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.

4. Chapter 3: Naval Blockade

"I've got something on radar, bearing two-four-six… probably just the Shorebirds coming back early. Carrier pilots, y'know?"

- OMDF Corporal Erwin Lee, shortly before the Battle of St. Hewlett

September 27th, 2010

1433 Hours

Six Miles South of Port St. Hewlett

"Wardog, listen up!" Thunderhead barked as they were approaching their target. "Port St. Hewlett is being bombed by most of the Yuktobanian Naval Air Force. Their primary target is the aircraft carrier OFS Kestrel, flagship of the Third Naval Fleet! That's your primary objective: defend the carrier at all costs and do as much as you can to protect the rest of the fleet. Understood?"

"Blaze, roger."

"Chopper, roger."

Mason waited for Edge's response… and it didn't come. "Edge?"

"Edge copies," she finally answered. She had been silent the entire flight, and though flying the lead position of the formation, she barely acknowledged Thunderhead's coordinates and flight routes to get them there.

"Edge, you lead the formation." Thunderhead ordered.

"Negative, you take the lead Blaze. I'll fly on your wing."

"Wait what?" Mason asked in surprise as her fighter decelerated and she put herself on his left. "Uh, Edge, you just got orders to lead the formation…"

"I know. But you're leading - and I'm not going to lose another flight lead."

Shit, he thought as he realized where this was coming from. "Edge this is no time to mess around. Are you sure about this?"

"Second Lieutenant Nagase, follow your orders!" Thunderhead ordered again.

"I'm sure. Take the lead, Blaze, I'll cover you."

Before he could respond, another formation of Osean jets flew up from behind. F-14 Tomcats, the standard mainline fighter of the Osean Military since the aftermath of the Belkan War.

"Captain Snow of Shorebird Squadron to Wardog: quit screwing around, the enemy's all over and they'll eat you alive!"

"Ahhhh…. I'm just going to stay in trail position, thanks," Chopper said and Mason sighed.

"Alright, Blaze taking the lead," he said. Someone had to take the lead or they'd be worse than useless; they'd be a liability. "Edge, Chopper, let's fall in with the Shorebirds until we get to the Kestrel."

"You're in luck, we're the Kestrel's primary flight," Captain Snow answered. "My callsign's Swordsman. Gentlemen, introduce yourselves while we have a minute."

"Shorebird Two here; callsign Halberdier," another man answered as they fell into formation with the other jets, Wardog behind the Shorebirds.

"Shorebird Three, callsign Pikeman."

"Shorebird Four, callsign Arbalast. And you guys?"

"Understood. Wardog Four, acting lead, callsign Blaze."

"Wardog Two, callsign Edge."

"And Wardog Three, callsign Chopper."

"We'll stick with you guys until we're told otherwise," Mason added after the introductions were finished.

"Smart choice," Swordsman answered as they were almost at the battlezone.

"Hey, Wardog Lead, those kills on your fuselage?" Halberdier asked. "I thought Bartlett's next crop wasn't ready yet."

"We… had run ins," Edge said evasively as they approached the port.

"Yeah; both of these two are nearly aces though. Blaze has three kills and Edge four," Chopper bragged. "I've got none, but hey, I survived!"

"Not now, Chopper," Mason snapped. This was not the time for arguing about who would become the first OADF ace since the Belkan War. Especially as he could start making out the chaos that was engulfing the Osean Maritime Defense Force's main harbor.

Smoke and fire billowed from the southern shore of the port, sporadic anti-aircraft and SAM fire shooting back at the Yuke carrier jets bombing the docks and other base facilities, a naval drydock exploding as a flight of four Yuktobanian A-6E Intruders released a full bomb load before breaking off as a missile from an Osean Aegis Cruiser slammed into the middle of the formation and knocked out the lead plane. The others began to trail smoke from the shrapnel. The radar showed more Intruders were coming in, covered by more air-to-air built carrier jets, including a flight of MiG-31s and several more of Phantoms. Osean jets were also in the air, but there were too few to cover everything.

And in the middle of it all, beginning to make its way towards the open water of the ocean, was a flat decked ship with a pair of Destroyers on its flank, all three of which were firing their onboard guns at anything non-Osean that dared fly too close.

Mason nodded to himself as his radar beeped to confirm another flight of Intruders coming in. "Wardog, call out anything that's heading for the Kestrel and make that a priority target. Otherwise engage targets of opportunity as you can. Engage at will but stay close!"

"Wardog Two, roger."

"Wardog Three, roger."

"Wardog Squadron, tune to our fleet command channel," Swordsman added before reading off a list of numbers. Mason nodded and adjusted and he could hear the radio chatter as Wardog dove into the fray, the Shorebirds heading for the MiGs flying top cover as the Foxhounds were turning to engage them.

"All friendly aircraft engage the next wave of enemy jets! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!" the port commander was shouting.

"Oh thanks for the heads up you idiot!" another officer retorted.

Mason dropped behind an Intruder that was making a run towards one of the ships escorting the Kestrel, locking on and firing a Sidewinder. The Intruder had spotted him and began evasive maneuvers, allowing it to dodge the missile. He quickly yawed to the left to follow it and aimed the nose of his jet before his target and fired, the bullets shooting ahead of the Intruder until it flew right into them, shredding it and sending it tumbling into the ocean.

"Blaze, check six!" Edge shouted and he glanced down just in time to see a Yuke Phantom on his tail and acquiring a radar lock. He snapped to the right as it fired, pulling as sharp a turn as his fighter could handle. The Phantom followed, but the missile was unable to turn with it and lost tracking.

Only upside is that there's no guns on that, he thought as he juked to the side past a frigate that was sinking fast as a Tomcat joined in with Edge.

"Whoa, I've got one on my tail!" Chopper warned.

"Hang on, I've got him!" Arbalest answered. Mason grit his teeth as the fighter that had joined Edge fired its guns. He couldn't protect Chopper with the fighter on his tail and trying to get a lock on him.

