Ace Combat: Angel Wings Chronicles
Angel One
December, 2003
Aurora Naval Base, Western Peninsula of North Point, 0810 Hours
It had been months since Los Canas had fallen to the invading forces from Erusea, and with each day that passed, news from the frontlines only depressed the morale of the Allied Forces as they were handed defeat after defeat by the enemy. The Erusian Air Force seemed nigh unstoppable; they racked up kills and more experienced pilots, while ISAF bled pilots and planes like a sieve. While Erusea was supposed to have suffered from the Ulysses Incident impacts as the rest of Usea, their industry and militarism gave them an edge in motivation and organization that was found lacking among ISAF's many member states. As such, their war machine seemed to execute faster than ISAF could react. Stonehenge was also another major factor, as many ISAF squadrons suffered heavy casualties before they were able to even engage their enemies. The satellite surveillance systems of the FCU that would have otherwise given early warning to the attacks were hacked and destroyed, also disrupting command and control in the process.
Ensign Solomon Davidson watched the muted TV screen inside his quarters as the Osean Broadcast Corporation continued to report on the war in Usea. They were showing a reporter at the scene of a naval battle taking place over control of Comberth Harbor. The FCU/ISAF fleet stationed there was just taking beating, as the Erusians had the numbers and momentum of battle on their side. Much of the ISAF fleet in port was sunk by enemy aircraft and missile fire from the enemy ships before they could even depart.
Solomon just rubbed his eyes. It had been several months since his flight leader had been hospitalized after their escape from Los Canas. Since that day, the whole ordeal continuously replayed in his mind, especially in his sleep. That and because of the failures of Operation Deep Cut, Usea had lost a valiant war veteran and was now paying the price with the Erusian continental blitzkrieg. Scarface Squadron had since been disbanded, as the flight leader, Phoenix was no longer able to fly, let alone lead a squadron in combat operations. When Solomon's home carrier, the White Valley reached Aurora Naval Base, Phoenix was transferred off the ship and to a military hospital in Aurora City. The doctors were able to save his life, but the damage done to his legs meant that he was confined to a wheelchair. Solomon expected Phoenix to be discharged, but the latter's dogged determination to serve, along with the deteriorating situation with the ISAF Air Force, landed him a new job as base commander at one of North Point's air bases. As for Davidson himself...
"Boo!" Two hands grabbed him by the shoulders from above his bunk.
"Agh!" On reflex, Solomon decked his assailant on the chin. The person on the upper bunk fell backwards, groaning in pain. Realizing who it was and what just happened, Davidson sighed and climbed up to check on his bunkmate. The man rubbed his smarting chin and glanced over at him.
"Ow... bit much now, isn't it, Seraph?"
"Darn it, Rico," Solomon 'Seraph' Davidson shook his head, "you know how I feel about people sneaking up on me."
His buddy and co-pilot, Rico "Cherub" Esposito, just smiled back at him. "Well now... at least we know that your killer instincts still work," he jested, "afraid that you'd grow soft."
"I wouldn't be if they'd let us start flying combat missions again," Solomon remarked, "while we're sitting on our butts here, our pilots on the frontlines are getting killed, and people on the mainland are losing their nations and freedoms to Erusea."
Rico just exhaled. "It's not like we can change the tide of the war overnight. Besides, we're two pilots who just happen to be without our own squadron now."
"There are many other pilots that are without their own squadrons right now too," Solomon mused aloud. Since coming to North Point, he saw this rather disturbing phenomenon only multiply as more and more surviving pilots made their way to the island nation. Entire squadrons were being represented with last survivors, while some of those lucky enough to have more than one faced re-shuffling as GHQ sought to maximize their severely diminished forces.
"If only we had been faster and stronger against Sergei Brynner..." Solomon mused.
