'Holy fuck.' Sebastian said out loud in front of Ben and Melody as he read the situation report from this morning's "engagement". 'It's a good thing that the older Yuke ships have crappy anti-air or you would have bit the golden bullet.'

'In my defense, sir, according to the CO of the destroyer in question there was an incident from one of their crewmen.' Ben replied. 'They dropped their fire control lock and that missile just… kinda went straight. It was an accident on their part.'

'Or so I've read.' Sebastian sighed and dropped the folder from where he was reading their mission report. 'The official Yuktobanian response is that the incident was caused by a fire controlman who panicked. They're commending the restraint of Verusan forces on the scene for not returning fire even when you two had them dead to rights.'

'Is that a compliment or an insult?' Melody asked, not sure about her squadron leader's thoughts on the situation.

'On one hand, they did shoot at you and by our ROE you would have had permission to return fire.' Sebastian replied, leaning back in his chair and cracking his knuckles. 'On the other, shooting back definitely would have kick-started a war and that's not what we want, not against the Yukes.'

Ben and Melody said nothing. After a few seconds, Sebastian stood up.

'Alright, you're dismissed. Go get some rest.' The commander ordered his subordinates.

'Aye, sir.' Ben answered and turned to leave. Melody didn't follow him immediately. Now free of any taskings for the next portion of the day, Ben's first thought was to go to his squadron's dorm room and crash. He had been up all night and he was tired. Navigating from Sebastian's office, through hallways, past their assigned hangar, up a set of stairs until he finally reached his room, Ben opened the door, sat down on his rack and took off his boots before swinging properly onto the bed and crashing.

January 28th, 2019, 0600hrs

The Red Hall, Cinigrad, Yuktobania

Yawning as he was hit by sunlight coming through the windows of his office, Mikhal Jovhavas hadn't had much sleep and he was feeling it. A coffee would have been nice, but he had a meeting to attend.

'Talk to me, Orbol. Any insight gained from our incursions?' Mikhal asked the defense minister currently sitting on his desk in full camo. Orbol had an open dossier in his hands, and there was a small stack of them sitting on the desk next to the admiral.

'Long story short, the Versuan military is on high alert and we didn't even need to insert agents to figure that out.' Orbol explained, throwing the dossier to Mikhal. The latter caught it with reflexes that defied his age. Mikhal rounded the desk and took a seat in his leather chair which prompted Orbol to properly stand up and not sit on the Prime Minister's table.

'You've given me a crew incident report for a destroyer… the Gumrak.' Mikhal read what he had been given. 'Turning senile already, admiral?'

Orbol smirked. 'You should read it.'

Mikhal complied, flipping through the pages. When he was done, Mikhal dropped the folder and put his face in his hands.

'Opachki.' He muttered. 'Be honest with me, John, did we just kick off a war?'

'Negative. The Verusans must have figured that it was a mistake and didn't shoot back.' Orbol reported on that matter. Officially the two countries were still neutral with each other. That was good. For now.

'So… Operation Soothsayer is still a go?'

'Not at the moment. Task Group Richmann had delays getting out of port because of mechanical problems on their carrier. They should be in position for operation start by tomorrow morning.' Orbol answered that. Mikhal smiled sadly.

'Good. And of Entropy?'

In reply to that, Orbol fished something out of his shoulder pocket. A key with the attached chain.

'I assume you've got yours on you.' Orbol put the key back where he found it. 'Seydich is in Okchabursk, House at Eastwind. If we need it, we can access it.'

Mikhal sighed. 'Let's hope it doesn't come to that.'

Later that day

1800hrs

King's Point Naval Base, Verusa

'And now our watch begins.' Kirra said as the clock ticked over to 6PM. She and Ben were both on the Alert 5 rotation for that night.

'And now our watch begins.' Ben confirmed this fact when he checked his wristwatch, an old digital model. It was starting to get dark outside their hangar, but at least the runway's confines could still be seen with the marker lights that surrounded it. Ben sat down on the lounge that somebody had brought into the hangar.

'So,' Kirra asked a question to kick off the night. 'How was it getting shot at?'

Ben shrugged. 'Exciting, I guess. I had hand tremors for a little while after.'