"Fox Two!" Edge shouted and he heard an explosion behind him and a quick glance at his radar confirmed that the Yuke chasing him had been destroyed.

"Halberdier and Wardog Two just splashed one," Swordsman's voice confirmed.

"Thank you, both of you!" Mason said as he glanced to the side. "Chopper, how're you doing?"

"I'm clear and on this guy's tail!" Chopper answered. He was chasing down one of the Tigers that the Yukes had brought to the attack and the one chasing him had been warded off or destroyed, he couldn't see which.

"Swordsman, Fox Three!" An explosion above and a falling MiG told him how that dogfight had ended as Mason checked his radar for another target.

"Arbalest, missile, MISSILE!" Halberdier shouted.

"Hang on!" Mason shouted as he pulled up sharply as he saw the MiG chasing the Tomcat, which dove sharply to try and avoid the missile. "Blaze, Fox Two!" he called as soon as the target lock was confirmed as he came in from the side. The MiG broke off its attack and swerved so the missile undershot and exploded harmlessly.

"Shit!" Arbalest shouted, "I'm hit, bailing out!"

Mason glanced at his radar and saw who had hit the Shorebird pilot: a pair of Yuke F-5E Tigers from below. He dived down after the Tigers, Edge behind him, and fired his guns as Swordsman called Arbalest's chute as good. The two nose mounted cannons buzzed to life and shot ahead of his target, hitting the left one's engine before a missile from above finished it off.

"Let's call that a shared one," Pikeman said as the other Tomcat flew past.

"Fine by me," he retorted. "Edge, you get the other one?"

"Negative; one of the Phantoms hit it in a flyby."

Before he could comment, an explosion rippled from below and three Intruders flew past his plane's canopy, hellbound to get away from the battlezone.

"The bastards just wrecked the Antium! She's sinking!"

"Shit!" Mason muttered as he glanced down and could make out the billowing smoke of a ship that had split in half ahead of them.

"Kestrel is two miles from the bay exit!"

"Are… are those people in the water?" Edge asked as they flew by the ship.

XXXXXXXXX

"Come on you son of a bitch!" Chopper shouted as he pulled hard to the left as the MiG on his tail fired a missile. The sharp ninety-degree turn had thrown off the heat seeker, but the MiG was still on him as he continued to jink side to side to avoid another lock as his altitude was being forced down. He didn't know where the Tiger he had been chasing had gone, but he had bigger problems.

Ah screw it, he thought as he dived in between the smoke billowing from destroyed oil tanks on the southern shore of the port, flying through one of the larger plumes of smoke and pulling up, quickly decelerating and hoping that his plan worked as he heard chatter about another ship being sunk.

He wasn't sure how, but the Foxhound on his tail had gone straight past and Chopper smiled as he dropped in behind his target and locked on. "Fox Two Fox Two!" he shouted as he released both missiles from his fighter's launch rails. His target jinked to the left, towards the center of the gulf.

"Oh no you don't!" he said as he stayed behind it and fired his guns, hitting its engines directly and causing them to ignite, fuel spraying from the engines.

"Yeah!" Chopper shouted. "Wardog Three, scratch a Foxhound!" He kept his eyes on it as he flew forward and past it, tilting his jet somewhat so he could watch his first kill dive into the water. This is going to be one to remember, he thought as he grinned.

The MiG-31 was still in some control, but it was losing altitude fast and was tipping to the side. Why's he tipping? Chopper wondered as before he almost threw up into his breath mask. The fuel spraying from the engines was splashing into the water and remained ignited. Landing on the Osean naval crewmen who had abandoned their ship after it was sunk. And the MiG pilot had tipped his plane to make sure they were sprayed by the fuel.

"Oh no," he said as his eyes went wide. "Oh no, how... " Then the radio crackled to life.

"Jackson, Jackson are you okay! Arbalest, talk to me!" Swordsman shouted as the scream in the squadron frequencies echoed as the Foxhound finally splashed into the water. An ear splitting shriek that made nightmares.

"Stop it," Chopper begged as he closed his eyes. "Someone… please… make it stop!" The scream continued and even with his eyes closed he could see the people burning on the waves. See their faces.

He shouldn't have looked.

"Chopper, form up!" Blaze ordered.

"What?" Chopper asked, shocked. "Kid, did you see…"

"I saw," he said and Chopper found himself surprised. How was he still calm? There was a waver in their temporary flight lead's voice, but nothing like he had seen those people burning alive.

"Then… I, I did..."

"We can't help them now, but we can help everyone else," Blaze interrupted sharply. "Form up Wardog, we've got another wave incoming for the Kestrel!"

Chopper exhaled, forcing himself to look away and pulled back on the stick gently, bringing his altitude up to meet Blaze and Edge. "Wardog Three, roger."

"Wardog, the incoming flight targeting the Kestrel! Take them out!" Thunderhead ordered.

"Let's get them!" Chopper called as he adjusted his radar and picked up the two Su-25 Frogfoots that were inbound with the rocket pods. One run of those would almost certainly trash the Kestrel's deck and render it inoperable. And then the Shorebirds would be out of a home. Not on my watch, he thought as he checked his ammo count. Four missiles left.

The two Frogfoots spotted them and began to evade. Edge and Blaze both fired a missile at the leader, hitting him and sending the plane spiraling into the ocean in a flaming wreck, and Chopper hit his target with guns but it was still active, albeit wobbling as it flew forward and began to pull out.

"Frogfoot disabled and withdrawing!" Thunderhead called. "Continue to protect the Kestrel."

"Roger that," Swordsman answered. "That's our carrier!"

"Negative; Shorebird Squadron, you're needed in the east. Don't let them destroy our drydock capabilities!"

"That's my carrier, you pigheaded moron!" Swordsman protested and Chopper wanted to say something. To support him against the AWACS. He owed it to them to let them defend their home.

