A Black Tomcat for the Demon

by Luke Danger

The symbolism of aces is hard to miss, but is it just mere symbolism, or is there more to it? In 2020, as the events of the Circum-Pacific War are to be completely declassified, Albert Genette speaks once more with those he told the story of ten years prior. They will tell the world the true story of the Ghosts of Razgriz. The story of the aces, and of the demon within.

3. Chapter 2: Open War

"Did you know there are three kinds of aces? Those who seek strength, those who live for pride, and those who can read the tide of battle. Those are the three."

- Larry "Solo Wing Pixy" Foulke, Interview (November 11th, 2005)

September 25th, 2010

1013 Hours

60 Miles Southeast of Sand Island

"Blaze, Edge, Chopper, you three with us?" Pops asked.

"Wardog Four in position," Mason answered from the cockpit. It felt odd, being in Captain Bartlett's Phantom. Even odder was that he was still in the trail position while their lead plane was a Hawk, of all aircraft, flown by Grimm. An airman was the flight lead. If only because the instructor pilot was in said airman's back seat. After all, Pops was not finished with Grimm even though Bartlett wanted the pilot to get midair refueling training as soon as possible.

But even odder, at least to Mason, was the fact that he had a journalist behind him. He had half expected Colonel Perrault to countermand the decision Bartlett had made before Bartlett was forced to sit and listen to repeated lectures about rules of engagement that day. In fairness, Mason had told himself when he found out, we did engage without authorization.

"Okay, air-to-air refueling is a critical skill that you should never underestimate," Pops began as they could see the tanker craft on their radar. "You have considerable flight range, but with tankers, your flight range can go from Comona Island to Gracemeria… through Osea. Of course, you know all this already."

"We did the homework," Chopper retorted. "Do we get a sticker for doing it?"

Genette laughed from the back seat and Mason glanced back. It was odd, being in a two seater again. Even odder knowing that it just meant that he was the only pilot. Genette wouldn't know the throttle from the ejection system if he had to fly the plane. Fortunately, Bartlett's control scheme meant that Mason was the one who had full control over the plane, it was only given to the person in back when the main pilot gave their okay. And it could be seized back at any moment by the front seat.

"No, but you can always help paint on the decals to Edge and Blaze's planes," Pops retorted. They had not painted on their kills yet, and Edge had refused to allow Pops to add the Fulcrum from her first engagement two days ago.

I need to talk to her about that, Mason thought briefly before pushing the thought aside. That was not his job, that was for Bartlett to do. He was just a fellow squadron member, it wasn't his responsibility to make sure the others were in shape.

"ETA to the tanker is two miles, Pops," he reported as he saw the KC-10 Extender on the radar.

"Indeed, but we've got enough fuel to loiter and they're explicitly here for training. Don't worry though, these guys aren't new at the job."

"No we are not," another voice, a woman's, cut in. "Wardog Squadron this is the tanker aircraft Bovine. We're here to help get you acquainted with the procedures for refueling."

"Roger that Bovine," Pops answered, "This is Second Lieutenant Peter N Beagle, callsign 'Pops', standing in for Captain Bartlett."

"We heard," Bovine's captain answered. "Still, we've got enough drinks to go around. How does a nice bit of petro sound?"

Genette gagged in the back seat as Pops answered. "Sounds good. I'll connect first but do not release fuel, this is purely to show them how to do it. Grimm run all plane checks."

"Yes sir," the trainee answered. A few moments later he reported the checks complete.

"Good," Pops said, "My plane." The Hawk moved forward in the formation, approaching the tanker from behind as Pops took control. Bovine read out distance numbers as Pops gave an explanation.

"The critical part about refueling is that you need to maintain constant speed," Pops began. "The tanker will have its speed set already. Your job is to match it. You have to give it a little more to connect, but once you've connected you have to keep it steady. When you approach, put yourself just a bit faster than the tanker, and then when you are almost in position ease off on the throttle."

The Hawk was now in position to receive its refuel and the tanker extended its nozzle. "When it connects, you should be at their speed. Then you maintain it until the drink is complete."

"We're connected." Bovine reported.

"Good," Pops acknowledged. "Once they finish, they will disconnect. At this point, you need to ease off throttle and altitude to get away. Clear away immediately, and always go down. Never, under any circumstances, go up. Understood?"

A chorus of affirmatives later, the Hawk was disconnected and returned to formation. "Edge, you'll go first." Pops ordered.

"Roger that. Bovine, I am making my approach."

"Good," Bovine answered. "Take it nice and slow, and don't worry if you can't do it right the first time."

"So," Genette finally asked. "Blaze - it's okay if I call you that, right? I understand you prefer to avoid the last name."

"Blaze is fine," Mason answered as he felt his gut tightening. Here it comes, getting interviewed… why now, in the air? He somehow felt like it had something to do with the 'Heartbroken' comment he had made to Bartlett at the end of the engagement yesterday.

Genette nodded. "So, why did you join?"

He paused to consider his answer as Edge came in too slow and had to come around for another pass. "Well, I do plan on going career," he began. "I always wanted to fly, but we've got way too many civilian pilots and my mother forbid me from becoming a freelancer for say, Ustio."

That had always confused him, why his mother was so strongly against him becoming a mercenary pilot. It wasn't like he had to go take morally questionable jobs - ISAF nation states had been using mercenaries for years to augment their flying forces with only the normal collateral damage from warfare.

"So military was your only option?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, "but honestly, I'm okay with fighting battles." He paused as he realized the implications of what he just said as Edge was successful in connecting to the tanker craft. "I'd rather not have them happen, of course," he added.

"Of course," Genette said with a nod. "And don't worry, I'm not recording anything. This isn't a formal interview."