'Sure you don't still have them?' Kirra poked a bit of fun at her roommate and wingman. Ben held his hand up flat. Steady as a rock. He was fine. 'Alright, alright.'

'It was fucking weird though... no Yuke activity and then boom, a squadron attempted an airspace breach with bombs and a tank landing ship tried to enter our territorial waters. 'Ben reported the situation. None of it added up to him.

'They're pushing for something.' Kirra guessed.

'But for what? Gaulle is all the way up at the border. If they're after the terrorists, why would they be causing distractions all the way down here?' Ben explained to Kirra his thoughts on the situation at large.

'Speaking of Gaulle,' Kirra found an interest in the region. 'I don't understand why the chief above doesn't let us Verusan grunts kick in Sunset's door. A few Storm Shadows and we could eradicate their headquarters. Everybody knows where it is.'

Ben sighed. 'Fucking politics. We own the area, but the consensus is they can deal with their own problems, but they either can't be bothered or don't want to.'

'In their defense, nobody knows what would happen if-' Kirra said but was cut off by Sebastian entering the hangar.

'Tick tock, fuckheads.' He said to make his presence known. Melody and Angus were both with him and the entire trio were dressed as if they were about to get airborne. 'We've got a mission.'

Ben sat up on the couch. 'What's the go?'

'AWACS picked up a large Yuktobanian surface movement about a fifteen minute flight out to the east. Base commander wants us to get eyes on and observe them.' Sebastian summarised.

'Ah.' Ben understood. He picked up his helmet. 'What are we waiting for?'

'Damn straight. Werewolf, let's get airborne!' Sebastian ordered his cronies. The four pilots he had at his disposal followed his order and scrambled to their fighters. All of them were armed and Ben and Kirra's Rafales were already fuelled so they were just waiting on the ground crew to fuel up Sebastian, Melody and Angus.

'Werewolf Squadron, you're good to go.' The crew chief of the ground team reported. In sync all five pilots started up their aircraft, deafening the hangar with the noises of ten turbofan engines spooling up. Ben hit a button and his aircraft's canopy came down around him, sealing him off from the outside world.

'Vamp, take us out.' Sebastian ordered the fourth man in the squadron. Ben pushed the thrust lever forward and rolled out of the hangar, his wingmates following as space became available. Outside, what little light that was available was quickly disappearing, leaving the base in darkness.

'Tower, this is Werewolf Squadron, taxiing to runway Runway 06 Left.' Ben reported to the air traffic control tower.

'Tower acknowledges, Werewolf. Report your ship strength.' The ATC replied and asked for how many aircraft were on the runway.

'Five Rafales.' Ben answered.

'Understood. Werewolf, the pattern is clear, you are free to move to and take off.'

'Thank you, Tower. Werewolf out.' Ben signed off the radio. Moving in a perfect line town the taxiway, all five aircraft soon made it to the runway. Once he was lined up, Ben wasted no time in pushing thrust all the way forward. He zoomed down the asphalt and lifted off. Ten seconds later the other four were also wheels up.

'Squad, move to bearing 1-0-0, angels 40.' Sebastian ordered.

'Angels 40? Jesus christ that's high up.' Angus said. Angels 40 was forty thousand feet above ground level.

'Got a problem with heights?' Sebastian retorted. Angus scoffed.

'No, sir.' Angus said as the squadron pitched up at a 40 degree angle to quickly gain altitude.

January 28, 2019, 1810 Hours

Operation Rapier

The Pacific Ocean, close to Verusa

'An AWACS in the air defense zone over Arkhalis Island picked up a Yuktobanian Navy battle group making steam past them, before they changed bearing to point straight at King's Point. According to the wing commander, there are similar battle groups hovering around key military stations in coastal regions.'

'Fleet Command wants us to monitor this group and see what they're doing. Given what happened earlier this morning, and knowing that this group is significantly larger, keep your heads on a swivel. Something's not right.'