"Hey, Kid, do you think…"

"Alright," Swordsman cut in before he could finish. "Shorebirds, we're covering the east. Wardog! Take care of the carrier, and teach the Yukes the same fear the Belkans learned. We'll be back ASAP."

"We'll do everything we can," Blaze confirmed. "Wardog, ammo count? I've got three Sidewinders and half a gun left."

"Wardog Two, four missiles and most of my guns."

"Wardog Three, I've got four missiles left."

The three pilots formed up over the Kestrel as Thunderhead reported that another flight of Osean reinforcements had arrived from the nearby army base, but Chopper wasn't paying attention to it as the Kestrel and a small handful of ships made it past the bridge marking the end of Port St. Hewlett itself.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath, "whoever's out there… get that bucket of bolts out to the ocean."

"This is Captain Andersen of the Aircraft Carrier Kestrel, my congratulations to those who managed to escape," an old, grizzled voice explained over the radio. "As Captain, I will now form a provisional battle fleet. The enemy has built a blockade to prevent our escape, and we must break through in order to make it to safer waters. Good luck, everyone. All available friendly aircraft, I'm requesting your assistance."

"Wardog Squadron to Kestrel," Blaze answered, "We'll do everything we can but we have no anti-ship weapons. I repeat: no anti-ship weapons. We can only provide top cover and a distraction."

"Understood," Andersen answered. "Do what you can."

"Hey Kid!" Chopper shouted as his radar beeped with a clearer update of what they were looking at. "Yuke Phantoms, dead ahead."

"And screening a pair of Nimrods," Edge added. And as Chopper looked down at his radar, his gut tightened again. With their long range anti-ship missiles, the Nimrods would be more than enough to wreck the battle fleet.

"Damn it… sorry guys, but we have to take care of those Nimrods before they can launch. You two have the most missiles left; pick a Nimrod and go for it. I'll try and draw their fire."

"Jeez," Chopper groaned. "We're fucking nuggets! Don't the ships have point defenses or something?"

"I know, but until we get reinforcements I don't have any better ideas, and you know Phalanx fire isn't nearly as effective as advertised."

"I know and I'm willing, but still… man, I'm missing that voice right now." He wasn't sure how, but Bartlett yelling at them would have been reassuring. Or at least some snarky ass comment about how poorly named the anti-missile defense cannon was named given it had nothing at all to do with the effectiveness of the ancient Estovakian formations.

"So am I. Here goes!" Blaze's fighter shot ahead and Chopper slammed his acceleration to full and sped after him, Edge on his left flank.

"Chopper, go for the right." Edge suggested.

"Got it!" he answered as Blaze fired two of his missiles at the leading Phantom before snapping out of the head to head as the three Yuke Phantoms moved to engage. The two missiles slammed into the leading Phantom as it tried to pull out, wings breaking off as the plane tumbled into the ocean and the missiles it fired uselessly sailing forward into the blue skies without guidance.

Chopper brought the nose of his fighter directly in line with the Nimrod, the large plane beginning to dive and evade. Lowering his throttle, he released two Sidewinders from the Tiger's hardpoints, aiming just ahead of it. "Fox Two, Fox Two!" The larger anti-ship plane tried to maneuver to the side, but it was too late and the missiles slammed into the topside of its fuselage. "Yeah! Target hit!"

"Davenport, it's still on course! Keep hitting it!" Thunderhead ordered.

"Edge, Fox Two!"

"Roger!" he responded as he shot past and brought his fighter around, lining up behind the Nimrod as it tried to fire and as soon as he locked on, released his last two missiles.

"Chopper, Winchester." Out of missiles.

"Shack on the target! Nimrod going down!" Thunderhead reported as the large aircraft erupted into a fireball and fell to the ocean a flaming wreck. "Wardog, continue to engage - Blaze, missile!"

Chopper glanced up and saw a missile explode off the side of Blaze's fighter and knocked off his right launch rail. "Blaze!" he shouted, "Hang on, I'm…"

"Edge, engaging Phantoms!"

He blinked as he saw Edge's Tiger peeling away from the Nimrod she had been hammering and shot right towards the Phantoms. "Uh, Chopper engaging remaining Nimrod!"

XXXXXX

"Damn it!" Mason cursed as he forced his fighter out of the spin that the damaged launch rail had forced him into. Well, I walked into that one, he thought bitterly as he put his jet into a dive to try and clear away from the Phantoms chasing him, weaving side to side to prevent them from firing their semi-active guided missiles. Taking on three jets at once was pushing it, and he knew it, but those Nimrods had to go down.

One of the Phantoms suddenly exploded and he saw who had fired the missile. Edge.

"Edge, you are winchester - repeat, winchester!" Thunderhead reported as Mason pulled out of the dive and dodged left from the last Phantom.

Great, one more missile to go… Mason thought as he saw the remaining Phantom lining up behind him again on radar.

"Wardog Leader, head to bearing zero-eight-five and maintain a low altitude, we'll get him off of you!"

"Roger that, Kestrel!" he called as he pulled up before he crashed into the ocean. "Edge, get that damn Nimrod!"

"Nimrod down!" Chopper reported. "But I'm almost dry, I've got maybe two seconds of gun left."

Mason ignored that for now, focusing ahead as he shot towards the Kestrel's battle group. The enemy frigates were engaging and closing in, deck guns from all sides firing away. One of the Osean frigates suffered an explosion in the rear, while one of the Yuke destroyers began to sink under heavy cannon fire.

"Blaze coming in hot!" he warned. "Edge, break off!"

"Roger that. Phalanx fire, LET 'ER RIP!"

As his jet shot past the Kestrel, from below the top deck that served as the carrier's landing strip two guns exploded to life, filling the air behind his jet with lead. The Phantom pulled out immediately before it opened fire as it's pilot recognized the trap it had flown into, but lost its quickly hole-filled left wing and spun out of control, the pilot and co-pilot bailing out and ejecting at a diagonal away from the Osean ships.