Not reassuring, he thought as Pops told Chopper to have a go at it. "Right. So yeah. I joined as a career path."

"What inspired you to join? A lot of people look down on career officers, saying that war is in the past."

"So we said fifteen years ago," Mason retorted as he fought to avoid rolling his eyes. "Look at what happened five years ago to the east. It's how we got the Grim Reaper as a super ace to fanboy over." So fanboyed over, that the first day in basic had Mobius One's sorties over Comona Island as footage to show what air combat was like.

"Fair enough. Though, how did you get the nickname?"

"Have you ever seen ice on fire?"

Genette shook his head as Chopper was moving too fast and had to cut into a dive to avoid a collision. "Careful, Chopper. Take it simple," Pops chided.

"Yeah. Anyways," Mason said to move past that embarrassing incident. "I wanted to be up here because I'm coming in trying to be ready. I came into the military expecting to go into combat. Better someone who wants to be here fighting than have to rely on people who don't want to. That just destroys a military."

"So you're here because you want to keep Osea's defense strong."

"Exactly. No comment about the ongoing argument of how large we need to be, but regardless of size Osea needs someone to protect it. Maybe we need a massive conventional army, maybe we just need a basic self defense force. I'll let the guys upstairs decide. Me? I'm willing to fight to defend Osea and I wanted to fly. That's all that I need there."

"Rather simple," Genette noted as Chopper managed to connect his plane successfully.

"Yeah, and no offense but it's my turn next." He had to concentrate.

"Of course," the journalist said as he stopped talking. Mason was almost certain he was committing their conversation to memory right then and there.

"Okay Blaze, bring her in nice and gentle," Bovine ordered. "Don't burn us all down, okay?"

Ha ha, he thought with an eye roll as he edged the throttle forward, hoping to glide it in nice and smooth. Stick to the fundamentals, he reminded himself as Bovine's captain was counting down the distance.

"Five hundred yards to go… four hundred yards to go… three hundred yards to go... two hundred yards to go…"

Mason eased down on the throttle. "One hundred yards to go… maintain current speed."

He felt the light thunk as the nozzle extended and connected to the refueling pipe. "Good job," Bovine said. "Okay, prepare to disconnect…"

"Grimm, you're up next." Pops ordered. "Bovine, be aware that he's doing this early so pay extra attention. I'm in the back seat if needed."

"Roger that. Blaze, disconnect."

Blaze nodded as the nozzle disconnected and he dropped the throttle all the way, letting the Phantom gently fall out of the sky before he brought the throttle back up and guided his plane to the right and returned to formation as the Hawk began a slow approach.

"So, anything else?" Blaze finally asked as he glanced back to Genette. "Tombstone data, maybe?"

The journalist chuckled. "Thank you, but I got that with the job package when I got sent here."

Mason wasn't sure whether to be creeped out that the military had sent that information to the press or glad that he wasn't going to be asking him for that stuff.

XXXXXX

1248 Hours

Sand Island - Mess Hall

Jack Bartlett groaned in the mess hall, face on the table.

"Captain?"

He glanced up to see Blaze taking a seat in front of him. "Ah, the Kid returns," he said with a smirk. "Everything went alright?"

"Yes sir. We managed to get through it two or three times each successfully before we came back. But sir, I have to ask…"

"Why did I put the journalist in the back seater with you?" He smirked for the first time that day. "Have a seat. And we're both off duty so don't worry about rank."

Blaze took his seat and Bartlett leaned forward over his mostly finished tray. "You're going career, Kid, and I've got every expectation that you'll go quite far. You'll have to deal with journalists at some point - no way to just brush them off."

"So you wanted me to get exposed to that early?"

"That, and he is writing an article on Wardog, so he does need to interview you guys at some point."

Blaze grumbled briefly but shrugged. "Alright, sir, fair enough. If I may, how was the reprimand?"

"The usual," he said as he shrugged. It had been Colonel Perrault yelling at him for a few hours with Hamilton occasionally adding some confirmation from the mission report but otherwise letting the oversized blowhard vent. "And like a good little dog I just sat there and took it."

"Well, we did engage without permission, though with a good reason."

Bartlett scoffed before smirking. "Well, at least you'll be more politically acceptable to the guys upstairs once this is all over. Maybe you'll have a good career after all."

"I hope so."

"Well, better go on, I'll be able to take you guys up in the air for a little dogfight practice tomorrow. Motormouth's going to need some."

Blaze stood and saluted. "Yes sir." Bartlett waved him away and waited a few moments.

"Oh, Kid?" he asked as he had turned away.

"Sir?" Blaze asked, stopping and turning around.

"Subordinates might have the wit, but superiors have the resources." He smirked as widely as he could as Blaze's face went from a confused look to a faint scowl.

"Yes sir," he said before walking off and Bartlett chuckled to himself. Kid has potential, he thought with a smirk. Loose enough to relate but not so loose that he'll end up like me.

XXXXX

1323 Hours

Sand Island - Crew Quarters

Kei glanced at the door as there was a knock. "It's open," she said and the journalist came in. "Genette?" she asked with a frown.

"Bad time?" he asked.

"No," she said as she closed her book and put it on the windowsill. "Let me guess, you want to ask some questions."

"That obvious?" he said with a faint smirk.

"Well, that's your job."

"Fair enough, and yes, I would."

She gestured to the chair lying by the bare wall. "Go ahead. It's a little hard, but it's a seat."

The journalist nodded, grabbing the chair and pulling it over before sitting down. "So, what would you like me to call you by? I know that Second Lieutenant Lamb prefers his callsign, but what about you?"

"Nagase is fine," Kei answered as she leaned back and wondered how much to share with the journalist. She did not want her life's story plastered on the news, but at the same time she felt like she had to share what it was like being thrown into combat. People needed to know what military action entailed.

