Assault Six: Aggressors

"We're being assigned to what?!"

Luc of the Twilight squadron's second fighter wing was struggling to keep his voice in check. Günter stood behind his office desk with several transfer papers spread out. The third and second divisions of their squadron had received new orders from central since the inaugural flight one week ago.

Alicia had been assigned the status of flight leader for the most desired of the fighter wings. The three Typhoon fighters were her flight. Kurando and Tsuki were assigned to the twin seated Mirage M and Luc was given command of the F-16 XL division. The young Captain of Epsilon Flight as the F-16 XL and F-2 had been assigned, were to be sent off to the far northeastern front at Heierlark Air Force base to act as an aggressor squadron with Alpha Flight, Alicia's fighter wing.

Kurando and Tsuki's Theta Flight were being reassigned to McNealy Air Force base to replace a single pilot who'd been transferred a week ago to Sand Island. Who that person was though was lost to them, though the Brigadier General and Major General always seemed to have a knowing smirk on their faces whenever he was brought up.

"Captain, I don't have to repeat myself, it's in your dispatch orders."

"I understand that sir, it's just . . ."

The pilot picked up a sheet of paper that had his mission details written out on them. The concept of playing the role of an aggressor squadron was appealing, but the rumors about the razzing such pilots received from flight instructors was legendary. To make matters worse, young pilots were not going to help the situation in the slightest. The chances were that the razzing would be even worse since they weren't really much older than the very trainees that they would be 'targets' for.

"Listen Luc, I know the rabble and razzing that comes with being a member of an aggressor squadron that doesn't yet have a combat rep, but you and the others in Twilight do have one."

Just as the younger man was about to ask what he meant, a knock at the door drew their attention before a voice floated through.

"Captain Lavitze reporting as ordered General."

"Enter."

The door slid open to reveal Alicia in her formal dress uniform. Unlike the rest of the bases in Osea, Fafnir was well known among the other bases as the "Ceremonial Air Base". Their uniforms were different, unique to each squadron and rank. It was almost as if their base was a circus instead of an actual state of the art combat base.

"Captain Lavitze, it's good of you to show up. Please take a seat; I have some matters to brief you and Luc on."

The woman took her seat beside the leader of Epsilon Flight. He fidgeted in his chair as Günter pulled another set of mission details from his desk. The war ace took a long look at Luc again before handing the stack of papers to the Typhoon pilot. Luc and Kyle, both pilots in the same flight, were aggressive and more than slightly reckless for their planes' specs. He'd seen too many of their kind shot down during the Belkan War over B7R.

Kyle's recklessness was to be expected of the brash fighter jock. Luc's almost vengeful flying style was more like a mercenary than a soldier, and it was out of place for a person who was always analyzing everything he read twice.

Alicia and Kim, numbers one and two of Alpha Flight respectively, matched each other quite well over their final training days under his tutelage. Despite the cemented teamwork of the two, he wanted to have them challenged by their third member. The ruckus caused by his decision was felt across the base, though he never asked Alicia her personal opinion.

"Alicia, I would like to know your personal opinion of your third wingman."

The flight lead looked up from the stack of papers in her lap with a slightly puzzled expression traversing its way across her face.

"Pardon me?"

"What's your personal evaluation of your number three?"

"Well sir, he's well educated, and exceptionally well trained as a fighter pilot for a transfer from the November City area. His credentials look good and . . ."

"Your personal opinions Captain."

Alicia let her shoulders slump and she released a heavy sigh before looking at her superior with an uncertain pouting face.

"Permission to speak freely?"

A small smirk crossed his face as he nodded approval. He had a good feeling what was coming, though Luc was apparently lost.

"With all due respect sir, he's a complete jerk! He doesn't talk or answer simple questions, not even if it's just a common courtesy. His hair is too unruly for military requirements and he's too composed in flight, it's like he's a flying robot."

The words flew from her mouth faster than the Typhoon she piloted was capable of going. Luc sat with his mouth slightly agape. Ghost Eagle's flight leader chuckled at her flustered face. To say that his hair was unruly was one thing, but, didn't that make his own hair also unruly?

"I know what you're saying Alicia, but there is no doubting his flight skill. 1st Lieutenant Ysionris Gavotte will be flying your number three as per my orders."

Luc cringed at the name. Alicia calmed herself before nodding. She didn't have anything against the man personally, but professionally he was an enigma now more than he ever was during their academy days. Of course, his half-Belkan blood didn't help matters, as everyone knew the enmity felt toward Belka.