AIRCRAFT

Werewolf 1/Lips: Rafale M F4.2

Werewolf 2/Melody: Rafale M F4.2

Werewolf 3/Pounder: Rafale M F4.2

Werewolf 4/Vampire: Rafale M F4.2

Werewolf 5/Chimera: Rafale M F4.2

It was dark. Ben turned his helmet's integrated night vision and suddenly the skies were covered in a pale green glow. At the left end of the arrowhead formation that Sebastian had defaulted to, Ben looked to his right and saw the indicator lights of his wingmen as they climbed. He checked the altimeter. They were halfway to their designated flight altitude. Once they reached that altitude, everybody levelled off and turned to 1-0-0 degrees, east-south-east. Ben checked his weapon display panel to see what the ground crews had given him. A drop pod filled with fuel, two AGM-84 Harpoon anti-ship missiles, two GBU-12 laser-guided bombs, six Meteor long-range air to air missiles and two MICA short-range AAMs. A balanced loadout, all things considered.

'Werewolf Squadron, this is AWACS Lightning Keep, checking in, over.' The familiar voice of an AWACS crewman chimed in on their squad frequency.

'Reading you five-by-five, Lightning Keep. Got anything for us?' Sebastian greeted the AWACS to their radio freq.

'Yeah, actually. Your battle group has been designated Dingo. Their formation has changed to create a diamond around a single ship. Based on its radar signature and speed, it's most likely a carrier.' Lightning Keep reported to the squadron leader.

'Are they still on the same bearing?' Melody asked.

'The outer barrier ships are still moving directly west, but the flagship is moving slowly south.'

'Meteorological predictions were for slow winds pushing north. Probably anticipating recovery operations.' Chimera, Kirra, suggested.

'I concur. Mission's still the same. Keep moving, let's get eyes on.' Sebastian ordered. Nobody objected and flew on their previously defined bearing. As they approached the outer barrier that the escort ships were forming, Ben turned on his targeting pod, switched to the IR view and swivelled the camera until it was pointed at the ships thirty kilometres down below. Detail on the monitor wasn't brilliant because of the distance, but Ben could still recognise the outline of a Yuktobanian Zibo-class destroyer, or a Type 52D if he had been looking at an Aurelian ship. Panning the camera north, he saw another Zibo. This was a modern Yuktobanian surface group.

'Zibos.' Ben reported what he saw.

'They've got a Slava, probably running their fleet air defense coordination.' Pounder, Angus, saw a Slava-class cruiser to the south of two of the destroyers. Odd place to run air defense, Ben thought.

'Hey Lips, do you think they'll get mad if we penetrate their defense bubble and look at their carrier?' Chimera asked innocently.

'Well you didn't have to ask. Take Vamps with you, myself, Melody and Pounder will circle outside the cordon.' Sebastian encouraged her and Ben to penetrate the cordon and find the Yuktobanian flagship.

'Thanks.' Ben was apprehensive at being thrown into the middle of their air defense zone. 'Chimera, form up on my left wing, do some spying.' Ben gave the formation order as the senior of the two. They paired up and breached the cordon. No hostile reaction. The pair pushed onwards to whatever was in the centre of the fleet. Slewing his targeting pod to where the flagship was supposed to be, Lightning Keep's suspicions were confirmed, it was an aircraft carrier.

'Holy shit that's a busy deck.' Chimera almost whispered. Ben took a closer look at the flight deck. There were a lot of fighters, attackers and other supporting aircraft live looking at the thermal image. Right in that moment, two A-6 Intruders slipped their catapults and were launched off the bow of the ship. The carrier was conducting flight operations.

'Radar sighting confirmed as a Norinsk-class aircraft carrier. Looks like they're running full flight operations, there's at least three dozen aircraft spooled up on the deck.' Ben called it in.

'Flight ops? What do they have on the deck?' Sebastian pressed for more information.

'Uhhh.' Ben started counting aircraft. Eighteen plus two, twenty, four… 'Twenty Intruders, twenty Fulcrums, four Vikings, Christ knows what they have in storage.'

'That sounds like a strike package.' Lightning Keep chimed in. 'Doubt it's a coincidence. I'm making a request for additional support.'

'What the- I'm being locked!' Chimera suddenly yelled. Ben looked over his shoulder at the aircraft of his friend.

'Ditto, Werewolf, break west!' Sebastian urgently ordered, his RWR audible over the radio. A half-second later Ben's RWR warned him that one of the ships had acquired a tracking lock on him. The escorts had suddenly taken offense to their presence.