Genette nodded. "So, Miss Nagase, why did you join the Air Defense Force?"

She gestured to her model of the Arkbird lying on the cabinet. "I've always been fascinated with space, and the Air Force does a lot of work in that area. Basset Space Center is technically under the the military's jurisdiction, after all."

"Inclined towards the sciences?" he asked. He had no notepad, but Kei could not shake the feeling that he was recording everything in his mind for later use or evaluation. To see what fit the story he wanted to tell.

"I'd like to study advanced physics and the like, that's true," she admitted cautiously. "But one step at a time. I need to do my service first."

"Of course, veteran's benefits and all. And still maintained after all the controversy of a military budget."

Kei shifted uncomfortably, but she felt like she shouldn't have. After all, he was just discussing part of the modern debate over the Osean Self Defense Forces - how much of a budget there should be. What benefits should be given to the soldiers who served. How big the military had to be, and what was the necessary standard issue to perform their duties.

"No comment," she finally said. "But I didn't join the military to kill people."

Genette paused, raising an eyebrow before schooling his face back to a neutral expression and nodding. "I understand. So, how did you get the nickname?"

"I spent enough of my spare time in the simulators that everyone said I was trying to get an 'edge' on the competition," she explained, air quoting her call sign and shaking her head. "No one said we were creative about it." Of course, her time in that had more or less ended thanks to Sand Island not having any and Colonel Perrault having no interest in what he considered 'dressed up video games'.

"Not a bad idea. It gives you a better chance to survive. I'd say it's paid off."

She stared at him coldly for a moment before reminding herself that he was not trying to take a shot at the dead. "Maybe it did, or maybe I was just lucky."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"I know," she said to cut him off. "But it's things like this that the public needs to be aware of when discussing what to do with the military, disarmament or increasing it's size."

Genette was about to say something when there was a knock. "Nagase," Blaze said. "We just got called to the briefing room. Apparently Perrault decided to add us to his shit list."

Kei groaned, but was unsurprised. "I'll be right out," she answered before turning back to Genette. "Sorry, but…"

"Duty calls," he said with a nod and stood up, offering a hand. "Sometime later, perhaps?"

"Maybe," she said with a shrug as she pushed herself up and shook.

XXXXXXX

The Next Morning

September 26th

0814 Hours

Sand Island - Mess Hall

"Lieutenant Davenport."

Chopper looked up and nodded as he saw the journalist walking up with his tray. "Hey; sorry you're stuck with us."

Genette shook his head as he sat down across from him. "It's okay, I'm here to write about you guys anyways."

"Well then," Chopper said as he reached for his fork and stuck it into one of the pieces of bacon on his plate, "ask away. And by the way, you can call me Chopper. Everyone does. Even me."

"Why? I mean, you have a name…"

"And that name was earned!" he stated proudly before biting down on the bacon.

"Alvin? How did you earn that?"

Chopper paused, looking at the journalist in surprise as he swallowed before he started laughing. "Nice. But seriously, I don't know why my mom named me Alvin. 'course, Blaze has it worse, but at least in school he could go by his first name no problem."

"I noticed that he prefers his callsign too."

"Mary's little Lamb here?" The memory of Bartlett's attempt to get Blaze's attention caused Chopper to smile.

"Yeah, I don't blame him," he said before scarfing down the other piece of bacon as he saw Nagase taking a seat a few tables away. The mess hall was mostly empty as the later day personnel were taking in the precious extra time to sleep, while anyone who was on duty had already gotten moving. "So, what do you want to know?"

"How about why you joined the Air Force," Genette suggested. "And no, I'm not recording this."

"Right," Chopper said as he put his fork down and drank some of his coffee. "Well, I definitely skirt the edge of the age requirement, but I managed to squeeze it."

"Yes, I noticed that your date of birth was…"

"Yeah, I'm almost thirty. A little old to start fighter pilot training, but I got in."

"Why join so late? Surely you had a career lined up."

"Go ahead and start on your food while it's hot; it's going to take a while," Chopper said as he took a bite out of his toast before putting it down. "Y'see, I never wanted to go military originally. I went into the workforce right out of high school - wasn't the brightest, but I'm not stupid either and college just wasn't possible financially. And well, the horror of those nukes was still fairly fresh in everyone's mind back then."

Genette nodded slowly as he briefly put down his fork, "And when pacifism was starting to hit full swing as the Belkan War's military inertia faded."

"Exactly," Chopper said with a nod, "so, military didn't occur to me as I worked at one of those lumber factories a couple miles south of Oured. Grow 'em to cut 'em and mill 'em as well, no need to go through the natural forests. And yeah, that's where 'Chopper' came from. As I said, that name was earned. I was good at the job."

"So why change?"

"Because I wanted to do something more," he answered with a shrug. Good as he was, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle doing the same thing day in day out in the same couple square kilometers with the same trees. "But college was still too expensive to actually get a degree in something that'd get me out of that area. And well, the military still offers plenty of college benefits to those who do their tours. So I signed up, and went for the Air Force. That way if I miss, I can't go too far down, right?"

"Essentially, you didn't want to be an infantryman."

"Guilty as charged," he admitted with a shrug. "Besides, I'm making the cut rather well." He continued with his meal and sighed. "Man I wish they'd give bigger rations. But noooo, I need to have a proper BMI…"

Genette glanced at Chopper's arms briefly. "Uh, how overweight are you?"

"Not that bad! I'm only eight-nine kilograms! Besides, they gave Edge extra!"

Genette glanced over and seemed to be seriously considering it as the only female pilot in Wardog was leaving the mess hall, having finished her breakfast while they had been talking. "Why is that anyways?"