While many fighter jocks in the Osean Air Defense Force despised Belkans, those born to another parent who loved a Belkan were particularly hated. Ysionris had received that and worse during the plebe year, the freshman year of the academy. Yet contrary to the popular belief, he took the jeering and down talking in stride and rarely ever made a comment, though on the rare occasion he would help out others who came under taunting. He was one of the few cadets at the coronation ceremony who didn't have family around him.

"Luc, you and Kyle have our other 'problem' pilot as the chain of command calls him."

"You mean Johnson? C'mon Commander."

The scowl that Günter gave the young Captain told him that he would not allow such complaints. Lane K. Johnson, another half-Belkan in Twilight squadron had a large surprise for the base when the assistant head of the kitchen staff at the base had been revealed to be his older half-brother Joshua J. Johnson. The two spent a fair amount of time with Gavotte, not because of their Belkan bloodlines, but that both members of the fighter wing had lost their parents and relatives just before or during the Belkan conflict.

Their flying was also considered the best of the Twilights. The Major General had mumbled something about Knight Aces during the coronation flight they had made when the two Belkans made a hard, low altitude, supersonic fly by past each other while doing a loose four point roll. Rumor had it that Günter had laughed about the superiors visiting from Central dropping their cigars at the spectacle.

"Johnson is a superb pilot Luc and I know that you know this. Belkan blood or no, he is an asset to your squadron. Unlike the two of you, he follows his orders and has a broad outlook on the battlefield while you and Kyle have a kind of tunnel vision style of flying."

"A tunnel vision style sir?"

"The kind of flying where you're so focused on the target at hand, you go blind to everything save that one object. That's fine for the attack role, but in the skies of a dogfight you have to be able to analyze the whole air zone at once. He will be your support and cover during those situations."

"Yes sir."

Luc slumped slightly, seeing the logic in the pilot's reasoning. He was trying to curb the weak points of each flight group to increase their survivability. It wasn't easy to swallow, being Usean during the war as a kid and seeing his mother abused by Belkan soldiers during the occupation of Directus, but those were grunts and Johnson seemed like a nice guy judging from how his half brother laughed with him over chow times.

"Good, I wish you all the best of fortune. I'm proud of you. Dismissed."

That was three days ago.

Right now, he was looking down at the snow and ice covered mountains of Norde Belka. Kyle, aka Gunslinger and Johnson were flying a high stack formation. The past five hours had consisted of making fake bombing runs on the base to get the nuggets on the ground used to scrambling and engaging actual moving targets.

Alicia and her Alpha flight were supposed to be in the air to replace them within the hour, so he wasn't too tired, seeing as they slept late as they weren't needed until ten in the morning.

"Control to Twilight Epsilon, you're clear for the attack run."

"Roger."

"Hey Einstein, this is getting pretty dull don't you agree?"

Luc frowned as they Immelman turned back in the direction of the base.

"What makes you say that Gunslinger?"

"After the real fight back at Fafnir and the training with Ghost Eagle Squadron, these flights are cakewalks!"

Chuckling from their third drew their attention after they completed the maneuver and began the race to the base. Luc, callsign Einstein glanced over his shoulder at the F-2 at his four o' clock.

"What's the funny part Freezer Burn?"

He grinned as he said that.

The nugget at the time had garnered the most embarrassing history for his nickname when he and Joshua were in the back of the mess hall kitchen helping the stocking when the power grid in the area fritzed and the lights had gone out. By the time the lights reactivated, someone had closed the door to the freezer they were in by accident and the automated pressure locks had gone online, locking them inside for an hour before one of the staff noticed they were gone for lunch mass.

The two family members were rushed to the medics for frostbite treatment. The situation had been embarrassing to report to superiors, but looking back on it, it was pretty humorous. One would have thought a fighter pilot would die in the skies as a blazing fireball, not as a frozen ice cube. Günter had commented on it the day he was able to get back in the skies and the name had stuck.

"Y'know, for an aggressor squadron, we can fly circles around their flight instructors and then some. No wonder Gunslinger says we're bored."

"Freezer Burn, cut the chatter."

"Yet the guys in the coffee tower are always finding ways to thaw out my fun."

Kyle laughed with Luc while the officer at the communications desk cursed under his breath at Johnson's sarcasm. The fighters could see the runway coming up on the horizon. The three Epsilon Flight members were surprised to see a trio of F-5 Tigersharks in the air already.

"Those three got into the air pretty quick. I wonder which of the nugget groups this is."

As the two trios closed in on each other, the colors of the F-5E Tiger II's were a visible amalgamation of dark orange and black stripes. The tail fin design that Luc could barely make out at the 800mph head on pass was enough to jolt his senses. The two flight groups broke formations to orient themselves into battle patterns. Johnson broke into the radio chatter.

"Surprise, surprise, it's Captain Friedrick's unit."