And as he shot past closer to the port, Mason let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said as he checked his stick. Sluggish, but still operable enough. He began to run through a plane check, making sure it could still maneuver as he gained altitude to rejoin the other two Wardogs above and looked down at the naval battle brewing below.

And we said that all ship battles would be beyond visual range, he thought as he shook his head. The Osean fleet had pushed aggressively, but the blockade was pushing back just as hard and moving into close range. He was too high to see details, but the explosions were quite clear. And unfortunately, the ships were now too close for Wardog to be an effective way of drawing fire.

"Wardog, listen up!" Thunderhead ordered before he could really appreciate the sea battle going on below, "the fight over the Port is subsiding, but we've more jets inbound for the Kestrel. Mostly Intruders with ammo to spare from their bombing runs."

"Thunderhead, we've got one Sidewinder total and Chopper's almost out of guns, we can't do much more," he pointed out immediately, a sense of dread creeping up his spine. They were in no shape to go in again. He wasn't even sure how they were able to do as much damage as they had done. "We have to have some reinforcements here somewhere, right?"

"The last of the reinforcements will be arriving shortly to help the Kestrel plow through the blockade, but they're not going to be able to do air-to-air. We'll get as many fighters from the port over as we can, though."

"Thunderhead, Shorebirds are already en route," Swordsman reported over the radio. "ETA one and a half minutes!"

"Blaze," Edge pointed out, "we're in no shape to go in and your plane is damaged."

"I know," he said as he closed his eyes. Ruthless calculus was coming into play. Three trainees against a whole carrier. "But we've got our orders."

"This is Devastator Squadron, coming up from your south," a loud voice cut into the radio. "Carrier defense squadron do you read?"

"Devastator, Wardog Four and acting leader, you mean the carrier's squadron or the one over it?"

"The one over it. That you Wardog?"

"Affirmative."

"Right; we're inbound with some missiles to help the Kestrel, but we need cover."

"What're we going to do, Blaze?" Edge asked.

He glanced at Devastator Squadron and almost swore. They had sent A-10 Warthogs? He was expecting Hornets or even Strike Eagles, something more naval based and with Harpoon anti-ship missiles, not the tough-as-tanks plane built to house a specific kind of gun. They must have been scrambled last, he thought as he checked the incoming flight.

"Wardog, engage the Intruders first. Devastator, we've got another flight coming back to cover you, ETA under one minute."

"Roger, Wardog. We're coming in hot. Kestrel, feed us targets, we'll engage as we can!"

"Wardog, engage the Intruders!" Blaze ordered. "Chopper, hang back in reserve and catch whatever we miss, understood?"

"Yeah, I'll play goalie," he said as Mason and Edge's Tigers shot ahead of the formation and towards the first flight of Intruders coming in and he fought down a sigh. The A-6E Intruder used to be the Osean aircraft carrier ground attack jet of choice, but were retired before the Belkan War and Osea sold most of them to Yuktobania when the war began as a way to bolster the forces for the war. And now those same jets had been used to kill who knew how many Oseans.

The first group of three Intruders moved in and Mason locked onto the leader. "Fox Two and winchester!" he called as he released it. The Intruder saw it coming and evaded to the side, the missile missing but the resulting shrapnel hit the wings and one of the bombs it was carrying. Shooting past, he and Edge pulled around and dropped behind an Intruder each.

"What the - Wardog, two Phantoms coming in for you! Look out!" Thunderhead warned as Mason shot at the leader and put several more holes into it's fuselage.

"Edge, break!" Mason ordered as he abandoned his attack snapped to the left, Edge to the right and diving. The Intruder he had aimed for pulled out of the attack, engines smoking badly and fire trailing from one, but the other two were still on.

"Damn it!" Edge cursed. "I just ran out of machine guns!"

And I only have a little left myself, he thought as he grit his teeth. "Bring your target over to me, I'll clear your six! Chopper, scare the Intruders!"

"Hang on, I'll get him off you!"

"Captain Snow?" he asked with a frown as he glanced behind him.

"Fox Three!" A missile shot out from a Tomcat in the distance and chased the Phantom on his tail away as it moved to evade. He smiled.

"Edge, swing it around, Swordsman cleared me!"

"Roger!" she answered as she pulled her plane around while the A-10s began their attack runs, launching their Maverick air-to-ground missiles from long range at the larger Yuke naval ships before moving in close with their heavy Gatling cannons to tear up the smaller frigates.

And as Edge passed by him, he aimed right for the Phantom in a head to head and squeezed down, shooting it and the air beyond as they flew by each other.

He turned around to get a better look at how that head to head hand ended. "Damn it, it's still airborne!" He aimed at the engines and squeezed on the trigger… and nothing. He was out of ammo.

"Fox Two," another voice cut in and a missile slammed into the Phantom, sending it tumbling into the ocean. One of Swordsman's wingmen had hit it.

"Shorebirds, get in there!" Swordsman ordered and the three Tomcats remaining of that flight dove after the remaining Intruders.

"Captain Snow, we entrust the sky to you," Andersen said over the radio.

"Roger, Captain Andersen. Wardog, are you okay?"

"Chopper?"

"Hosed one of the Intruders and knocked it out, and one of the Shorebirds got the other. But I'm dry," he reported.

"Wardogs, check fuel." He glanced down and hissed. He was beyond joker fuel - fuel required to return and then have an extra pass or two if he failed. He wasn't even at bingo fuel - the minimum required to get back to Sand Island. Had he really lost track of his fuel during the fight? "Damn it, that's the dumbest mistake you could make Mason…" he muttered angrily to himself.

"This is Edge, I'm at bingo fuel."

"Chopper, I'm just below it. Yeouch, we really screwed that one didn't we?"

Mason sighed as the Shorebirds chased off the last of the Yuke Naval Air Force. "Kestrel, Wardog is out of ammo and fuel, I'm sorry we couldn't do more."

"Understood Wardog, thank you for all you've done," the Kestrel's flight controller answered.

