Chapter 2

Great Migration

Low Earth Orbit, Wernher and Noah Enterprises satellite

Camila floated out of the control pod and down towards the observation room. It always felt nice to fly the QFA-44, even if it was just a small recon flight. For now, she felt satisfied with her sortie and floated down to Kvasir to continue the history video. She pushed off the walls with her feet and came to a stop right where the computer terminal was. She powered it on again, and Kvasir seemed to get the message.

"Welcome back," he said in his chipper voice. "Let's continue where we left off." The screen was replaced by the globe, devoid of all Ulyssess impact craters.

"Now, where was I…? Oh right," Kvasir said, getting his bearings. "So tensions were escalating worldwide. The wars that resulted led to an increasing number of refugees." Red and blue pockmarks began to dot the surface of the Earth, representing the number of refugees per nation that had been affected by these wars. Circles appeared on these pockmarks, and the estimated number of refugees was shown.

"To handle these refugees, special semi-autonomous zones were established in the EU, the Asian Nations, and part of Russia." The map zoomed in on a small corner in southern Russia. "Iyuli, the zone founded in southern Russia, was the largest of them land-wise, which allowed them to take in vast numbers of migrants. But these refugees were treated like cheap labor. Living conditions grew worse, and the region was soon home to gigantic slum areas." Colored areas appeared on the map, showing the rough displacement of the slums. Camila winced. She had always heard horror stories that leaked out of Ilyuli by those refugees that had managed to find sanctuary somewhere safer.

"Anti-foreign worker demonstrations were rife across the entire zone, threatening peace and welfare in the surrounding regions." Images of the protests and riots were shown. "As a result, a certain company stepped in to help support the job market in the refugee zone." Camila smiled. She knew what was coming, but it still made her smile every time she watched it.

"That company was Wernher Noah Enterprises, the defense contractor giant." A website appeared, showing the Wernher Noah homepage. "Once nations had to slash their military budgets after the Ulysses disaster, the private military service industry, with its mercenary forces, experienced a major boom. Also, thanks to the Advanced Automated Aviation Plant introducing enhanced computer numerical control to aircraft manufacture, it became a simple matter to rebuild previously existing aircraft designs. The resulting glut in available aircraft led to a new issue: A lack of pilots to control them. Hence why you see mercenary groups cobbled together from dropout pilots. But I digress." A 3D simulation was shown, showing an Su-27 Flanker being manufactured, and then sliding over to many other airframes with mercenary logos beneath them. Camila recognized such names like Martinez Security, Axe and Hammer, Sicario, and even ones like Galm, Crow, Varcolac, Scarface, Mimic, and others.

"The nations and federations overseeing the special zones welcomed Wernher's support. In turn, Wernher received huge parcels of land and a massive workforce to do its bidding. Soon, the company expanded from its core military business and into energy and space development. Their business had an enormous impact on recovery efforts around the world, and the localized conflicts began to simmer down." The screen faded back to the image of Earth, and the pockmarks faded away. The date of 2019 was now superimposed on the center of the screen, and the Earth shrank into a globe.

"Now we come to today, 20 years later," Kvasir said. "The special zones have shown major economic growth under Wernher's wing, but the huge weapon stockpiles stored in these zones have made them a breeding ground for armed extremist groups. These groups have formed a multinational network spread across the special zones, and more and more, we're seeing them carry out 'anti-imperialist' attacks in the nations surrounding Iyuli." The map zoomed in on the far side of China and Russia, showing the various spy networks crisscrossing each other, and more images of the violence were shown. "This has led the UN and the world's superpowers to label them terrorists. Which brings us to…" A UN page appeared, showing the logo of the terrorist group with the caption "The Sons of Troia." Camila nodded, but she was getting sleepy. Sooner or later she was going to drift off. Kvasir seemed to notice.

"Hmm? Are you awake? Sorry; you must be tired. We can pick this up another time."

X

Air Base "Latino," Havana, Cuba

May 15, 2019

"Everyone here?" Goodfellow said, powering on the briefing software. "Good. Let's get started." The screen blossomed into the familiar map of the world.

"Following the Tokyo terror attack, the UN staged emergency inspections on facilities in Iyuli," he began, as the map zoomed in on the special zone. "They didn't obtain any evidence on the new UAVs we saw, but they did discover plans for an orbital weapon." A schematic of the weapon appeared on the screen. It looked like a rocket, with 4 solid rocket boosters flanking a central core. A small circle was in the center, but I couldn't tell what it was or what purpose it served. "Multiple nations are apparently involved in its development. The UN calls it "a violation of space treaties and a new threat to replace nuclear proliferation." They're demanding the project be halted immediately," Goodfellow continued, as a copy of the statement was shown. I shuddered, imagining the horrors of space-based weaponry. It sounded more terrifying than nuclear warheads.

