'd be right. But Sotoa wasn't known as the wild west for nothing. After playing chicken with some planes on the runway, Larry and I were in the air on our way towards Naseem.
"So, what do those Ulijusy people got in store for us today?" Larry asked as he came up on my left wing.
"Apparently they were well funded enough to hire some mercenary pilots in a last ditch effort to put up as much resistance as they could."
"What group?" Larry asked quickly.
"Don't know. All the scouts were able to find out was that the planes were MiG-29's with a narwhal on their tail fins."
"…"
"Larry? Do you know who they-"
"HA-HA-HA!" I winced as Larry's voice filled my radio channel. "Fricken' narwhal's! Who fricken' chooses narwhal's as a symbol?! You're joking, right? And they're in the middle of a fricken desert!"
"Yeah, well, regardless of what their symbol is, they're still flying six Fulcrum's," I said, trying to keep a straight face. Now that Larry was bringing it up, it was sort of funny.
"Right, right… it's just… they really got narwhal's?" Larry asked as he calmed down a little.
"Yeah," I said simply, shaking my head a little as the man breathed deeply to calm down a little more.
"I can't wait to see these guys. Narwhal's. That's going in the book."
"What book?" I asked as the sun continued to sink. It would still be four hours till sunset, but with each minute, the sun became more and more of an obstacle to any possible dogfight. With no clouds in the dry sky, our enemies were likely to utilize our closest star as much as we were to conceal themselves from visual contact.
"It's a journal of sorts. I keep all our important accomplishments in it. Dificult enemies we've fought, rich people we've made happy, rich people we've pissed off, countries we're heroes in and countries were banned from. Got a note or two in there about which places have the best ladies."
"Sounds like quite the compilation."
"Yeah, been thinking about selling it to World Traveler or something." Larry and I continued to chat all the way to our mission area, we always had been pretty talkative before missions. And during them. And after… we always had been pretty talkative. Which was strange, for me at least. Part of the reason me and Larry were friends was because of how un-talkative I could be.
Growing up, I had been pretty ostracized because of my islander heritage and the Belken's general dislike of anyone not Belken. Despite his aristocratic family background, Larry was the first person to ever really do more than sneer at me. We were both crazy about flying, becoming members of a gliding club a local airport had. By the time we were legally able to do so (and a little before), we were piloting powered aircraft like we had been born inside them. We promised each other to make it into the Flugmeister Akademien together, constantly pushing each other to be the best we could be in all thing pertaining to getting into the prestigious school. We both had top marks in school and were some of the most physically fit people in our neighborhood. But when the acceptance letters finally came, only one of us, Larry, got accepted.
Surprising nearly everyone, including me to an extent, Larry had rejected the acceptance to the pilot school, saying he wouldn't be part of a school that discriminated based on race. With his family's ties to Gründer and his inheritance, he was able to get two F-15C's straight from the aircraft manufacturer and we had flown together since.
"Coming into mission airspace," Larry announced with a hint of anxiousness. "Friken' Narwhal's man, I can't wait."
"Galm team, this is Molvic team leader of his-"
"Yeah, we got it, you're with us. Get to the point."
"… Scout's reported that there are only two anti-air positions and any SAM's will be shoulder launched."
"Copy that, Molvic lead. Pixy and I will try and take out those enemy planes before they can take off and deal with any that manage to get into the air."
"Understood," responded the allied craft. Four Mirage III aircraft broke off from Larry and I and went to engage any significant ground resistance. As we came closer to where the six Fulcrum's were supposed to be, I felt more and more excited. Every time I fought was when I felt the most alive. When every sense was heightened to a point where you thought you were superhuman. Added to that was the knowledge that after this mission, Larry and I would finally get to leave and return to civilization.
"You ready?" Larry asked me, reeling me back in.