"Hey, Wardog!" Swordsman called as the three remaining Shorebird Tomcats (one of which was leaking smoke from an engine) entered a holding pattern over their carrier as the last of the blockade began to melt away from the fight. "You're all nuggets, right?"

"Yes sir," he answered.

"Nuggets who fight like fully trained pilots. That's Bartlett for you."

"Thank you, I… I think," Edge said uneasily at the other flight lead's compliment.

"Right. Thunderhead this is Blaze; Wardog is going to need a tanker or an alternative landing site. We're either at bingo fuel or just below, repeat, bingo fuel or just below. We're not carrier trained, so the Kestrel is not an option." It took a moment before the AWACS controller responded as the battle below began to subside.

"Understood; we're moving a tanker over here from Granger Air Force Base to help others in a similar situation. Begin a heading at one-eight-four, I'll connect you to the tanker once it's airborne and get you all refueled."

"Understood. Wardog, form up. We're heading back."

As the three formed up to leave, Captain Andersen's voice cut over the radio waves. "This is Captain Andersen: our fleet has made it into open waters and the enemy is disengaging. My thanks to our brave warriors of the sea - and in the air."

Mason simply sighed in relief and leaned back in the cockpit as the adrenaline began to ebb from his body, flying in the direction Thunderhead had told them to. He had made it.

"One… two… three," Chopper began counting. "One… two… three. Hey, Blaze! Count 'em up! We're all coming back home! We're all coming back safe!"

Mason glanced lazily to each side and allowed himself a faint smile. "We are. Well, that's good news for the Captain once he dries off, huh?"

"Hell yeah!"

They flew off, away from the devastation that had now officially opened the Circum-Pacific War. But as they flew away, Mason felt uneasy. Like he was back with Bartlett in a training jet and being scrutinized.

Just fuel jitters, he eventually told himself as they approached the tanker aircraft to refuel.

XXXXXXXX

1703 Hours

Sand Island - Hanger A

As Kei brought her plane into the main hangar and finished the immediate post-flight checklist, she pushed the canopy open and slowly pushed herself out of the jet and onto the ladder that the mechanics had rolled up, slowly making it to the hangar floor. Chopper and Blaze had both already extracted themselves from their planes and Pops was there to meet them.

"How're you three feeling?" the mechanic asked as they all took their helmets off. "You came back dry and Blaze's wing is damaged."

"We took a few hard hits," Blaze admitted as he stuffed his helmet underneath his arm, "but we managed to get out alright."

"Also, congratulations," Pops said with a smile.

"For what?" she asked with a frown.

"The AWACS sent us your battle data. It's official - Blaze, Edge, you're both aces now. The Frogfoot you two took out together pushed both of you to five kills. It looks like both of you are the first Osean aces since the Belkan War."

"Where's Captain Bartlett?" Kei demanded. This was something he should have been telling them, not Pops. Besides, the only reason it was possible was because of him, and he had taken a missile for her.

Pops' expression hardened and he looked down. "By the time the helicopter was out there, he was gone. The only thing left was an abandoned parachute and the retreating ship."

"WHAT?!" she shouted as Blaze and Chopper's jaws both dropped.

"When Perrault finally scrambled the Littlebird, Bartlett's beacon had gone out. They went out anyways - had to argue with Perrault to do it - but he was gone by the time they found what was left of his jet."

"That fucking oversized asshole!" Chopper snarled. "Lemme guess; he delayed just so he could get rid of Bartlett and lord it all over us!"

"Don't attribute to malice what incompetence covers," Pops immediately warned as Kei began to tune out the conversation as Blaze started to talk about wanting to sink the ship.

Bartlett was gone? She always knew that one day she'd be transferred somewhere else after finishing her training, but she never imagined that they would be alone like this. She shivered as the realization that they were now on their own hit her like a brick wall. They had been lucky over St. Hewlett; that would only get them so far.

Before, they could at least count on Bartlett's help. They were able to defend themselves, but in the end they were still technically trainees. Trainees pressed to active duty weeks ahead of schedule, but trainees none the less. Were they ready to be an independent squadron?

"Hey, Nagase!" Pops called loudly. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she automatically said as she brushed her free hand through her hair. "Just… surprised."

He nodded slowly. "Look, Bartlett had high expectations for you three. And I don't mean him grinding you to the nose in flight school - he outright told me that if he had to pick three trainees, you three were it."

"Wait, are you saying he wanted us to be the survivors?" Chopper asked, staring at the mechanic.

"Of course not!" Pops retorted. "He wanted everyone to survive! Aero, Cavalier, Jive, even Barney! But if he had to pick three pilots, you three were the ones he believed had the ability to go far. Who could survive without him."

"Sorry, but right now…" Blaze started before trailing off.

"I know," Pops said as he turned and put a hand on his shoulder. "This is just the start of everything. Now, go get your flight gear off and get some food. You guys have been in your planes since this morning. I'll handle the plane checks and ready them for the next sortie. And if you see Grimm, tell him that I need to talk to him."

Kei nodded before walking out of the hanger as Pops called his crew to get to work and ordered them to ready another set of Sidewinders to load onto their jets.

XXXXXX

1718 Hours

Sand Island - Mess Hall

Albert glanced to the pilot sitting across from him. Not one of the Wardogs, but the lone member of Replacement Pilot Training on Sand Island. Hans "Archer" Grimm, light skinned like the rest of the squadron, just with a reddish brown hair color and looking far too young to be a fighter pilot.

"And you want to ask me questions?" Grimm asked in surprise.

"You're one of Bartlett's trainees," Albert answered with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess," he said uncertainly. "So uh, what do you want to know?"

"How about why you joined?"

"My brother, really. He always kept an eye on me even when me and my family were in the camp…"

The trainee cut himself off as mess hall suddenly grew silent. The door had opened and three pilots stepped in. The three who had gone to St. Hewlett. They stayed together, getting their food before sitting down together and quietly eating.

