Prologue
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Sand Island Air Force Base, Ceres Ocean.
September 22nd, 2010.
0800hrs.
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The tropical environment of the Sand Island Air Base proved to be a drastic but welcomed change from the autumn chill back at the mainland states. Albert Genette found himself taking a deep breath the second he stepped foot off the transport plane that had carried him to the island. Although he knew himself well enough to know the heat and humidity would become his worst enemy in just a matter of hours, for now it felt like a pleasant summer day.
Mixed in with the scent of fuel was the familiar smell of the ocean. Unlike the beaches in and around Oured, the sea smelled almost sweet. The absence of the smell of sunscreen and various other products and picnic food and barbeque probably contributed to that, though it did have the aforementioned fuel smell to contend with. Otherwise it was an almost ideal vacation spot. Keyword 'almost'.
In spite of the scenery and location, it was still a military facility. Something Genette was reminded of as soon as his eyes adjusted to the bright, early morning sunlight and he found himself greeted by an officer in an Osean Air Defense Force dress uniform. The soldier was on the taller side, with sharp features and green eyes that watched him like a hawk, dirty blond hair visible from underneath the cap he wore. As Genette approached him he offered a small smile in greeting, almost amiable if not for the cold and intimidating presence he had. The insignia on his shoulder easily identified him as a captain.
"You're the reporter, Albert Genette, I presume?" His voice was smooth, the pitch and tone remaining mostly constant but not flat. It lifted at the end, making the question seem more pleasant than official. Clearly he had experience dealing with the general public.
"Yes, sir, that's me," Genette said with a smile of his own, having learned from the years he'd been working closely with the military that being as respectful as possible was the best way to stay in their good graces. The same could easily be said about anyone regardless of profession, but in a setting where he was essentially stepping into another world it was best to play by their rules. "It's an honor to be here. I'm looking forward to working with you all."
"Well, you're certainly energetic. Passionate about your work, then, I take it?" The question was rhetorical, but Genette responded with a quick nod nevertheless. He went on to introduce himself. "I'm Captain Allen Hamilton. The adjutant base commander here and a former pilot myself. Pleasure to meet you."
Hamilton held out his hand, which Genette quickly grabbed, looking him in the eye as he gave his hand a firm shake. He couldn't help but be a little excited about the assignment, but he did his best to keep his excitement under control. "The pleasure's all mine. I have to say, when I hadn't heard anything about my request in a while I was worried the air force had rejected it."
"Ah, yes, I apologize for how last minute everything was. We've had a large group of pilots transferred here from Heierlark Air Force Base, so business around here has been more hectic than usual," Hamilton said, seeming almost a bit annoyed as he added, "In addition to that, our base commander is a…interesting individual. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea, not until I convinced him it was good publicity for the OADF."
"I suppose I owe you, then. After hearing rumors about that squadron leader of yours, I've been dying to see for myself the kind of pilots stationed here," Genette said, and he wasn't just saying that just for the sake of flattery.
Over the course of his career, albeit one that was admittedly short compared to other journalists, he'd worked closely with all branches of the military. While the OADF wasn't lacking in skilled fighter pilots, having a beyond formidable force at their disposal, Genette had been looking for a special breed of fighter pilot. The likes of which had been dying out since the Belkan War fifteen years prior. While spending time with pilots stationed at bases around the capital, he came to learn of a veteran pilot that had taken to teaching over the last few years.
A squadron leader that made a profound impact on each of his pupils, taking on the most inexperienced pilots and in no time turning them into pilots with the makings of an ace. There'd been many supposed 'miracle aces' over the decades, and he'd heard only a small portion were capable of challenging them, but the fact they had the potential to rival those aces was in itself an impressive feat.
"Well, may as well get introductions out of the way then, while our best instructors are in one place? Among them are several other 'interesting individuals', I'll say that much," Hamilton said. He started to move to turn away, perhaps to lead Genette off for those introductions he mentioned, but he paused once he looked over the bags Genette had brought along. "Or…hmm, are you comfortable leaving your luggage in the hands of our men or would you prefer being shown to your quarters first?"