Chopper paused as he realized where this had gone. Man I'm glad she was out of earshot! he thought desperately as he decided to move this conversation on. "Hey man, you don't talk about a woman's weight. Though usually it's the other way around…" he shifted uncomfortably. "Eh, let's move on, shall we?"

Genette nodded. "Let's." Before he could ask another question, however, a silence fell over the mess hall and Chopper felt his spine tighten as he saw the friends that bad news had brought. Colonel Perrault, marching his oversized frame into the mess hall.

Flanked by two security guards.

"Well well," Perrault said as he stopped behind the journalist. "Haven't you been busy chatting up my pilots?"

"That's my job, Colonel," Genette retorted as he turned. "And Lieutenant Davenport is not currently on duty."

"Follow these gentlemen back to your room, and stay clear of all our operations until told otherwise. Don't think your little excursion yesterday escaped my notice. Consider yourself quarantined to quarters, you're too inquisitive for your own good." Perrault said simply and Chopper had to fight down a shot back.

He's only doing his job, Chopper thought in annoyance as Genette paused and glanced at his food. "Am I allowed to at least finish my breakfast, or are you sending me to my room immediately?"

Perrault scowled and Chopper knew that was the wrong question to ask - legitimate a question as it was. "Immediately, snoop. Take him away."

The two guards glanced at each other uneasily before one walked forward. "Right this way, Mister Genette," he said as the other one grabbed the tray and they left, leaving Chopper sitting there.

"What are you staring at, nugget?" Perrault snorted. "Hurry up and eat, you're a soldier not a teenager." With that, he turned and walked away.

XXXXXXX

1313 Hours

Sand Island - Hangar A

As Kei was checking her plane, she glanced towards where Blaze was working on his and sighed. He was painting on his kills from the previous day, two Fishbed silhouettes.

"Something wrong?" a voice asked and she turned to see Pops standing there.

"No," she said as she checked the left machine gun again, doing the additional post-flight checks that Bartlett had them do to become more familiar with their planes' internal mechanics.

"You still haven't painted on your kills, the Fulcrum or the Fishbeds," the portly mechanic asked as he stepped over and nodded. "And your guns are fine; I'll grease the gears later when I do the nightly checkup."

"Okay," she said as she shook her head. "And I don't want to put my kills on. What's the point of it anyways? To brag about how many lives we've ended?"

"Not every kill results in someone dying," Pops pointed out. "In fact, if they were counting your dogfights today, all three of you would be aces."

"And being sent to our families in petri dishes," she pointed out. Their dogfight training that day had been mostly free form and going after each other. One-on-one, two-on-two, one-on-two, and so on with constantly mixing teams. It ended with a free for all that Chopper had won by letting her and Blaze engage each other as Bartlett was instead refereeing or providing advice.

"True," the mechanic admitted as he closed the hatch to the machine gun's components and glanced towards the other pilots as they were checking theirs. "But you all came home fine. Aren't you proud of some of the things you managed to do up there?"

Kei paused, considering some of the dogfights. She certainly was proud of managing to actually get on Bartlett's tail and get him worried… though Blaze had cleared her off his six before she could actually finish the job. "But that's different. That was training, and yes maybe a little competition. This wasn't murdering each other. We all came home alive. And even if I managed to beat the Captain, I wouldn't paint a Phantom on my fuselage. It was just a training thing."

"That's right. But you've taken down three enemy fighters in just two missions, and before your training was formally finished. Do you realize how impressive that is?"

Kei paused. She had never put much thought into that. She had just been trying to defend herself. But he was right: as trainees, they had done far better than they had any right to be. "Yes, I do," she finally admitted.

"And you did so in live fire situations when they were trying to reduce you to a statistic in world history. And you made them a statistic."

She recoiled. "I don't want to make anybody a statistic," she shot back coldly, "but I won't take pride in tearing apart families either."

Pops nodded. "Maybe. But you aren't the Demon Lord. The sight of the Wardog emblem on your fighter jet isn't going to cause a panic or get enemy jets to back off. But a fighter jet with kill paints on it… that'll draw people's attention and let them know that you're not a nugget who hasn't seen a fight. And the more kills on the side, the more intimidating you become. There's a reason why the term 'virgin' is still in Osean and Yuktobanian nomenclature for planes without kill markings on them."

"That's just as sexist to men as it is to women," she pointed out with a sigh.

"True, but then again there were Belkan women aces who put their own pin ups on." Pops smirked. "Fair is far, after all."

Her mind immediately went to the Belkan A-10 that had been captured and left at Heirerlark as a museum piece and smiled. "True," she admitted before wiping the smile off her face. "But that's a far cry from bragging about how many families you've taken a son, daughter, parent, or spouse from."

"But it is a mark of your skill," he said as he glanced towards Chopper's plane and sighed. "A pilot's choice of what they add to their plane always has a meaning. And why you put it on is more important than what you put on." He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Though, a lack of kills is a symbol too. And if that's the way you want to go, I'll make sure none of my crew adds it."

"Thank you," she said as she glanced towards the hangar door as Pops pulled his hand back and turned towards her fighter, tilting his head curious at the cockpit.

"Hmmm. You have any electronic problems when you were up there?"

"Just trying to lock onto Captain Bartlett during a training round, but that's probably user error," she explained. "Why did you ask?"

"Bartlett said he had some trouble with his too. Probably just the plane's age catching up to it, but it pays to double check."

She nodded. "Do you want some help?"

"Nah, I'm fine, this is precision work, not the stuff Bartlett expects you to be able to identify. It still works, so it's not critical, but it's best to make sure everything's well maintained."

"Alright, I'll go stow my flight gear then."