Albert fought down the urge to go talk to them. They had just come back from what the news had clearly reported was a lot of damage. The only upside, it seemed, was that the Kestrel had escaped. Supposedly without a scratch, but it was too soon for official statements on the events that had gone on.

"It's a bit daunting," Grimm said. "I mean, I'm supposed to join them? Or was, I guess…"

"Worried about being dead weight?"

"Basically. You know that saying about how some gun is better than no gun? Well, no pilot is better than a bad pilot who needs to be babysat. If they have to focus on keeping me alive..."

Albert simply nodded as the door opened again and Perrault marched in, Hamilton behind him carrying a pair of CD cases.

"Listen up people!" Perrault shouted. "You've all heard the news, but I think it's time you saw it yourself. Yuktobania's declaration of war. Pay attention, people, this is why the enemy was stupid enough to take action against us! Captain Hamilton?"

"Sir," the base adjutant coldly acknowledged as he walked over to the mess hall's TV and the hybrid DVD/Video Tape player that was connected to it. Ejecting the disc that had been left in from the movie that the maintenance crew had watched last night, Hamilton switched the discs and carefully put the movie in a spare CD case he had brought along.

As soon as the DVD was read by the player, the screen blinked to show a Yuktobanian general standing in front of their parliament. Albert recognized him immediately: General Stagleishov of the Yuktobanian Air Force, who was well known for his dissatisfaction with the Belkan War's resolution. The general began to speak, but the voice quickly cut as a translator replaced the audio.

"This is a dark day in our history, for today Yuktobania has been forced to the field of warfare," the general began. "For fifteen years, Osea spat upon the friendship offered to it against the threat of Belka fifteen years ago..." the entire speech paused, along with the screen.

Albert glanced over and saw that Perrault was holding the remote. "Correction, we've been way too nice to those vodka-drinkers." He hit a button on the remote.

"... and allowed their ingratitude to persist as a result of the suffering on their soil. Now, however, Osea has brazenly insulted our sovereignty and these insults can no longer be ignored! First, Osea hoarded the tech gained in the Belkan War, denying us the due of the blood we spilled in their trenches!" The speech was paused.

"Correction, they had their share of the tech in accordance with the treaty. Where else did they get those stupid heat dampeners?"

They got them along with the rest of the Allied Forces, Albert silently noted as Perrault unpaused the speech.

"Second, they have kept exclusive access to the Arkbird and the capabilities of arming it! Yet it was Yuktobanian skill that made it's key duty possible!"

"Correction, Osea was responsible for much of the Arkbird and it's mission of mercy in orbit. Weaponizing it is not solely Osea's perogatory."

Albert noticed Edge glaring at the colonel angrily, silently noting that the Arkbird was a joint project - Yuktobania provided the laser system to clear out the Ulysses asteroid fragments still in orbit. But at the same time, the Arkbird's primary control and resupply facilities were on Osean soil and under the OSDF's jurisdiction.

"Third, and most grievously, their marines have kidnapped our Prime Minister, Seryozha Nikanor! Abducting him from his home as he prepared to sign off on an acknowledgement of the years of peace between our peoples!"

That sent a ripple of chatter through the mess hall and Albert stared at the screen. Osean commandos had abducted the Prime Minister?

"That makes no sense!" Grimm muttered.

"Pipe down! Obviously a load of crock," Perrault snarled.

"And in the last three days, their base of Sand Island has killed a whole squadron's worth of our brave Air Force pilots, who were simply doing duty to nation and family! Now, citizens of the Yuktobanian Republics, we shall strike back at the Oseans who have wronged us, reclaim our rightful due for our sacrifices years ago, and reclaim our stolen Prime Minister!"

There was a mixed reaction on the recording, which was immediately paused by the Colonel. But Genette could see in the rims of the cameras several Yuktobanian representatives rising in protest rather than joining the applause.

"As you can see, our enemy hates us for our success," Perrault began. "And are hiding it by claiming that our self defense against their blatant intrusions was us murdering them. We are Osea's vanguard, people. There will be no tolerance for slacking anymore. You do your duties, or you're stuck looking at minimum wage for the rest of your life. And that's if I'm feeling kind." He paused and looked around. "Nothing more. Back to your duties!"

The overweight officer walked out as Hamilton removed the DVD of the declaration of war, leaving Albert looking around. He could see the three Wardogs looking at each other, muttering quietly to each other, faces stricken. Do they think themselves responsible? Albert wondered as he pushed himself up from his seat and walked over.

"No, we were defending ourselves," Blaze was saying as Albert walked over. "They're whitewashing it for propaganda, they can't well admit that they were provo…. ah, Genette, how can we help you?"

"I don't suppose any of you want to make a comment, for the article?" he asked. "I know this is a little sudden, but… you saw the start of the war. What do you think each of us, on the home front, can do to end this war?"

The three looked at each other quietly before Nagase finally spoke. "I guess for now, each one of us must continue to think about the best course of action we can take." With that, she stood up with her half-finished meal, put it in with the rest of the finished trays, and went through the door to the crew quarters.

Blaze sighed. "This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better..." he glanced over towards where Grimm was and stood. "Excuse me," he said. Albert nodded as Wardog's number four pilot went to talk to the trainee.

"Come by my room later," Chopper said. "Sorry, but… I need to sort through things before I'm really ready to talk."

"Of course," he said with a nod as Blaze returned, Grimm leaving the mess hall behind them. "And you, Lieutenant?"

"No offense, but I'd rather wait as well. See what Command thinks is classified or not." He glanced at the clock. "... should probably call my mother too, let her know I'm alright. Assuming we're still allowed to…"

XXXXXX

1805 Hours

Sand Island - Crew Quarters

"Hey Kid," Chopper said and Mason looked up from his bunk as the number three pilot of Wardog walked in.

"You could've knocked," he retorted as he sat up. "What is it?"

"How… how did you ignore that sight? The people burning in the waves." Chopper's face was stricken.

"I didn't," he admitted as he glanced away towards his desk. "I just focused on what I could do: saving the Kestrel. Probably the same thing Edge did."