"I don't really have any valuables on me, save for my equipment and my computer, but I keep my camera on me at all times," Genette said, not about to pass up a chance to meet with their pilots just to go drop off luggage and inevitably head to the base commander's office to go over a few official forms he'd no doubt need. Most everything had been completed, but there were some things that needed to be gone over in person. He slid the bag containing all of his clothes and his laptop off his shoulder, setting it off to the side near some cargo that he'd traveled with. "The decision is yours, Captain, just lead the way."
"Alright, then, we'll worry about that later when we head over to HQ. Follow me. I'll show you to the hangars," Hamilton said, nodding to some nearby soldiers that Genette hadn't noticed. They were a part of the crew that had been waiting for the transport's arrival, and apparently had heard the entire conversation. Something told him most everyone had been informed of his expected arrival ahead of time, as though they were preparing for some event. Hamilton continued, changing the subject as they began their walk. "In spite of how many pilots see their combat training completed here, the OADF usually chooses to ignore us until it suits them. What about our pilots could have possibly piqued your interest?"
"As it turns out, I've run across some pilots that used to be assigned to the squadron here," Genette said, looking all around at his surroundings to get a feel for the area. It was a perfect place for an airstrip, and the perfect setting for any photography or film. "They mentioned having learned from the best out here. Naturally with all the stories out there over the years about unique pilots, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Call it intuition, if you will."
Hamilton nodded slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on their path as he led Genette along the aircraft ramp, apparently making for one of the open hangars at the far end of the stretch of pavement. "Hopefully we won't disappoint you, then. In spite of the difficulties I had convincing the base commander to accept the request from you and the OBC, you couldn't have picked a better time."
"I haven't been disappointed so far. This place is incredible just from looks alone." As he said that, Genette looked over towards the trees around the edge of the base fence, several yards away at least. Flocks of various seabirds flew overhead, only a few willing to land on the tarmac until the sound of a fighter jet roared overhead and startled them into the air, as though they would be safer there. They'd have better luck on the beach.
"Looks can be deceiving. Life around here is often rather boring," Hamilton said, his attention naturally drawn towards the source of the sound overhead. He gave a short chuckle. "We could use a change of pace around here. But if nothing else, our private airshows are always a sight to behold."
Genette could imagine so. His family, mainly his father, had always dragged him off to the nearest airshows. The OADF had a wide variety of aircraft and plenty of demo teams to show for it, so there were several over the course of a few months. When he was much younger the trips exhausted him, but with age he'd come to love it. There really wasn't anything like watching aerial stunts and being able to feel the power of the aircraft down to your bones. It was exhilarating.
The two of them fell into silence after that for a few moments, neither having anything to say on the rest of their walk. Genette had half a mind to fish as much information out of Captain Hamilton as he could, but he held back. Hamilton wasn't the reason he'd come to this island, and seeing as he wasn't a pilot he probably wasn't expecting to be bombarded. He seemed more interested in keeping a low profile, jumping straight into business and not dwelling on any of his remarks about the base commander or the instructors. If there was any sort of story to be had there, it wasn't one Genette was interested in at the moment, though he did think to keep an eye on him during the stay.
Who knew? Maybe this place had some surprises in store for him after all.
They arrived at an open hangar further down from where the transport aircraft had parked, though not the farthest one down it was still a good ways away. Inside was a row of F-4Gs, if his memory served him correctly, both from seeing the aircraft up close as well as what he'd gone over to familiarize himself with the aircraft used here on Sand Island. All around were several men and women in standard flight suits, but he knew not all of them were pilots. Some of them served as Radar Intercept Officers, though it would take him some time before he worked out who was who.
Three men stood in front of the crowd of rookies, and off to the side were three other apparently senior officers. Two more men and a woman of roughly the same age all surveyed the crowd, looking between the instructors and the crowd, seemingly monitoring the lesson at first though occasionally they had their own input. Off to the side of the hangar was another older gentleman, his hair balding rather than graying, and while he apparently was listening to and occasionally observing them all, he looked to be a part of the maintenance crew rather than a pilot. The jumpsuit he wore was dark blue rather than the dull, dusty green the aircraft crew wore.