"The Flying Tigers aggressor squadron? Why are they up and not the nuggets?"

"Gunslinger! Cut the chatter and engage. Let's rock and roll."

"How cliché Einstein . . ."

"Stuff it Freezer Burn!"

Lane Johnson was in the last vestiges of his Immelman Turn while a hard pumping rock tune could be heard in the background just underneath his instrument panel noise. Clicking the top joystick selector switch, he began to toggle through his weapons layout panel. As the AIM-9 Sidewinder icon lit up, he let his thumb off the top on the stick and clicked the switch just to the left of the stick and lit up the leader of the rival squadron as his current combat target.

Digital onboard weaponry was the only thing equipped to the hard points and wing rails, but the physics engine was quite accurate. Sloppy piloting wouldn't help anyone get better. Satisfied with his selection for the moment, he waited for further orders from Einstein.

The flight leader of Epsilon Twilight ran a cursory glance over the flight positions and saw that their opponents were utilizing the "Fishing Pole" tactic. The formation consisted of two fighters flying a linear pattern while a third pilot flew just beyond the missile lock range as a decoy. When the decoy or "bait" was pursued, he would lower airspeed and the others, acting as the "pole", would accelerate as if reeling in the catch.

The extreme risk of the tactic required an extremely hot hand at the decoy's stick. Before the formation had received its name, it had been employed by the Belkans over the B7R airspace during the war fifteen years ago.

"Einstein, engagement orders."

Johnson had moved up to his wing as they continued onward in a spread formation. The rival aggressor squadron kept their formation as Epsilon closed the gap. Luc knew that Alpha Flight was probably watching with the nuggets on the ground.

"Gunslinger, Freezer Burn, go trail and follow. I'm going to go nibble the bait."

"No offense Captain, but just how the hell are you going to do that?"

"Freezer Burn, you and Gunslinger are more maneuverable in a dog fight. Crack the pole while snag the bait."

Kyle could be heard over the radio laughing at the idea. Essentially, they were duplicating the strategy. A mirror duel as Günter had put it during flight training.

"Understood Einstein, go and we'll cover you. Johnson, let's move."

A lone double click on the comm. was the only response from the pilot as he fell into a dual formation with Kyle. The fighters began dancing across the skies.

Down on the tarmac Alicia and Kim were sitting on a bench just outside their hangar bay doors as the nuggets watched the mock dog fight further out on the parade grounds. It looked like Luc wanted to play a mirror duel, which he was good at whenever the opportunity arose.

"Do you think he'll be able to emerge the victor Captain?"

The two women looked toward the newcomer as an older man in his early forties with a Captain's rank insignia on his flight suit. He was the only aggressor pilot at the base who could give the instructors here a run for their money. Kim saluted out of instinct as Alicia did out of respect to his seniority. Just behind him, Lieutenant Gavotte saluted his flight lead before joining them on the bench.

"Good to see you sir. I don't really know the possible outcome. I am curious as to why your group was sent up in place of a nugget squad Captain Friedrick."

Captain Frank Friedrick, formerly a Belkan fighter pilot who was shot down over Ustio territory during their Operation Crossbow. He was the first pilot with notoriety to be shot down by the now known ace: Demon Lord.

He had been twenty-eight at that time. Shortly after the war, he'd been surprised to find Cipher on his doorstep with a smile and sincere concern for his well being after the war. Through their strange, over-lunch conversation which stretched into dinner; Frank realized that the infamous Demon pilot was more human than many men across the world. He was a man who carried out his duty while still holding on to honor and dignity, valor and respect not just for allies, but enemies as well. After all, they had all been pawns to the top brass of both sides at some point during the Belkan War, all they did was carry out their duty. He smiled at the memory.

"I wanted to see just how well your superiors trained you pilots in unpredictable occurrences."

Back in the air, Luc hit his weapon toggle switch again, the wing panel lit up the mid ranged Sparrow SAAM as his HUD cursory changed to the broken dotted line circle that acted as the targeting scope for the high tech arrow. Pulling the throttle back to cut the afterburner, he settled the HUD on the Tiger as he closed the distance at a slower pace. The "ping box" as he liked to call it began ticking off its lethal chime as it tracked the fighter before blaring its death song as the box went red at the ten thousand foot marker.

'C'mon, which way are you going to jink? Left or right?'

His mind didn't even bother to register the warning bleeps that his instrument panel was giving him.

"Gunslinger, go to Matra Magic XAAM and pop two on each."

"Roger, specials going hot."