"It can't be that easy," the larger pilot said as he pulled up a chair and sat in it.

"No, it isn't," Mason answered as he shivered. "But if we lock up, we'll end up like that or worse, get others killed. That's why boot camp hammered us so much about not thinking about the enemy as people."

"True," Chopper admitted. "But… I can't get it out of my head. And well… I'm the one who caused it! I shot that MiG down and let it fall!"

"That Yuke was trying to kill you," he immediately pointed out as he finally understood what was getting at the pilot. "And if he succeeded or just decided to move on, he probably would have killed others too."

"But I shot him down right into those sailors! Right into the guy who saved my ass just a minute earlier!"

"You can't control where an enemy jet lands. A jet goes down, and someone's day is inevitably going to be wrecked. Why do you think we try to avoid engaging over urban areas if we can help it?" Mason paused to let that sink in before continuing. "Look, you shot the guy down. Maybe you could have put a few more rounds in him to keep him from controlling his descent, maybe it would have just wasted your ammo and left the Kestrel without someone covering it." He pushed himself up and looked down at Chopper.

"We can't deal with 'what if' or 'maybe I could have', at least not now. You were defending yourself. It was the Yuke pilot who decided to kill a bunch of people in lifejackets trying to survive."

Chopper shifted uncomfortably and the room remained silent for a couple minutes before the older pilot finally sighed. "Yeah, I guess," he finally said. "I dunno, feels like a shitty way to do our job of covering people."

Mason simply nodded in agreement. "But you were trying to cover them. Really, it speaks volumes about you and that pilot. He got shot down, he decided to attack people just trying to get off their burning ship or were defenseless. You pulled past your own horror and kept going."

"Heh," Chopper scoffed, "Lemme guess, the real test will be when I have to put it down?"

Mason paused uncomfortably at the thought, but before he could muster an answer Chopper had already left the room.

XXXXXXX

1915 Hours

Sand Island - Hanger B

"Edge?"

Kei looked up at Pops and nodded. "I'm just here to check on my plane," she explained and the mechanic nodded.

"It's over there," he said as he nodded over to where it was. "Moved it over here so I could check some of the details while Grimm's helping."

"Grimm?" she asked dumbfounded just before she heard an engine powering up and turned to where the sound was coming from.

"He's helping me with Bartlett's spare plane," Pops explained. "Okay Grimm, how're the turbines?"

"Good!" the replacement pilot called. "Everything looks steady, fuel's going normally!"

"Why're you prepping his fighter?" she asked. "He's… he's not available anymore."

"Captain's orders," Pops said evasively before gesturing towards her plane, which had six new Sidewinder missiles loaded on. The arming pins had been left in, however, ready to be pulled for an emergency launch if something happened. "Anyways, I wanted to talk to you guys. New planes."

"What do you mean?" she asked with a frown.

"Look, you've done well in these Tigers, but their age is catching up to them fast. You need something newer. Fresh airframes, more advanced electronics. These things have been in use since they were first used by Osea."

She paused; she had never thought about that. "How long do you think they'll last?"

"In combat?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hard to say, it depends on how much damage you take and how many replacement parts we get. There's only so much of a beating they can take before the airframes just give. But at some point, you'll need something new."

"Won't we get new planes when we're assigned to a combat squadron?" After all, Wardog was a training unit, with its graduates moving on to other units once finished.

"Normally, yes, but I have a feeling that Wardog is going to be changed from an auxiliary training unit to a frontline force quite soon."

Kei remained quiet as Pops lead her to the plane and put a hand on the fuselage where most pilots painted their kills.

"War always starts suddenly, then halts," he said. "You dive in or rush to react, fight hard to just survive, and then you have the time to sit back and understand what happened. So, how're you holding up?"

"Well enough," she said as she opened the access to the machine gun to check it. Fully loaded. "A bit tired, though."

"You'll get used to the long flights," he said as Grimm was talking with another mechanic to continue their checks on Bartlett's spare plane. "They'll get even longer, too. Make sure you bring something to keep you from getting bored in flight; that's the worst thing that could happen to a pilot in an overseas trip."

"Overseas?" she turned sharply. "As in, Yuktobania?"

"If we're at war with them, anything is possible. President Harling might prefer to play defensive, but even he knows that to really hammer home a defense, you need to take out the bases they launched from."

She nodded slowly. A quick strike to prevent more attacks on Osean territory made sense. "Right. And hope we don't have to invade them properly…"

Pops nodded. "Also, you better start thinking about nose art. You're getting to the stage where pilots start putting on the decals. Since you aren't putting your kills on…"

"I'll think of something," she said evasively.

"Good," he said when a loud noise suddenly cut whatever train of thought he had off.

XXXXXXX

1927 Hours

Sand Island - Crew Quarters

"Who will be the flight lead tomorrow?" Chopper asked incredulously as he looked at the journalist. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you." He dropped down on the couch and sighed in relief as the CD player was blaring with one of his favorite records. Kirk sat down at his feet as he looked towards Genette.

"We're an auxiliary squadron, you know," he elaborated, "so his highness, the Lieutenant-Colonel, will just come in from the mainland and take over. That's all." He leaned back with a sigh. "Whew, I love this sound! Calms me down… I just might sleep well tonight!"

"I heard that the one who broke the Captain's heart fifteen years ago was a recon major in the Yuke army," Genette said loudly to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, I did my history homework," he answered as he pushed himself forward. "We were allies back then. Man, the base commander sure wasn't being subtle about making accusations! Ahem," he coughed into his hand and put his left hand behind his back. "'Was there anything suspicious about the Captain's behavior', he says! Hell, I'm more suspicious of the screw in his damn head!"

"Why would Bartlett be considered a Yuke spy?" Genette asked, frowning as the music hit its chorus.