As they stepped inside, a few of the rookies noticed their arrival and gave them curious looks. One in particular caught Hamilton's eye, a young woman with dark hair and the same green eyes that he had standing in the front row of soldiers. They seemed familiar with each other, as Hamilton gave her an almost stern glare that she didn't shrink away from, until the scrawny young man next to her leaned over and said something to her. The two broke their eye contact, and Genette was left wondering just how well they knew each other. Aside from the dark brown hair the woman had as opposed to Hamilton, they almost looked like they could have been siblings. It was the eyes, he figured. Sharp like a hawk or an eagle or some other bird of prey.
The instructors finally took notice of Hamilton, the one that had been speaking trailing off. He was tall, with graying black hair and brown eyes, a five o'clock shadow giving him a rough looking appearance. One look at Genette and he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Captain Hamilton…how goes your new career as a tour guide?"
A few scattered chuckles sounded throughout the crowd, mostly from the older members of the crowd, and the mildly irritated look that Hamilton was quick to cover up told Genette this wasn't the first time he was the victim of their teasing. He cleared his throat. "Captain Bartlett. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. This is the reporter you were all told about, Mr. Albert Genette."
"You can just call me Genette," Genette said quickly, taking a few steps forward. He'd never really liked his first name all that much, keeping it reserved for family and close friends. In a professional setting his surname sounded better and in his experience most in the military would call him by it anyways. But with the way Hamilton had introduced him he wanted to be sure. "It's an honor to be working with you."
"Can't imagine why," Bartlett said with a chuckle, glancing at the other instructors. He stepped forward, holding out his hand to Genette. Just as he'd done with Hamilton, he gave him a quick but firm handshake as Bartlett added, "But anyways, good to meet you."
"If you're gonna be tagging along with us I trust you've been through high-g training ahead of time, correct?" one of the other instructors asked him in a gravelly voice, narrowing his eyes. He was shorter than Bartlett, with light hair and dull, sunken eyes. Older, probably more experienced, but less welcoming. "The last thing we need is to throw you up in a jet with little to no experience. Anything happens to you and it's our asses that end up on the line."
Genette was aware everyone was staring at them, listening in on their conversation. He'd gone through the necessary training, having been eased into it, but that didn't mean he handled it as well as a fighter pilot might. However, he could keep up with most basic maneuvers. Provided they gave him fair warning before doing anything too wild he was sure he'd be fine. "Yes, sir, I've gone through all of the necessary courses. It's not my first time doing something like this, but I'll do my best not to become a liability."
"Didn't do your homework did you, Svenson?" The third instructor, not as young as Bartlett but not as old as Svenson, scoffed, shaking his head. Svenson's response was to give him a warning glare. "This guy's pretty hardcore. He's jumped out of helicopters with special forces teams during their training exercises before, and that's not even the most spectacular thing he's done."
"Bad enough we've got these kids to babysit…" Svenson grumbled under his breath.
"Alright, Baker, lay off him. I'd like him not to be in a bad mood when we're stuck in the air with him," the woman standing off to the side called out, the two men she was beside both chuckling. They didn't bother stifling their laughter. "Then again, guess it'd only be Roberts' problem, not ours."
"Alright, alright. Why don't both you assholes lay off him? Not his fault he doesn't know how to work a computer," Bartlett said.
A voice from the crowd, belonging to easily the tallest man there, practically chirped out, "Neither do you, sir!"
"Hey, zip it, Davenport!" Bartlett practically barked as more scattered laughter spread through the crowd, their comrade being scolded only making the laughter worse. The Davenport guy took it in stride, still smiling but not disobeying the order. Hamilton looked annoyed, but Genette took cues from Bartlett and the other officers and couldn't help but smile at the exchange. Bartlett went on with an almost exasperated look on his face. "Anyways…guess most introductions are out of the way, then. You'll learn to tell everyone apart before long either way, at least as far as all of our nuggets are concerned."