XXXX

The Next Morning

September 27th, 2010

1030 Hours

Sand Island - Briefing Room

"Sit down people, this isn't paradise," Orson Perrault ordered as he booted up the briefing system and brought up Sand Island's current radar scans, showing multiple contacts flying in a radius around Sand Island. The three trainees and their insubordinate captain simply sat down and watched the display quietly.

"We will now discuss Operation Gyre, which you will perform today to my exact orders," he said as he gave Bartlett as harsh a glare as he could. "Whoever's been poking their nose into our affairs was dumb enough to launch UAVs over our island to take pictures of us. I don't care who sent them - whether it's another nation or that journalist's friends in their stuffy offices - I want them shot down before they get back to the ship that launched them."

He adjusted the radar to show the vessel that had launched the UAVs - Unmanned Aerial Vehicles more commonly known as drones. "However, you are not permitted to fire on the ship unless I give the order, nor are you permitted to engage without permission. Am. I. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Bartlett intoned and the commanding officer of Sand Island glared at him.

"Don't do something stupid like you did two days ago, Bartlett. Now get to your fighters and launch!"

XXXXX

1113 Hours

Above Sand Island

"'We will now discuss Operation Gyre', oh gimme a break; what is this, a video game?" Chopper muttered, mimicking the colonel's mannerisms briefly.

"You're transmitting, Chopper," Kei warned as they entered formation as the control tower cancelled their altitude restrictions, flying towards the west of Sand Island's airspace.

"Point stands, we basically just scrambled!" Chopper retorted when another voice cut in.

"Wardog, this is Thunderhead: Unmanned recon drones returning to their spy vessel! You are cleared to engage the recon drones heading back to the ship. Take them all down!"

"Sure thing," Bartlett answered, "you got that gang?"

"Wardog Four, roger," Blaze answered.

"Wardog Three, roger!"

"Wardog Two, roger."

"Good! I'll keep watch out here, you three go play with those toys." Bartlett broke formation and went a few hundred feet above them and Kei looked at her radar and nodded. Eight UAVs on radar.

"Edge, engaging drones," she reported as she accelerated towards the first one and locked on before using her machine guns to take down a drone as Chopper followed her and took out the one next to it, also using guns. There was no point in wasting a missile on these.

"And there goes Blaze after the first set of three," Chopper commented as the other Tiger shot out towards the drones. "You better hurry or he'll be an ace first."

"I think it'd be unfair to count drones," Blaze responded as he got behind the drones and opened fire with his machine guns. "Though, at least there's no people in these things. No guilt over shooting them down, right?"

"True," she admitted as she broke towards the other flight of UAVs as Chopper went to get the ones Blaze missed. It was much easier to target the drones: it was just like basic training and the old barrage balloons from the forties they disposed of by letting trainees at them. No disturbing thoughts of the families they were destroying, the friendships being burned.

She locked on and fired, but before her shots connected the drone pulled a tight corkscrew that no human could survive and she overshot. "Be careful, the drones have tight maneuverability."

"Yeah, they really have some funky maneuvers," Chopper answered as Blaze shot another one down. "But jeez, first a spy plane and now drones? Anyone feel like something's coming?"

Kei paused as she considered the thought and adjusted her radar to check the ship that was supposed to be collecting the UAVs they were destroying. "Do you think others reached the mainland?"

"I sure hope not," Barlett commented as they finished off the last of the UAVs. "Let's search around for some more. Thunderhead, status on the enemy ship?"

"Ship is not confirmed to be hostile," Thunderhead explained as they formed up on Bartlett. "Stand by, we're conferring with High Command about how to proceed and are contacting the Coast Guard about getting some frigates out here."

"Until then keep the ship in our sights?"

"Exactly, Wardog Two," Thunderhead answered and they entered a holding pattern as they edged further into international airspace and waters.

"So, Captain," Blaze asked. "You flew with the Demon Lord, right?"

Kei perked up curiously at the question. They all knew about Bartlett's war history, so asking seemed odd until she wrote it off as a way to pass time.

"Next time bring a CD player or something," Bartlett commented before chuckling.

"Note to self grab rock-and-roll records," Chopper muttered.

"But to answer your question Kid; yes, I did. Once. Over B7R."

"The Demon Lord singled you out after the battle," Kei added. "What did you do to get his attention?"

"That's a long story and something for the ground, but to make it quick: I chased a couple Hornets off his ass and was in the fight until Schwarze showed up. At that point one of the new Belkan planes that showed up shot both me and Pops down. I guess I stood out enough that the Demon Lord noticed. Still surprised he commented; he never cared about what the regulars thought of him."

"How did the regulars view him anyways?" Blaze asked. "The way he's talked about today, you'd think he was an actual demon from the old legends."

"Wouldn't surprise me, but let's just say that we looked down on a lot of Ustio's irregulars. Hypocritically, at that. We did the same amount of collateral they did; heck we did worse. Hoffnung still looks like shit and Sudentor's economy still hasn't recovered from us sacking the city's history."

Kei winced as she remembered that. Osean police working in tandem with Assembly of Nations investigators were still trying to track down all the priceless historical artifacts from Belka's past that had been collected in the Sudentor Museum of Classical History and then looted by the Osean, Yuktobanian, and Sapin armies. They still found pieces occasionally, but so much had been lost, and not just Belkan history but also Osean, Aurelian, and even some relics from the nations west of Yuktobania like Sotoa.

The discussion of history was cut short, however, when their radars beeped and Thunderhead's voice came into the airwaves. "Wardog, incoming contacts closing fast!"

"Same attack axis as before?" Bartlett asked quickly as Edge checked the status of her fighter's missiles.

"Same as before, two-eight-zero," Thunderhead said and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. They were going to be killing and being killed again.