The two Tigers had begun to close the gap as they 'reeled' in Luc. The two aggressor pilots seemed to ignore the XAAM locks until Kyle flicked the safety cover beside the weapon selector for the missile launch tab and tapped it twice. The two fighters split in a hurry as the digital readouts traced two missiles on each target. Johnson broke formation in pursuit of the left fighter, so Kyle break rolled starboard to continue putting the heat on the former hunters.

Luc also tapped the missile release switch twice, sending two screaming banshees at the lone Tiger. To his dismay, the pilot pulled up and over as he began to Immelman. Glancing at his HUD altitude, he knew he was cutting it close, but he decided to take the gambit. The missile lock warnings had stopped, telling him that Gunslinger and Freezer Burn had the other two going evasive. He inverted the fighter while pulling back the throttle and pulling the stick back.

The moment his nose pointed straight down, he shoved the throttle to the red zone, activating the afterburner and piling on the G forces as he dove for the deck. Just as the altitude warning began blaring in his earpiece, he began to level off at 130 ft. as he glanced upward, looking desperately for the target. The tiger pilot was directly above him as he looked up into the belly of the aircraft. Pulling back on the stick again, he brought the Falcon attack craft to bear on the Tiger and tapped the guns trigger as the piper came up.

"Rounds out."

The fighter jinked left, but the cursory remained for a solid three seconds and the targeting reticule blared the kill status. Luc grinned

"Splash one."

Kyle flew beside the opponent's fighter he'd just 'killed' with a well timed Sidewinder QAAM and was waiting for Freezer Burn to finish up his target. The two remaining fighters weaved in and out of each other's targeting circles like crazed bees. The Tiger pilot was currently in the advantage position, or on six.

Just as the fighters aligned themselves perfectly for a guns shot, the half Belkan pilot slammed the airbrake and dropped his flaps, momentarily stalling the bird into a free fall as the Tiger shot past at 180 knots. The flaps immediately came up and the afterburner kicked in as Freezer Burn brought the nose up and called out his shot.

"Fox three, Fox three!"

A half second later, the kill sound went off as the final Tiger was "downed".

As the two squadrons formed up, Heierlark base control keyed in their landing order. The six fighters screamed in their landings and taxied to the parade lane to park for the day. All the nuggets were hooting for the winners and such a great display of flight technique. Alicia and her flight were clapping their hands at a well fought dogfight. Frank couldn't help but feel impressed. It had been sometime since his group got a beating like that. From what he could see on his men's faces, they didn't mind in the least.

To have an exhilarating dogfight instead of just training newbies was a fresh change of pace. He couldn't be happier with himself. Out of the corner of his eye, the Lieutenant Colonel of the base was approaching the tarmac.

His salute prompted Alpha Flight and the others in the area to stand and salute as well. The Lt. Col. Miller was a good man with a sensible amount of sense for a higher up. He too had fought in the Belkan War and saw Frank as an equal who only had fought for his country. The two were fast friends and were slated to be relatives soon if his younger sister married Miller's younger brother. It seemed pretty likely.

The expression on Miller's face however, was anything but friendly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your aircraft are now on combat level 3 alert and will be armed immediately. Twilight Squadron's Epsilon and Alpha flights are to prepare to sortie immediately. Yuktobania has just declared war on us."

The news drove shocked silence into all present. Gavotte yawned.

"Sorry Mr. Miller, but haven't we been allies with them for the past fifteen plus years? What happened?"

"That may be so Gavotte, but right now we need you in the air. Hewlitt Naval Base is under attack and civilians are included in the casualties. Suit up!"

Looking back at their fighters as crews began to detach the virtual weapons with the genuine article, Epsilon flight grew quiet as Alpha flight rushed to suit up. This would be their third taste of real combat. And this time, it would be official. Twilight was approaching.

Up Next in A Blue Dove for the Princess: Hellfire Seas

Lane K. Johnson, and his family are the ideas of Dark Flame Lord, or SPARTAN-275.

Ysionris Gavotte is the idea of Bond 4154.

Spy-der: I must request, due to the previous two pilot submissions by the above contributors, that you change the ethnic background of the character. As grounded as the Belkans, Ustio, Usea, Osea, and Yuktobania are in the Ace Combat world, I'd like to use something fresh. Ameni, is the location of the Razgriz Straits. Sapin, is a Mexican-esque country. Erusia would be a nice twist.

Aquila: I thank you for the interest you have in this fic. I would be most grateful if you did submit a pilot. Using the review ability is fine. Please, however, observe my request to Spy-der above. Thank you.

Also, due to my lack of forethought, I need two WIZOs for Theta flight. They are the bombardier navigators and usually handle weapon ops for the aircraft while the pilot, naturally, fly the thing. Females are welcome. The same information as a pilot is also needed for the navigators.