"'Nuggets', sir?" Genette couldn't help but ask. It was a pretty odd name, and not one he'd ever heard before.
"They're the 'kids' Svenson was referring to," Bartlett said, gesturing out to the pilots and RIOs gathered around.
Not for the first time Genette was made aware of them, taking a closer look now and picking out those that stood out the most to him. A pretty woman of average height with short dark hair and eyes, looking almost delicate in appearance and build, hardly looking like a soldier. Davenport, the man that had spoken up before, with black hair styled in a particular way with bright, blue eyes. A short young woman with a dark complexion and wide brown eyes. The scrawny young man and the woman Hamilton had looked at before. A man with a blank expression and harsh looking eyes standing beside a shorter, older looking man with a soft smile on his face.
All of them seemed more interested in conversations between themselves than their instructors and the newcomers. Most of them were in their earlier or mid-twenties, though, the same age as Genette. So, these were the 'nuggets', then. If everything he'd heard was true, they would all be well on their way to great heights as far as their careers were concerned. Quite literally, in fact.
"I see. Well, I'm looking forward to seeing what you all have in store," Genette said, taking a deep breath. He was mainly talking to Bartlett, but he was sure he spoke loudly enough they could all hear him. "I suppose I should let you all get back to work, now. Apologies for disturbing your lesson."
"Nah, don't apologize. They'd have found some way to slack off anyways," Bartlett said, already stepping away. He glanced at Hamilton, then back to Genette. "But you're welcome to hang out if you really want. I promise you aren't gonna miss anything, though. The real fun doesn't start until we get up in the air."
"Yes, as much fun as that sounds, there's still some things we need to take care of. So I'm afraid I'll have to cut this conversation short," Hamilton answered for him, and while Genette admittedly would have liked to sit in on whatever was being taught to get the full experience of what work was done here, Hamilton was unfortunately right. He looked at the 'nuggets' before he spoke again. "Which reminds me…Second Lieutenant Davenport! A word, please."
Davenport glanced at Bartlett and the other instructors before he reacted, almost with a look that was a mix of worry and confusion. Likely afraid his joke earlier had landed him in trouble or something like that, but Bartlett reluctantly nodded with an annoyed look replacing the one he'd been wearing beforehand. Hamilton waited for Davenport to start to make his way between all of his companions before he started back towards the hangar doors, Genette following close behind as Bartlett began to speak once more as though the entire conversation hadn't happened.
Once they were out of earshot of the others so as not to disturb them, Hamilton stopped and turned around, waiting for Davenport to catch up. In just a few strides at a light jog, Davenport caught up to them both and came to a halt. He straightened up, taking a deep breath as he stood at attention. In a forced, overly formal manner of speaking he said, "Captain Hamilton, sir. May I ask what the problem is?"
"At ease. Unless there's anything I don't know about, you aren't in trouble, Lieutenant," Hamilton said, straight to the point. Davenport relaxed almost immediately. "I have other matters to attend to, and seeing as we've assigned Genette here to your quarters I was hoping I could ask you to familiarize him with the base and the barracks?"
"Ah. Right, I remember you mentioned somethin' like that the other day…" Davenport said under his breath, though judging from the way he looked almost embarrassed it was more or less clear that he had forgotten until his memory was jogged. He recovered quickly, putting on a cheerful smile as he looked to Genette. "Guess we're roommates now, huh? I'll be happy to show you around. Not that there's much to see, really, but y'know how it is."
Genette smiled, reaching out to offer what would be his third handshake that day. Davenport accepted it, though he did seem a bit put off by it. "Thank you, Lieutenant, I'll do my best not to disturb your routine."
"Forget that 'Lieutenant' crap, man, you can just call me Chopper. Everyone around here does," Davenport – or Chopper, rather – said, waving the title off.
Hamilton kept his composure, ignoring Chopper and giving another smile to Genette as he gave a quick nod. "Since that's settled, I'll be on my way. Pleasure to meet you, Genette, feel free to come speak to me if you run into any trouble."