"Jeez how many planes do they have lined up at the border? We've only got four here!" Bartlett groaned. "We better abort. Fall back to Osean airspace. Thunderhead, keep an eye on them!"

Kei turned her fighter with the rest of the squadron as they headed back, watching the radar and frowning as she saw the Identify-Friend-Foe numbers of the four contacts. MiG-29 Fulcrums with familiar numbers. "Captain," she said, "are you seeing the IFF on those fighters?"

"Wait, are you saying…" Blaze started before Chopper cut in.

"The bastards who killed all our friends? Great… Thunderhead, what's the status on engaging?"

"No clearance yet," Thunderhead warned. "Hold on, I'm going to try and scramble your radar signatures so they can't lock on. Hurry and abort!"

"Don't bother, you're too far. We'll just have to hope they haven't gotten around the heat dampeners," Bartlett explained and Kei glanced back to get a glimpse at the heat trail of her engines. Heat seeking missiles had nearly spelled the end of the ace pilot when they were introduced, but Belka, which relied heavily on experienced ace pilots, managed to design a countermeasure which was a massive contributor to their ability to devastate the air forces of the nations around them when they invaded in 1995.

This countermeasure came in the form of a cheap and easily retrofitted dampener for every plane's engine and other heat sources, creating thermal inconsistencies, weakening a heat seeking missile's ability to retain a lock after being fired. And they were cheap enough that even civilian aircraft installed them in the event of a renegade attack by groups like A World with No Boundaries. And despite the urban legends, they did little to reduce the effectiveness of engines.

However, while missiles were still the go-to weapon for pilots, the usage of a plane's guns had increased nearly to the same scale as during the late thirties and forties as a way to avoid the issue altogether. Heatseekers were still used, but this was mostly because they were cheaper than radar guided missiles and still effective with some skill. You just had to time it right so that the opponent was unable to dodge the missile in time.

And as they were speeding towards Sand Island, Kei glanced down and noticed the MiGs were gaining on them and were in missile range. "Chopper, check your six!" she warned.

"I'm trying, they're running me down!" Chopper complained, having ended up in the trail position as they pulled out and were in a very loose formation. "Man, why'd I draw the short straw this time?"

"Wardog! They're locking onto you!" Thunderhead warned. "Prepare to evade!"

"Permission to engage?" Blaze asked.

Thunderhead paused, and in that pause a missile shot towards them. "Break break!" Kei shouted. Bartlett pulled up, as did Chopper, while she and Blaze dove - this time in opposite directions. The missile from the lead plane followed Chopper, but a sudden dive managed to shake it from his tail.

"Wardog, Perrault is denying you permission to engage," Thunderhead reported.

"They're here to kill us!" Kei shouted as she turned her fighter around as she saw one shooting straight for her. "The enemy has opened fire!"

"Edge, he's coming for you!" Bartlett shouted. "Thunderhead, we need to engage!"

Thunderhead paused before finally answering. "Wardog, engage but do not pursue if they retreat."

"Copy, Edge engaging!" as she came out of the roll she had done to avoid a gun burst from the Fulcrum.

"Blaze engaging!"

"Chopper engaging!"

"Heartbreak One, engaged! Edge, snap left!"

She did so and as soon as she did, a missile shot from Bartlett's Phantom and slammed into the Fulcrum that was going for her and the plane disintegrated in mid air. She glanced around and noticed another going for Blaze. "Blaze, check six!"

"Whoa! How'd he get back there?" Blaze asked as he pulled up to his left as Kei aimed her nose towards the enemy fighter.

"Wardog Two in gun range!" Thunderhead confirmed and she pulled the trigger, the tracers flying just to the side of the Fulcrum as it evaded.

"Fox One, Fox One!" Bartlett warned and Kei snapped out of the Captain's line of fire as one of the Sparrows released from his Phantom and narrowly overshot the Fulcrum, which broke off from trying to engage Blaze. One was going for Chopper and had him stuck desperately maneuvering, while another was going for Bartlett…

"Fighter on the Captain's tail, turning to engage!" Edge reported.

"Got it, I'll get the one on Chopper!" Blaze said as he broke off. Bartlett went after the Fulcrum that had been going for Blaze while Edge decelerated to let Bartlett and the Fulcrum shoot ahead, bringing her right behind her target.

She locked on and realized that the enemy pilot had no defense against her now. She was in perfect missile range and if that failed, she had guns. Part of her wanted to hesitate, to not kill the pilot, but as her fingers squeezed around the trigger she understood why. Whoever this person was, whoever his or her family was, he or she had chosen to try and attack them. And while Kei believed in peace, as his wingman she was responsible for protecting Bartlett, just as he covered her.

"Fox Two, Fox Two!" she called as she released both missiles from her launch rails and they shot towards the Fulcrum. It broke off, the brief hesitation on her part giving it a chance to, but the missiles exploded near it and shrapnel tore into it's fuselage. It decelerated and as she shot past she took a glance at it and noticed it had something painted onto the now damaged fuselage.

Three F-5E Tigers. With an Osean Air Defense Force roundel on each black silhouette.

Kei dove her plane towards the sea before the Fulcrum could get a shot on her and let it follow her as Bartlett fired one of his Sparrows at the other.

"Blaze, Fox Two!"

"That's a hit, that's a hit Blaze!" Chopper called. "You got 'im!"

"Shack on the target, he's down!" Thunderhead confirmed. "Wardog Two, you're being spiked by radar!"

"Roger that!" she answered as she pulled out of her dive as the Fulcrum followed and broke left. Something was stirring and she understood what it was immediately. Bloodlust. This was the man who had killed her friends. The flight she had flown with. And he was bragging about it. Whatever family he had, who his friends were, that didn't matter to her anymore as he stayed on her tail.