'Lips, who's targeting you?' Ben maintained his calm and asked, looking at the RWR display. He was being locked by the carrier.

Sebastian grunted. A quick glance of the tactical display showed he was turning.

'The fucken Slava, what are you thinking?' Sebastian said once he had levelled out. Something ticked in Ben's head.

'Shit.' He muttered. 'This isn't an accident! We're about to have incoming!'

'What?!' Melody was skeptical. Unfortunately, Ben was right. Ben heard a tone change in his RWR; a rapid beeping. A missile was in the air and was tracking to his location.

'Werewolf 4, taking missile fire, evading!' Ben called it, but he didn't move side to side to attempt to burn the missile out. He rolled so that his cockpit was facing the ocean far down below, pitched down and dived.

At the precise moment that the engagement had started, in the office of the Yuktobanian Defense Minister, Admiral Orbol had been reading a report given to him by one of his assistants when somebody barged through his door. Annoyed, he looked up. A young Navy lieutenant.

'I thought I asked not to be disturbed.' Obrol reminded the junior officer of his earlier request.

'Sorry sir, but this is urgent. Versuan aircraft have engaged Task Force Erikson.' The lieutenant reported in an innocently-sounding voice.

Orbol blinked twice.

'What?'

The RWR blaring loudly in his ear, Ben flipped the master arm switch and cycled for his two GBU-12s. A bombing overlay became visible on the HMD. His intention was to get his bombs on the forward catapults so that the carrier couldn't conduct flight operations. Not sure where the missile was that was targeting him, Ben continued his dive and hoped that the speed he had picked up was enough to evade it. Contrasting from the green seen through his night vision, Ben spotted a flash of white that quickly disappeared. An explosion. Coinciding with the flash his RWR reverted to slower-beeping radar warning. The missile had probably hit its max range and detonated a failsafe.

'Vamps what the fuck are you doing?!' Too late into his dive, Chimera had noticed Ben's plan of attack. He didn't reply, eyes glued on the forward section of the carrier. He crossed fifteen thousand feet. Halfway there. The RWR spiked again as another SAM was fired at Ben, this time from an escorting destroyer. Ten thousand feet. No way a bomb drop would reliably hit a moving target from that height, so Ben kept diving.

Warning. Maximum speed. The Rafale's automated advisor warned its pilot. Ben ignored it and kept. Outside he heard a faint explosion and some buffering of the airframe. The RWR stopped. Somehow Ben had gotten out of the killzone of a missile, he was descending that quickly.

'Mans is on a mission, fuck!' Pounder commented on Ben's aggressive dive towards the Yuktobanian ship.

Five thousand feet.

Ben could probably had lobbed his GBUs from that height and gotten a hit, but he stuck the dive just to get closer. He could sense the panic of crewmembers on the deck; from the angle Ben was approaching from, the carrier's close-in weapons system, or CIWS, couldn't engage him. One thousand feet was the cutoff point, Ben wouldn't get much more accurate with a bomb placement from a lower altitude. He lined up the drop pippite with the two aircraft readying for takeoff and pressed the trigger. Two GBU-12s released from their pylons and careened towards the carrier. Ben yanked back hard on the joystick, squeezing his abdomen for the extreme g-strain that was going to hit him through the maneuver.

Frederick Asper was almost jumping in and out of his flight seat impatiently waiting for the deck crew to greenlight his S-3 Viking for launch as hostile fighters approached. Just barely visible from the top of the canopy, Asper saw twin afterburners lighting up the night sky. He frowned and tapped his fingers against the joystick.

'Fisher 3, call your-' Asper listened to flight control speaking to him but was cut short by the impact of a GBU-12 busting through the airframe of his ASW aircraft. The only thing Asper heard before his demise was a loud metallic scream. The GBU penetrated the deck, passing through the catapult track before exploding, detonating the Viking with it. Further up the bow of the carrier on the opposite catapult a second GBU busted through and exploded, effectively eliminating both catapults. She was out of action.