"Let's do this." We dropped our altitude to under five hundred feet, getting ready to come over a large hill and wreak havoc on any parked planes that would be at the airfield ahead in a surprise attack. However, the only thing on the other side of the hill was an empty airfield occupied with at least ten anti-air batteries.
"SHI-" I shouted before cutting myself off with a sharp break, barely missing the hundreds of rounds that came flying at me.
"What the hell?!" Larry yelled out as we darted in and out of streams of tracer fire.
"What is this?! There wasn't supposed to be that many batteries! And where are those fricken' Fulcrums?!" I shouted at my radar. Suddenly, my HUD lit up with lock on warnings.
"Found the Fulcrums!" Larry shouted over a similar wine in the background of his transmission. I repressed the urge to respond as I focused on maneuvering out of my crappy position. Low altitude was great for surprise attacks, but when the enemy had the jump on you, nape of the earth maneuvering tended to result in dead pilots. I pulled back on the flight stick, engaging the Eagles powerful after-burners to gain some altitude and speed. As I rocked around in my rocket, I looked around for some Narwhal's. I quickly found them, three behind me and three chasing down Larry a couple thousand feet away.
"Larry, I'm coming to sanitize your six."
"Copy, I'll be glad to return the favor as soon as I can." I pulled back on my stick some more, coming to an inverted flight towards the enemy. I let off the throttle just enough to cut the after-burner in an effort to conserve some fuel and armed my Phoenix missiles, trying to get a solid lock as I maneuvered out of the path of bullets coming from both the ground and the enemy planes behind me. As soon as I heard the solid tone, I launched the missiles.
"Phoenix missiles on your way," I shouted as I pulled away from my three pursuers.
"Two down," Larry called out, his alarm still going off in the background. "Third guy got out of the way. He's on his way towards you, but so am I. Hold on."
"Don't really got a choice," I replied, grunting as I pulled out of a steep dive that brought me back below a thousand feet. "Gah, that was close," I muttered as I cut out of the way of more tracer rounds coming from the runway.
"Keep stringing them along, I've almost got a lock."
"Hurry up with it," I whined as cannon rounds continued to come close to my aircraft.
"Phoenix missiles launched," Larry shouted as I pulled back up into the sky. "Damn, that Narwhal's no slouch," Larry muttered.
"How many are left?" I asked checking my radar as I asked.
"One, and he's the same guy who avoided you're volley."
"Let's tag team him and get this done with," I suggested, forming up with Larry as the enemy pilot circled back around for an attack of his own.
"Got it. You go high, I'll go low. I'll initiate and you get lined up."
"Uhn," I agreed. We accelerated towards the approaching Fulcrum, splitting our separate ways as soon as the guy began firing his cannon. As I continued to fly straight, Larry circled around to begin following the MiG. After a couple of seconds of holding my flight path, I too began to circle back around and look for the two pilots.
I wasn't alone in terms of feeling alive in combat. It was another reason me and Larry got along so well. We were both addicted to the same drug. I watched as he followed the closely matched Fulcrum, their movements like a fox chasing a rabbit in the slowly reddening sky. Every change in direction the MiG executed was mirrored with finesse by Larry's Eagle. Every so often, a few bright streaks would flare from just behind the cockpit of Larry's plane to just skim past the Fulcrum, disappearing into the sky far beyond. I nearly didn't hear when Larry called me in to finish up the job.
"Damn, he's too all over the place. Takuma, give him everything you've got that can track him."
"Purging payload," I responded, arming all the missiles my aircraft was loaded with and launching them simultaneously. The MiG quickly banked right temporally forgetting about Larry. Larry just let the guy try and shake the missiles while he set himself up for a better shot.
"There we go," Larry muttered as he found his optimal firing position and let his cannon fill the plane with holes before my barrage of missiles came in and obliterated the plane. I could hear Larry take in a deep breath of air before releasing it in a satisfactory sigh. "Now that… was a good way to end this trip."