I'm not going to be painted onto his ego! she thought as he fired a missile and she yawed to the right before diving again to lose it.

"Wardog Two, missile evaded," Thunderhead reported. "Wardog Three, you have lock on!"

"I've got him, Nagase!" Chopper called as he fired a Sidewinder and the Fulcrum broke off, dodging the missile. "Blaze, go help the captain!"

"I'll be fine!" Bartlett retorted as he shot past them, the Fulcrum tight on his tail. "Stick together you three!"

Kei glanced at the Fulcrum that had been after her. Payback could wait. "Cover me, I'm going to clear his six!"

"Got you covered," Blaze answered as the Fulcrum chasing after Bartlett broke off. "Hey, the other one just broke off too."

"Wardog, disengage while you can," Thunderhead ordered as Kei watched both radar contacts moving west towards Yuktobanian waters.

"He's right," Bartlett said as they began to shift towards Sand Island. "Wait… hang on, they're turning around! Break, break!"

The two Fulcrums had shot towards them and the missile alert blared to life as Kei felt the g-forces pushing her body into her seat as she pulled a tight turn to evade the two missiles going for her. Both exploded from their proximity fuses, but with her dive she managed to avoid the worst damage and there were only some scratches on her plane. The armor had taken it.

"Those bastards just alpha striked us!" Chopper shouted indignantly. Alpha striking… unloading everything you had in one salvo. It either worked and utterly slaughtered what you were aiming for, or...

"They're out of missiles!" Blaze retorted. "Let's finish them!"

Kei shot towards the one that had been going after her as it was coming to meet her head to head. Both her radar and radar warning beeped as she was climbing to meet his head on dive. "Fox Two!" she shouted as she released two missiles from her plane's wing hardpoints and broke off. The Fulcrum had fired, and had anticipated the direction she was going. The bullets hit her left launch rail and the entire fighter shook. There was no explosion behind her and her two missiles were still on radar.

"Captain just bagged one!" Blaze called as Bartlett shot down the other Fulcrum, and Kei nodded to herself. One more to end this fight.

She snapped her plane into a dive as the Fulcrum was trying to regain altitude and quickly acquired a radar lock.

"Edge, fire one missile to scare him and then loose another in his dodge path!" Bartlett ordered and she did so.

The first missile shot towards the plane and the MiG evaded, the missile splashing into the ocean below. The second missile, however, launched after she turned her plane to meet her target's path, exploding in front of him and the shrapnel tore into the fighter.

"Bandit in gun range!" Thunderhead warned and she squeezed down on the trigger, firing the machine guns and hitting the Fulcrum's nose that had been damaged from the shrapnel. The rounds hit it and then hit the cockpit, breaking the glass and the pilot lost control of his plane. She dropped in behind him and fired another burst, hitting its engine and the plane seemed to stall into a permanent right yaw, shaking up and down but remaining steady enough to not lose altitude.

"He's disabled!" Bartlett reported. "Good job, Nagase."

"You going to finish him off?" Blaze asked.

She paused, looked down at her readout. She had more than enough machine gun ammo left to finish the job.

"Hey, this bastard killed our friends, I say shoot him!" Chopper chimed in. "He sure as shit didn't give them mercy and he hasn't surrendered!"

"Not your call, Motormouth," Bartlett chided sternly. "She got the kill; whether she finishes him or not, it's her fourth. One more 'till she's an ace."

And with that, another man's life was in her hands. "I can't see - aaaarrgghhh!" Kei closed her eyes as the scream of her wingman only a few days earlier rang in her mind. The horrified screams of her fellow trainees as they were ambushed, slaughtered like lambs in a butchers. And the image of those same people reduced to what amounted to notches on the bedpost, painted onto the enemy pilot's plane. This man or woman had murdered three good young Osean men and was bragging about it.

"Thunderhead to Wardog Two, Perrault just ordered you to finish the engagement."

"Roger," Edge said as she acquired a radar lock before pausing, matching the yaw in the Fulcrum and staying behind it. "Wardog 2 switching to open frequency." As soon as she adjusted her outbound mic, she inhaled to steady herself before starting.

"Enemy fighter, this is Second Lieutenant Nagase, Osean 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Your fighter is disabled and you have no support. If you have any form of control, lower your landing gear and we will bring you in as a prisoner of war treated in accordance with the San Salvacion Convention."

There was a pause before the Fulcrum's gear started to lower but could not lower all the way and another voice came back. It was unmistakable: a Yuktobanian accent. "You lose, Osean!" he said before the audio cut. There was a puff of smoke from the jet as the pilot ejected from his plane, the Fulcrum dipping down into the ocean and sinking rapidly after impact.

"That ends that," Bartlett said warmly as she switched back to the squadron frequency. "Well done, Nagase."

"Keep your heads on a swivel," Thunderhead cut in, "The alert's still active- Wardog Two BREAK!"

Kei barely had time to react as the plane's missile warning blared to life and she barely had time to see the missile shooting up from the ship they had been pursuing. She had hesitated right into a surface-to-air missile launch!

Immediately pulling up, she grunted at the sheer force of gravity pinning her into her seat as she tried to evade it. "They have high-grade SAMs?!" Blaze asked in horror. "Thunderhead, requesting permission to sink the ship!"

She didn't catch the AWACS' response as she tried a corkscrew to lose the radar guided missile when she saw something flash by her fighter's radar screen. A friendly signature, primary friendly… and the missile lock stopped.

"Captain!" Kei shouted as she looked to her left and saw the missile now on Bartlett's tail and closing fast. The veteran pilot pulled a tight turn, but the missile stayed on course and exploded as it almost reached his engines, spraying shrapnel into the back of the plane and causing it to trail smoke and fire to belch from its now exposed fuel line.