And with another nod and a quick 'Lieutenant' in acknowledgement towards Chopper, he quickly set off on his way at a brisk pace, disappearing from view as he exited the hangar and rounded the corner of the door, leaving the two of them to finish what he started. Admittedly, after having an early start to the day, a lengthy flight out here, and all of the introductions he'd just been ran through at a rapid fire pace, Genette found himself in need of a good rest and some time to get himself settled in.
Right away the impression Chopper gave off was that of an outspoken, extroverted individual, just judging from the first few interactions. Genette was good at getting along with all types of people, so he was sure that he'd have no trouble with Chopper. At the very least, everyone he'd met so far had certainly made an impression, and Chopper was no exception. His haircut reminded him of a rock 'n roll musician, almost, and was probably just barely in regs, and he seemed the type to test his limits with his superiors. He wasn't an instructor, but he definitely came off as one of the 'interesting individuals' Hamilton had mentioned.
"If you want, we can swing by the barracks first, get you acquainted with crew quarters," Chopper said as soon as Hamilton was gone, gesturing over his shoulder in some vague direction with his thumb. "It's not too hard to find your way around, I promise. I only got lost a couple of times my first week."
Genette couldn't really tell if he was joking or not, though judging from his awkward chuckle it was at least an attempt at one. "Lead the way. I don't think it would look good if I started wandering around unsupervised, would it?"
"Eh, there aren't any secrets out here worth protecting. C'mon, let's get this tour over and done with," Chopper said with a dry laugh, heading outside. Genette was quick to follow, having to squint as his eyes once again adjusted to the change in lighting. They only made it a few steps before Chopper suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh, yeah, I'll bet Hamilton didn't bother checking with you, so I probably should give you a heads up. Er…do you have a problem with dogs or an allergy or anything like that?"
"No, not at all," Genette said. He'd been right, Hamilton hadn't asked him anything like that. Curious, he asked, "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, well, it's kind of a long story, but years ago some pilot took in this stray puppy and somehow talked his superiors into keeping him around. Then they thought it was a great idea to turn him into the squadron mascot I think?" Chopper said, recounting the story to him at rapid fire pace as they walked. "Anyways, I'm kinda fuzzy on the details, but when I first got here was right when that guy was planning to retire and he didn't want the dog anymore or…something like that, I dunno. But at that point I was pretty familiar with the dog and I love 'em to death, so I volunteered to take him in."
At that point Chopper found another story to tell along the way, which turned into another as he jumped from topic to topic. It was better than an awkward silence, so Genette had no issue keeping the conversation going even though he was hardly contributing to it. He may as well get acquainted with the people he was going to be working around for however long this assignment may have lasted.
And so, his first day at Sand Island got off to a proper start.
Cape Landers, Osea.
September 23rd, 2010.
1109hrs.
An alarm blared through the cockpit as Bartlett made an abrupt turn and leveled out, catching Genette off guard. The sound set him on edge, as what was supposed to be a standard training exercise seemed to be taking an unexpected turn of events as it started to draw to a close. As Genette looked over the various instruments before him trying to pinpoint the position of the rest of Wardog Squadron with only a baseline knowledge of how everything functioned, Bartlett began to curse at the interruption.
"Dammit! Gimme a break, would ya? I'm babysittin' nuggets up here!" Bartlett snapped over the radio as Genette kept the camera fixed on the back of his seat, not having stopped his recording in spite of the new development and his rise in anxiety. He wished he could gauge Bartlett's reaction, to tell whether he was feeling the same dread that Genette was or not, but something told him knowing their leader was rattled would only make matters worse for the squadron.
"Command Room to Wardog Squadron, we have leakers, aircraft type currently unknown. Crossing the border at Cape Landers, bearing 278 to 302," the voice of some top brass on the ground sounded in response, almost sounding apologetic. "Captain Bartlett, your flight is the only group close enough to make the intercept. I'm afraid there isn't anyone we can call back to provide additional support."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…I get it," Bartlett grumbled, and over the various screens and radar Genette was able to get a look at the aircraft ahead of them. Several blips appeared on radar, the designation of each of the pilots and their backseaters appearing where the squadron was positioned, the unknowns marked down as such. Bartlett was quick to take control of the situation. "Baker, Svenson, go trail and stay close! The three of us'll go high and make the intercept. Engage only if necessary. All other aircraft, stay low and out of the fight! Got it?"