Ben didn't waste time looking over his shoulder to see if he had hit it, instead focusing his attention on the cruiser he was going to shoot in the ass. Ignoring the fact that his RWR was warning him to the presence of another SAM after him, Ben pitched down both to drop altitude and to get his nose on the Slava-class vessel. Considering how old of a design those ships were, it didn't take very long for Ben to gain a lock for his two AGM-84Ds. He was already past the point of no return, no point holding back now. Ben pressed the trigger on his joystick twice and two Harpoon anti-ship missiles fell from their pylons, kickstarted their engines and shot towards the cruiser.

'Vampire, what's your status?' Sebastian asked while Ben checked over his shoulder for the incoming SAM. The carrier had launched it.

'Engaging the task force's cruiser.' Ben quickly said. He spotted a glow that was approaching fast. That was it. Ben then looked to the cruiser that he was approaching. Doing some quick math, he decided upon a course of action. Ben pressed his thrust as far forward as it would go, dived as close as he dared to the ocean surface and beelined for the cruiser, overshooting his own anti-ship missiles in the process.

'You bold bastard.' Sebastian was impressed with Ben's decision to take the attack to the Yukes. 'Get the fuck outta there ASAP, we're gonna wait for support to get on station before taking the fight to 'em.'

'Roger.' Ben acknowledged. He was quickly approaching the cruiser. Doing one final check to make sure the SAM was chasing him, Ben pulled slightly to the right so that he would be coming in from the Slava's aft starboard quarter. Doing this put him at an angle where one of the cruiser's CIWS batteries could fire at him. As he crossed into the maximum effective range of the AK-630 CIWS and tracers started to fill the skies in front of him, Ben initiated a sharp turn to the left that took him over the top of the cruiser, before diving and barely avoiding the crashing waves of the Pacific. This exposed him to the two CIWS mounts on the port side of the ship, but before they could gain a lock on Ben's Rafale M the SAM that had been chasing him slammed into the conning tower of the cruiser. While not packing a warhead that would be devastating to a ship like in a Harpoon or an SS-N-25, the SAM had enough shrapnel packed in there to poke holes through every exposed sensor array.

'Bullseye.' Ben muttered. The attack on the cruiser wasn't done just yet. His two Harpoons still had to hit it, and with the cruiser's major air search radars down and no independent CIWS batteries covering the stern of the ship, it was easy pickings for the two missiles that penetrated via the stern plate of the ship, getting thrown through bulkheads before exploding inside the ship. The cruiser shook from the explosions. The hull to both sides of where the missiles had struck bulged out before buckling completely and letting out belches of fire and smoke. The Slava-class cruiser Vokremny started to lose its forward speed, its twin turbine shafts bent and misaligned. Ben kept as low as possible at max speed to get out of the line of fire. It wasn't going to be easy with the destroyer blocking his way out.

'I need a distraction.' Ben requested assistance. 'Got a destroyer in my way.'

'You heard the kid. Werewolf, form up, get your missiles on Master 3.' Sebastian directed Melody, Pounder and Chimera to focus their fire on the destroyer in Ben's way. On the opposite side of the destroyer from him, the four Rafale pilots popped up from over the horizon to get the eight missiles they had between them on the guided missile destroyer. Once all of their Harpoons were deployed the squadron retreated behind the horizon again. Still pressing forward at max speed, Ben charged the destroyer. While he didn't have any dedicated anti-ship weaponry, he could strafe the ship with his 30-mil cannon. Sebastian's gambit had worked as planned, distracting the destroyer's anti-air from the Rafale about to give it an unfriendly buzz. Ben aimed at the forward 127mm cannon first, and fired a short burst. Taking a few seconds to travel, the shells tore open the protective casing of the naval gun before ripping into the mechanism of it which disabled the gun. Satisfied with a short burst there, Ben sent some shells into the bridge of the destroyer before he passed over. The destroyer's forward CIWS engaged him as he flew by but some simple side to side maneuvering ensured that Ben didn't take a hit while he was in engagement range. In the meantime the destroyer engaged the approaching anti-ship missiles with its CIWS and close-in SAMs. It succeeded in intercepting most of the missiles, all except for one. The destroyer caught a Harpoon to the midsection, rocking the ship and starting a fire. Ben was out of the cordon but continued to stay low until he was beyond the horizon, where he could gain some altitude and rejoin with his squadron.