"What's the point? It's already a done deal, man," Rico groaned. His pilot was still going on and on about how they could have saved Phoenix and his legs, and how they would have been flying deep penetration missions into Erusean territory instead. Sure, Phoenix was also his teacher, and he cared for his best friend, but it was starting to wear on him a little. "Look, mopping around about it isn't going to help. Besides, don't you remember the belly-aching those techies gave us over over-stressing the airframe from those maneuvers you were pulling?"
It was then that Solomon perked up. "Of course! How could I have missed it!?"
'Oh boy...' Rico thought. Once Solomon had an epiphany, there was no stopping him. More likely than not, it was something outrageous.
"Buddy, are you sure about this?" Rico was almost having to run to keep up with Solomon who was marching towards Captain Wilson Liam's office in excitement. They did not even start the morning with breakfast.
"Come on, Rico," Solomon insisted, "Liam's an old friend of Phoenix. I'm sure he'd be willing to listen to his squadron number two."
"Former squadron," Rico pointed out, "Scarface is history man."
"Then I say that we write a new one." When the two reached the door, Solomon rapped his knuckles on it.
"Enter!" An authoritative voice came from within. Solomon looked to Rico, who simply shrugged in uncertainty. Nevertheless, the former Scarface pilot took the leap and opened the door.
"Ensigns Davidson and Esposito reporting, sir!" Solomon rendered a salute as he entered, with Rico stumbling a bit after him. Sitting at his desk was none other than Captain Liam.
"Ah, Seraph and Cherub," Liam smiled, referring to them by their callsigns. The XO was also present, but he looked a little miffed that the two junior pilots were approaching the captain so openly. Liam warmly returned the two salutes with his own. "What brings you two here this morning?"
"Captain," Solomon was to the point, "I wish to file a request for my F-14 Tomcat to be customized to my specifications. As it stands, I'm finding that it's not responding fast enough to my control."
Rico looked over to the XO, who was giving Solomon the withering glare. "A mere ensign piloting a custom ace aircraft," he was indignant, "who do you think you are!?" Rico began to sweat a little.
"Captain," Solomon continued, "I wasn't fast enough to keep up with Brynner in combat over the coast that day. It was because of that, Phoenix ended up paying the price with his legs. I'm asking that I be given a chance to redeem myself."
"Look junior," the XO was really mad, "if you think you can just barge in here-"
"Enough," Liam interrupted with a wave of his hand. He looked Solomon straight in the eye. "I reviewed the gun camera footage of your skirmish with that Typhoon over the southern coast. Obviously, you had trouble with your plane just barely keeping up with the Typhoon's superior mobility, yet I can tell that you have great potential as a pilot."
"Sir?" The XO was a little surprised, but the captain continued.
"I personally see nothing wrong with your request," Liam said, "I grant you permission to direct the mechanics to tweak your plane as you wish."
"Thank you very much, sir!" Solomon reciprocated with a salute, with a surprised Rico following his cue.
Captain Liam then smiled warmly. "I also hope that you'll have a new coat of arms ready for your plane. We are in need of heroes, Ensign."
"I won't let you down, Captain," Solomon accepted, "once again, thank you very much."
With that, Solomon and Rico were allowed to leave. The co-pilot still could not believe what happened.
"Thank goodness that the captain accepted," Rico sighed in relief, "I was afraid that we'd be given a talking down to."
"You didn't have to come with me, you know," Solomon pointed out with a quizzical expression.
"Oh no," Rico refuted, "I'm your co-pilot, rain or shine. Someone's gotta watch your six, you troublemaker."
Solomon groaned at the name-calling. Inside however, he was proud to have a faithful WSO by his side in the F-14.
February, 2004
West of North Point, 1015 Hours
"Mayday, mayday. This is Theta 1, Aurora Base, do you copy!" The ISAF pilot and his four wingmen sped as fast as they could back towards the city's coastal defense perimeter, trying to escape four Erusian fighters that had ambushed them. Even with their afterburners going, the allied F-4 Phantoms were hardly capable of out-distancing the Mirage 2000Cs.