Everyone sounded off one by one as the other two instructors pulled their aircraft into a tighter formation around Bartlett's aircraft, one of them making a pass over the cockpit that Genette made sure to catch on camera. Although his nerves were already shocked, this was his job. He'd keep recording however long he could last, already feeling himself growing nauseous at the unexpected maneuvers.
Bartlett tracked the movement of his allies in his eyes, leaning over and craning his neck as a small group of the trainees began to form up and follow the order he'd given to lower their altitude. He made sure they were clear before he increased his speed and brought the aircraft into a roll, the movement enough to make Genette throw up though he managed to keep himself together. Bartlett called to him, "Hang on back there, Genette, there's a chance this could get bumpy!"
Genette couldn't bring himself to speak, afraid if he opened his mouth he was going to lose his breakfast. Which was the last thing he wanted to do, knowing full well someone was going to have to clean it up when all was said and done and he'd be too embarrassed if anyone but him was saddled with that task. He braced himself, trying to remember everything he'd been taught during the high-g training he'd undergone, between his breathing and the straining maneuver he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to last.
The first three aircraft, led by Bartlett, all began to close in on the position, but above the clouds there wasn't anything. All of the instruments showed they were closing in on the unidentified aircraft and their positions, but Genette couldn't see anything from where he sat no matter how much he tried to get a better view. In the front seat he heard Bartlett mutter something under his breath to express his own confusion and concerns.
Something felt off, but Genette wasn't quite sure what until the voice of one of the trainee's RIOs sounded over the radio. It was the number seven aircraft, the one being piloted by the delicate young woman he'd seen the day of first, though her name as well as that of her backseater wasn't coming to mind to him. The round of introductions that morning had been mostly forgotten after the thrill of the training exercises and now this.
"Hey, tell me I'm not going crazy over here, but the coordinates they gave look off to me," the man said, having a slight, barely discernible accent on a few of the vowel sounds. He didn't sound fully Osean, that was for sure. "Edge, do you have a visual on them?"
"Hard to tell with the sun in my eyes, but…wait, what the–" the voice of the woman replied softly, then suddenly she raised her voice to an urgent cry. "This is Wardog 7, we've got the enemy aircraft right in front of us!"
"The hell?!" Another one of the trainees responded. "Shit, they're opening fire –!"
The transmission suddenly cut to static and then silence, and more confused and frightened cries sounded out from the trainees as a handful of others were cut off in the same manner. Genette didn't have to be a genius to figure out what was happening, and neither did Bartlett as he suddenly veered off from the formation and into a dive to the clouds below them towards the trainees.
"Shit! What the hell is going on!" Bartlett shouted, not waiting for the other instructors to follow. Genette couldn't be sure, paying more attention to the fact he could feel his stomach in his throat, but he had a feeling they were right behind them. "Someone better talk to me!"
"Captain, they're picking us off!" came the response of one of the pilots before he let out a startled cry along with his RIO. Bartlett's aircraft broke through the clouds just in time to see the unidentified aircraft shoot down the trainee's F-4, a missile connecting with the engine and setting the entire thing on fire. They never had a chance to bail out.
Everything happened so fast, Genette wasn't sure how he was still hanging on as Bartlett jumped on the tail of one of the bandits and lined up a shot with the machine gun. A spray of bullets on the wing of the enemy was enough to disable it, the pilot apparently choosing to try their luck saving the aircraft instead of punching out. The aircraft turned, ready to keep fighting, and at that point Bartlett was already going after another target glued to the tail of one of his men. An explosion directly behind them told Genette that either Baker or Svenson had finished the job, the two of them splitting off after.