"Agreed. Now, let's get back, collect, refuel, and go home," I responded, making our heading for the airfield we had been stationed at for the past three months.
"Galm, this is Molvic lead. Has the Narwhal group been dealt with?"
"Let's just say Takuma and I may be called whaler's now," Larry replied.
"… I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean."
"The Sect's Air Force has been dealt with. The Narwhal group has been neutralized," I translated for the man.
"Ah, I see. That is most pleasing. The Prince is sure to give praise with this news."
"Yeah, and he'd better give us our remaining seventy five percent too," Larry pointedly reminded.
"Yes, yes, the Prince does not forget those who preserve The Path."
"God," Larry said over the private channel. "I will not miss that either." We landed just as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. The whole airfield was celebrating with cheap Christmas lights hanging all over the place and people smoking exotic substances and drinking alcohol that was too strong for me to even try and sip. Someone brought us into a room that had a working computer to show us that our bank accounts were now significantly larger.
"You ready to get out of here?" I asked Larry as we walked out of the room.
"Yeah, just about. I've got to say… 'goodby' to someone though," Larry replied, waging his eyebrows to let me know what he meant in case I didn't catch his horrible euphemism.
"Every time…" I muttered as he walked off towards where his belly dancer would be. I decided to head over to our planes and make sure they were topped off for our trip to Brasalium. We would still have to top off somewhere in Usea to make the whole trip, but extra fuel never hurt anyone.
Except tonight.
"TAKUMA!"
"Larry?"
"TAKUMA! DISCONNECT THE PLANES FROM THE FUEL!" Larry yelled as he ran full speed at me, moving his hand across his throat like he was decapitating himself.
"What? What do yo-"
"FRICKEN' DISCONNECT THAT SHIT NOW!" My heart began to race I quickly hit the emergency shut off valve and detached the hoses from the fueling ports on the Eagles. Larry didn't once slow down as he rushed through the crowd towards me and hurriedly told me to get into the planes and take off.
"Larry, what's going on?" I asked as soon as my radio was working and I was in my cockpit.
"Uhh… you know that belly dancer?" Larry said distractedly as he frantically switched various interfaces inside his cockpit. Finally, the roar of his plane joined mine as we began to taxi for the runway.
"The one that was always waiting for you?"
"Yeah, yeah her. Well, she was always asking all these weird questions, right?"
"What kind of questions Larry?" I asked, beginning to wonder how any of this was related to us leaving as quickly as we could. It was proving difficult as everyone was trying to get a look at the 'Hands of Destruction,' the name the Prince had given us in honor of destroying the cult that risen against him.
"Oh, you know, stuff like 'where are you going to attack,' and 'where do you get your fuel,'" Larry said nervously as we continued to try and push our planes through the crowds of people who didn't seem to mind standing next to a very loud jet aircraft. I was starting to worry one of them would get sucked into our air intakes when a huge explosion came from behind us. Where the refueling station had once been was now a mass of bright orange flames with thick, heavy black smoke.
"BAKA!" I yelled out as I realized what was going on. "BAKA, BAKA, BAKA, BA-"
"I KNOW! NOW LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Larry shouted as he finally gave up on the people in front of us and throttled aggressively, scaring the people who were still around away from our aircraft. As Larry and I hurriedly made our hasty take off, more explosions began to go off all around the city. Just as we climbed to three thousand feet, a massive detonation went off about where the Prince's Palace ought to have been. My heart was still pounding as Larry and I just circled around the bay twice and wordlessly made our way towards Amber in Usea.
"That's going in the book," Larry said after a long while.
"I won't need a book to remember that," I said after a while. Slowly, we worked ourselves into a nervous chuckle that allowed us to release some of the tension from the intensity we had just escaped.
AN: And there you have it, the Belly Dancer story from CotS's epilogue explained. I always planed on using that story to start this book and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Tell me what you guy's think so far! What are you looking forward to? As always, stay... exemplary!