"We're under attack by Erusian fighters, requesting immediate back up!"
"He's on my six!" One of the trainee pilots was panicking as he tried to shake off one of the enemy planes.
"Be advised Theta Team," Aurora Base's controller came in, "we've got an interceptor inbound to assist. Hold out until he arrives."
Theta 1 was floored by what he just heard. They were sending in just one plane to help them out. Apparently, they could not be bothered enough to send a regular intercept squadron to help out some rookies trying to get the stick. "Screw this..." He turned back towards the Mirages, intending to tangle with them.
"Theta 2 through 4," he ordered, "go on ahead, I'll take these guys and buy you all time!"
"Theta 1, that's suicide!" However, Theta 1 just barreled towards the pursuers, firing two missiles at one of the Mirages. The Erusian dodged by outturning the missiles. Another then swooped in with gun blazing. Theta 1 turned away, but a few of the shells hit his left wing, causing the aircraft to jolt.
"Shoot!" The ISAF pilot saw smoke coming from the wing. The plane also felt harder to move as the ailerons were less responsive. It was then that he found himself in the sights of a third Mirage behind him. His warning tone spiked as he was locked on to. He grunted and closed his eyes, ready for his demise.
However, it was then that the Erusian pilot saw a flash of white above him. Before he had a chance to react, a missile went towards the middle of his fuselage and detonated, causing the Mirage to break in two. The pilot and the cockpit instantly broke into pieces. Theta 1 looked back in shock at what just happened.
It was then that the rescuer broke out of the clouds and dove towards the battle. Theta 1 saw that it was an F-14 in white and grey splinter camo. The Tomcat zipped past two of the enemy planes, causing them to flinch from its sonic boom. It then made an unexpected split S as it began chasing one of the Mirages. "It's fast!" Theta 1 had never seen an F-14 that maneuverable at such speeds.
"Theta 1, this is Angel 1 from the 4th Fleet. Your guardian angel is here," Seraph beamed confidently as he chased after the enemy in his sights. As the Mirage banked hard right, Seraph applied the breaks and made a higher G turn, overtaking the Mirage's turning radius. He fired his Vulcan gun, with the tracers leading ahead of the target and shredding the left wing to pieces. The hostile aircraft plummeted in an uncontrolled turn towards the sea.
"This plane is incredible," Cherub marveled, "it's like a completely different bird altogether!"
The two remaining enemy planes regrouped and gave pursuit to Angel 1. Seraph simply smirked and thrust the throttle forward. Cherub was slammed back into his seat as the custom F-14D accelerated well beyond the original specs. "Hurk!" Cherub clenched his teeth, while Seraph continued to smirk excitedly. Angel 1 went into a steep climb, as the Mirages struggled to keep up.
It was then that Seraph stalled and flipped the aircraft on its tail, the new fly-by-wire controls and avionics enabling what would otherwise be impossible for the Super Tomcat. The Mirages overshot Seraph, and as he leveled out, he selected two AMRAAMs equipped to his wing pylons. Getting a lock onto the Erusians, Angel 1 fired the two mid-range missiles. With the improved radar, the missiles quickly homed in and destroyed both aircraft, which then left flames and smoke in their wake as the ocean met them.
"Angel 1 to Control," Seraph reported in, "splash four FEAF fighters. Say again, splash four. Theta team is clear."
"Roger Angel 1," the Aurora Base controller accepted, "excellent work."
Seraph then counted the number of planes left in Theta Team's formation. Seeing that all four pilots were accounted for, Seraph exhaled in relief.
"Angel 1, this is Theta leader," the other ISAF pilot greeted, "thanks for the assist."
"Just glad to be of help," Seraph replied, "I'll escort you back to base."
As the five ISAF planes flew back towards the coast, one of them noticed the winged emblem on the tail of the F-14D. It had an angel's halo, with a smaller angel figure in the center of the golden aegis.
END
And thus, Angel Wings' journey begins...