Genette caught sight of them tangling with the enemy aircraft, trying to draw their fire away from the trainees, but they'd all been taken by surprise. The blips on radar were slowly disappearing, and Genette was able to make out fewer and fewer Osean F-4s, met instead by the sight of the unknown fighters going up against them. Only one of the trainees had gotten their act together and was able to retaliate, holding their own alongside their teacher. He figured out quickly the only one keeping up with them was Wardog 7.
"Edge, Dogma, get your asses outta here! Retreat with the others!" Bartlett yelled out to her as Baker ordered the trainees to withdraw, vowing to keep the enemy focused on them so they could make their escape. But with so few of them left it was suicide to turn their back to the enemy. "Dammit, do you hear me Nagase?!"
It seemed her RIO, Dogma, agreed wholeheartedly as he tried to implore Nagase to listen to him. "Shit, do you honestly think we stand a chance out here? Follow the damn orders or we're gonna end up like everyone else!"
"Negative, I'm not letting them take out anymore!" Nagase answered, though whether she was talking to her superiors that way or to Dogma that way Genette couldn't tell. Everyone cursed in reply, but no one said anything else to stop her. With the way she maneuvered, fluid and flawless movements almost like a bird, Genette was pretty sure she could hold her own. She was probably the only one that had a heads-up, courtesy of her tail position and Dogma's observation that something had been off.
Genette heard Roberts – Svenson's RIO, he didn't know his callsign – cry out a warning to Svenson, but he couldn't see where the two of them were. Their transmission was cut off not long after. Baker took a hit immediately after that, having taken a missile for one of the trainees that was shot down a moment later. At the rate they were all dropping, Genette wondered if they even stood a chance of making it out alive, and at the age of twenty-five he was certain his life started to flash before his eyes.
As Bartlett accelerated and pulled his aircraft's nose straight up, Genette felt his head start to spin as though he had a head rush. His stomach twisted and all of his muscles ached in protest to the prolonged maneuvers, and as the tunnel vision began to set in he could feel himself fading fast as Bartlett remained glued to the enemy's tail. All Genette saw before his vision went completely black was a burst of flame and debris flying at the aircraft as Bartlett moved to level out.
In his ears he could faintly hear the voices of the pilots calling out orders and the two RIOs calling out warnings, Nagase the only remaining trainee and Bartlett the only fully combat capable instructor. All conversation, warnings, and gunfire sounded almost muffled to Genette, as though he could hear them but was unable to process all of it.
Everything faded to nothingness a few moments later, as if the world around him ceased to exist.
Author's Note: Well, I honestly didn't expect to start this before Three Strikes was finished, but here we are.
I had the inspiration so I ran with it, and this was the result. The first mission shouldn't be too far behind, and of course I'm still working on the next chapter of Three Strikes. With my track record balancing two different projects, I have no idea how often updates for this are going to be, but I have everything together for this one more than I did for my previous attempts at secondary projects so I don't plan to abandon it. I don't plan to abandon Three Strikes, either, and I'm mainly focusing on that one with this on the side for when I've hit a rut but still want my fix of Ace Combat writing.
Anyways, right out of the gate you should notice a few changes. One, everyone's starting out in the F-4 before we go to the F-14 because I wanted the RIOs in the story from the beginning. Second of all, the RIOs themselves! They exist and I'm so excited to be able to work with them! We'll be meeting the rest next chapter as well as giving Nagase and Dogma proper introductions, but a few of them were described already. And also character ages. Most of them are the same, but I've made Genette younger and it hasn't been brought up but Chopper is 24 instead of 28. Snow is 29 instead of 34...etc. There aren't many others I've changed, but those are the most drastic ones.
There's a lot more I want to change and expand on and anyone that's read Three Strikes should be seeing some familiar faces/names along the way. And everyone should be aware Blaze is a girl in my setting as well.
Quick disclaimer, as always rigid realism is not my goal nor is religiously sticking to canon. My goal is to expand on the characters, their relationships, the world around them, and the lore within it. The characters and the stories are the sole reason I play these games and what inspired me to write for them. Fanfic is for fun, which is why I wrote this.
So, that being said...thank you for reading!
I hope y'all enjoyed the start and stick around for another crazy ride!