And the enormity of her mistake hit her. She had hesitated, and now the man she was supposed to be guarding had paid for it. "Captain, come in!"

"Hey, save the waterworks!" Bartlett answered and she could almost see him grinning. "I'm okay, but the plane's trashed. I'll just set her down here and bail out, we can replace them anyways. It's getting the pilots home that matters."

"Captain, I'm…"

"Save it, you did well. Kid, tell Perrault to get off his ass and send the Littlebird out and pick me up. And tell Pops to get my Tiger ready for battle. Thunderhead, take care of them for me, okay?"

"Roger, Wardog Leader," Thunderhead answered. "Wardog, enter a holding pattern outside of SAM range. We'll move into a better position to scramble any further radar locks."

"Understood," Kei said as she watched Bartlett eject from the doomed Phantom and his chute deployed while Blaze relayed the captain's orders. Pulling up to a higher altitude, she kept watching when Thunderhead interrupted them again.

"Wardog, RTB immediately!" Thunderhead ordered.

"But, rescue chopper hasn't scrambled yet," Kei protested as Bartlett's doomed trainer jet crashed into the ocean.

"Leave that to the rescue chopper! Get back to base, rearm, and get into the air immediately! The enemy just declared war on us! I'll send you coordinates as soon as you get in the air again! Double time, move it!"

"Understood, Thunderhead," Blaze answered. "Chopper, Edge, let's go."

"... Wardog Two copies," she said as she turned her plane away from the engagement zone, a cold void gripping her chest.

The last thing she saw before losing sight of him was Bartlett's parachute… and was he going towards the enemy ship?

XXXXXX

1202 Hours

Sand Island - Barracks

"Captain Hamilton," Albert said as he looked at the adjutant of the Sand Island base. He resembled the other Wardogs in overall build, except for his blond hair compared to the darker tones more common amongst the trainees. And unlike Colonel Perrault, Allen Hamilton had been a voice of reason and kind to him. Or at least as kind as his duties permitted.

"This belongs to you," Hamilton answered and Albert smiled. His camera.

"Thank you," he said as the adjutant passed it to him. "But won't the colonel…"

"I pointed out how you needed it for your job and that an article without a photo won't get him on the front page," Hamilton explained with a faint smirk. "And we kept a scan of your photos without the classified markings. You'll have to clear it with him to use any of the ones you took, but you will be allowed to look at them and ask."

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," Hamilton said. "May I?"

"Of course," he took a step to the side and let Hamilton in. The captain paused, looking at the collection of articles that had littered his desk.

"I suppose I should feel jealous," Hamilton admitted as he walked by and picked up one of them, a snippet of the article on the Battle of B7R that included the Demon Lord's comment about Bartlett. "I would have liked to have a job like yours."

"Why didn't you?" he asked curiously as Hamilton glared at the piece, notably the part about the Demon Lord himself, before putting it back down.

"My uncle was a soldier," he explained when the phone suddenly rang. "Excuse me," he said and picked it up. Albert walked over to the bed in his room - or as he saw it, the cell - he had been assigned to, and waited patiently as Hamilton listened to whoever was on the other end.

Hamilton looked oddly at peace despite the grimace on his face as he hung up. "Well, we have no more reason to hold you."

"Huh?" Albert asked with a frown. "Why's that?"

"Yuktobania just declared war, and launched a simultaneous offensive to go with it," the captain turned and began walking out of the room, adjusting his hat as he went. "Our naval port at Saint Hewlett is being bombed right now." And with that, he was out the door, leaving Albert to stand there, stunned.

They were at war? Osea, the nation that had sworn off military action as a tool of foreign policy in the aftermath of the Belkan War, was at war? And with one of the nations that it shared the aforementioned pledge with? Somehow, it felt like someone was pulling an elaborate prank on him as he heard engines powering up outside. Walking to the window and prying open the shades, he watched as he saw the Wardog Squadron taking off again.

But there were only three of them now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

End Chapter

- I suspect you're asking "Why is Thunderhead giving them permission to engage?" Well… like in canon, it's still basically out of his hands. Also, rather than it being in the air if the player engages first or not, the enemy is explicitly engaging first this time. By-the-book as Thunderhead is, I somehow doubt he would deliberately tell them to sit there and get killed. Despite all the shit he gives the squadron, he does genuinely care for them and I always read him being a hardass as more trying to get them home alive by not letting them slack off and get a missile from a random boat to the ass. Perrault though… yeah, he's open and shut.

- The "Heat Dampener" is a bit of a handwave on my part, but given how prevalent missiles are and how Ace Combat seems to favor the WWII style of dogfighting, it did feel like a sensible explanation. Plus, compared to things like Excalibur, the Arkbird, or Morgan, it's pretty reasonable in comparison. And even then, heat seekers are still a deadly threat and it's useless against radar guided missiles. Leave it to Belka, huh? Though for the record, the basic tactics stay the same for dodging missiles as they are in real life - sharp turns, make it overshoot, the proximity fuse detonates and all the shrapnel misses. They just get a wider margin of error.

- Speaking of that; for those who are unaware, "Fox One" means semi-active radar guided missiles (in AC, SAAMs), "Fox Two" is heat seeking (standard missiles in AC), "Fox Three" is radar guided (XLAA/XMAA), and "Fox Four" is for machine guns, but IRL "Fox Four" is usually instead reported as "Guns" repeated three times. Some technical talk and brevity codes will be used, but I'll try to keep it to a reasonable amount and try to introduce it in a way that also comes with an explanation. IE, Blaze saying "10-4" to Thunderhead followed by 'Loud and Clear' as narration.