"Can you take it all the way / can you take it all the way / just shove it in my face…"

"Hey, he thought you were a spy when you were just doing your damn job! Parachute that happens to push you towards an enemy ship is treason by that standard, forget the wind! I wouldn't look too far into it; it's been fifteen years, I doubt those two kept in touch."

"Maybe," Genette said with a shrug when the alarm suddenly went off.

Chopper groaned, hands in his face and falling onto the couch. "Ugh, an air raid? Are you kidding me? Gimmie a break man…"

XXXXXXX

1930 Hours

Sand Island - Hanger B

"Take some of the spare flight gear in the C-130 and get in the air!" Pops shouted as the siren cut through the hanger. "Go!"

Kei didn't think, she sprinted for the transport jet and ripped the door open, grabbing a spare suit and an unmarked helmet, slipping it on as she hurried back to her jet. Pops was barking orders to his crew as she got back.

"What about the others?" she asked. Blaze and Chopper were both in the crew quarters still.

"Get in the air, you'll have to cover them so they can take off," Pops answered as a pair of mechanics quickly pulled the arming pins from the Sidewinders. "Here, lemme give you a boost…"

She nodded as he crouched down, lifting a foot for him to grab and using her other to jump up with his push to get her into her fighter's cockpit and running through the preflight checklist as fast as she could.

"Okay," she said as she finished and activated the turbines, "Wardog Two to Control Tower - I'm taxiing onto the runway now: requesting permission to launch!"

"Permission granted Edge, protect our base!" the control tower operative called as an MIM-72 Chaparral was being rolled past the hanger as the base security forces were hurriedly getting its missile system active. An old relic from the cold war with Yuktobania… now being used to fight the enemy it was intended to battle. As she reached the runway, she realized that there was something poetic about the fact that a technically retired piece of equipment was now Osea's first line of defense.

"Enemy will arrive in three minutes on vector… uh… two-six-niner. And… first wave is a flight of Fishbeds!" the control tower warned. "Edge, be careful!"

"Roger!" she answered as she shoved the throttle to full. "Pops?"

"Do what you can but stay alive! Your job is to make sure Blaze and Chopper can get airborne, understood?"

"Edge copies. Tower, do we have any support?"

"The Lieutenant-Colonel, maybe," the controller answered as she lifted off. "Otherwise it's up to you guys!"

"Pops, what about the Captain's spare plane?"

"Don't worry about it, focus on staying alive!" the mechanic answered. "Hang on, I need to help Blaze and Chopper!"

She nodded slowly as the first wave of enemy fighters was approaching as she entered a holding pattern over the base, waiting for the right moment to engage. Taking on four Fishbeds alone was suicide, so she waited to give the ground a chance to help.

"Jericho Two launching missile!"

As the Fishbeds approached the perimeter of Sand Island and she accelerated towards them, the flight split as the anti-aircraft fire from the ground opened up, a missile from a Chaparral spiraling into the air and hitting the leader as the rest of the formation broke.

"Edge, engaging!"

She dove after one that was flying towards the main hanger, dropping in behind it as the pilot realized she was there. The Fishbed abandoned the attack and started to evade, pulling away from the base and weaving side to side. She slid her finger to the gun trigger and squeezed down, firing the cannons and a few rounds hit the wing but did minimal damage. The pilot still broke towards the west and she disengaged.

"This is Captain Hamilton to all ground forces: Screen the runway. Wardog Squadron, get in the air NOW! The main wave is approaching as we speak!"

She flew past the hanger as one of the Fishbeds dropped behind her and fired a missile. She pulled up hard to the right and decelerated, praying that the pilot did not match her move perfectly. The plane shook as several bullets hit her left wing, but the Fishbed had shot past her and she was now on its tail as she pushed the throttle back up.

"Chopper, hurry up and take off!" Blaze shouted as she dropped in behind her target as it was turning back around towards Sand Island. "I'm stuck right behind you!"

"The turbines won't start up!" Chopper answered. "Come on, come on, come on!"

"Edge, Fox Two!" she warned as she released a missile from the left launch rail. The Fishbed pilot tried to evade, but made his maneuver too soon and the missile was just able to compensate, exploding off its left side and sending it spiraling into the runway.

"Shit shit shit!" she cursed as it crashed into one of the army trucks that had been driving past the two grounded Wardogs.

"Whoa!" Chopper shouted as the fireball erupted from the impact. "Damn it, come on - THERE we go! Chopper, taking off!"

"Got it, I'll cover you two." she warned as she dropped behind the last Fishbed still in the air over Sand Island when one of the Chaparrals hit it with a missile.

"The first enemy wave has passed by! Blaze, Chopper, launch now before they can bounce you on takeoff!"

"Roger that Pops. Blaze taking off!"

Kei exhaled as she watched the two taking off and checked her radar. At least a dozen contacts incoming in the next wave, being joined by the surviving Fishbed.

And there were only three of them to hold them all off along with any anti-air Sand Island had. If there was anything out there to help them, they were going to need it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

End Chapter

Author's Notes:

- I originally wanted to integrate more of the St. Hewlett attack dialogue like the crews panicking, commentary about a barge needing to get out of the way, one guy using Phalanx fire right into the docks, etc., but I just couldn't weave it in. So, I left it with the one memorable 'not a drill' line and focused on Wardog since this is their story.

- Why does Swordsman have wingmen? Well… it doesn't make sense for him to be the only jet from the Kestrel and he's described as being part of Shorebird Squadron. So why not give him some wingmen to flesh out the Osean numbers when the Kestrel is around?

- Now, anyone who's played or watched First Flight probably recalls Edge being the first one off. However, it also had fighter jets duking it out over you while Chopper has problems getting his turbine to start, which are nowhere to be seen in actual gameplay. Well, I'm not copying the games 1:1, and it seemed like an appropriate thing to do. Especially with the conversation between Pops and Edge.

- As a note - the MIM-92 Chaparral was retired by the US back in '98. The idea was that Sand Island has a lot of old hand-me-downs since they're a training base. Plus, I always liked that missile truck… (I blame World in Conflict)