'Holy shit.' Ben exhaled once he was free. 'We're at war now.'

'Deal with that later.' Sebastian reassured the young lieutenant. 'Lightning Keep, got a situation report for you.'

'Send it, Werewolf.' Lightning Keep was listening.

'Shots have been exchanged with the Yuktobanian strike force. We've landed hits on three vessels, including their aircraft carrier and air defense command ship. They haven't been able to get any aircraft up. Werewolf Squadron is Winchester for air-to-ship weaponry.' Sebastian summarised everything that had happened thus far and included the fact that the squadron had collectively used up all of their anti-ship missiles.

'Werewolf, understood. Two squadrons from King's Point are coming to replace you in the air. Once they're on station, RTB to refit for an anti-ship mission. Further tasking is to follow.' Lightning Keep relayed orders, Ben assumed they were from Pacific Fleet Command. The admirals up high were always attentive to situations like this.

'Understood, Werewolf is out to you. Squadron, let's get back and rearm. It's gonna be a long day.' Sebastian ordered.

'Roger, wilco.' Melody acknowledged.

'Ack.' Pounder acknowledged.

'Wilco.' Chimera acknowledged.

'Following.' Ben acknowledged. The squadron turned back for King's Point Naval Air Station, keeping low for a while until they were outside of the maximum distance of the Yuktobanian fleet's air defense zone. At some point in the trip, Ben raised his hand to see if he could hold it steady. Surprisingly, he could hold it rock solid. Hmph.

The Red Hall

Mikhal groaned as he quickly got dressed into something vaguely formal looking. His personal assistant had woken him up because "something had developed". That could have meant damn near anything, but Mikhal had a gut feeling that it wasn't something good. Once he was ready, Mikhal and his assistant entered the bunker where he and his cabinet had met earlier that morning to discuss their plan of action with Verusa. The people he wanted to talk to were already there.

'Talk to me, Orbol. What happened?' Mikhal asked, internally bracing himself for whatever the admiral was going to say.

Orbol looked to an officer, a navy Captain, who was sitting at their table. 'Tell him what you told me, captain.'

The captain, a short man, nodded. 'Sir, half an hour ago, a fighter squadron of the Verusan Armed Forces approached and attacked Task Force Erikson.'

Mikhal froze. He leant on the table and pressed the palms of his hands against his forehead.

'Fuuuuck.' Mikhal slowly swore. There wasn't any coming back from the implications of that. The Verusans had fired at Yuktobanian military assets in anger. The two countries were at war. 'What's the damage report looking like?'

'The Erikson took a couple of bombs. The Verusans got a mission kill, both of her catapults have been rendered inoperable.' Orbol delivered the specific situation prognosis. 'A cruiser and a destroyer were also hit, the cruiser's propulsion was knocked out and the destroyer took a critical hit, burnt up, she's at risk of sinking.'

'Have the Verusans lined up anything else for that task force?' Mikhal wanted to know if they were looking at a massive strikeout.

'All available sensor information we have indicates they've woken up their alert squadrons all across the country. I'd expect a harder attack at some point in the next hour.' Orbol reported on this matter.

'And have there been any attacks on the other task forces?' Now Mikhal was curious about the other elements needed for Operation Soothsayer.

Orbol shook his head. 'Nothing so far.'

'Alright.' Mikhal had all the relevant information. Now he needed to make out some kind of plan to respond to this attack. 'Pull back the strike forces, if the Verusans want to take a swing at us again I want to see it coming. Get me a group of analysts, see if we can proceed with Soothsayer without Erikson or Richmann.'

'Roger that.' Orbol seemed happy enough with these orders. 'I'd recommend mobilising the border troop battalions along the Romny and Suffrenese borders and redeploying them to the Verusan border.'

'Do it.' Mikhal approved the order. He looked to his assistant. 'Can you get me a coffee, please? I need to think.'

'Yes, sir.' The assistant replied, leaving the room to go find the nearest coffee machine. Once he was gone, Mikhal looked to Orbol. The latter noticed, looked back and shrugged.

'Bite the bear, he'll bite back.' Orbol said. Mikhal scoffed. Isn't that the damn truth.