"As a result, the chief military official at Wernher's been forced out of the company." A portrait of the man appeared on the screen. The small caption beneath it identified him as Kacper Cohen. "But this thing isn't over yet. In fact, it's just beginning." The items were wiped from the screen and the map zoomed in on South America, near the Caribbean. "We've spotted a large squadron of unidentified transport aircraft heading for Area B9K, an aerospace center in the West Indies, accompanied by escort craft." Images of the aerospace center appeared on screen, and I recognized it as the Comona Islands Spaceport. "The center was involved with the development of the space weapon I discussed. The nature of the cargo is unknown, but once we identify the craft as hostile, you have permission to shoot them down," Goodfellow said, as the map shifted. "Normally this would be a UNF or USAF job, but given how tense things have been with Latin America, the US doesn't want to pour any more oil on the fire. All in all, they'd prefer it if the media kept their focus on the Tokyo attacks instead of this." He grinned. "That's why they enlisted us "privateers" for their dirty work. It oughta be a pretty good payday for us. We'll be having our best pilot on this op." A portrait of a man appeared on the screen. A stoic man filled the frame scowling at the camera. His TAC name and emblem appeared below: The name "Viper" with his emblem being a snake with its tail coiled in an infinity symbol. "In Arrows, if you're a top earner, you get first priority over everyone else," Goodfellow said. "You want money? You want fame? Then you're gonna have to outdo our ace here. Dismissed."

"Viper," Omega said, as we made our way to the hangars. "No wonder the boss is pulling out all of the top guns for this op."

"Who is he?" I asked as we made our way out onto the tarmac, the balmy Cuban air hitting us the instant we stepped out of the cool confines of the building. I started sweating almost immediately.

"Top ace from around here," Omega said, heading over to his Typhoon. "And the leader of Bone Arrow, so expect some competition." He nudged me and smiled. He then groaned. "I was gonna hit an internet cafe as soon as the previous sortie was over, but it looks like the contract didn't include free manga in the fine print." I chuckled. Omega had a distinct taste for anything Japanese. He had a poster of one of his favorite idols, Hatsune Miku, in the cockpit of his Typhoon. He said it brought him luck whenever they were on a contract or a sortie.

I finally reached my F-16C and saw that it had already been loaded with the usual loadout. I climbed in and started the preflight checks, closing the canopy to get out of the blinding sun. Once my HUD was online, it was only starting the engine and getting the old bird to move to the runway. I was feeling a little tired after our cross-country flight out of Japan and into Cuba, requiring a stop in San Fransisco (Very close to where I once lived) to refuel (Although Goodfellow pointed out the former Olivieri Life Insurance building along the way), but I was ready to rock and roll, just like good old Fox McCloud.

A while into our flight, I was already scanning the radar for the mysterious convoy, when suddenly, an elderly MiG-21bis slid into place beside us.

"Hey, Bone Arrows," a voice joined us on the comm. "You forget about your flight lead?"

"Ah, Viper," Bronco said. "How can we forget about you?"

"You could never forget about me," Viper said, flying over me. I got a good look at his plane. The MiG-21bis was already pushing its fifth decade of service, and it was armed with two gunpods, two K-13 missiles mounted on the outer pylons, and two R-60s right next to them. "Not when your flight lead is ready to kick some ass."

"Ah, nothing like a trip to the Caribbean," Omega said, sarcastically, as we approached the Comona Islands Aerospace Center. I caught a glimpse of the massive mass driver that was used to launch SSTO shipments to the International Space Station and beyond, but also some traditional rocket launch sites. Most likely preserved monuments.

"Goodfellow to all units," Goodfellow said, interrupting my train of thought. "The unidentified transports and escorts are approaching the aerospace center. Once we identify them as hostile, you have permission to shoot them down. Don't let them damage the aerospace center."

"Bone Arrow 1, this is Viper," Viper said calmly. "I'm getting a radar blip on my twelve." I glanced down at my screen and saw several blips there as well.

"Bone Arrow 4, I'm getting positive contact as well," I said.

"Goodfellow to Viper," Goodfellow said. "Switch to an open channel and send out a notice."

"Yeah, yeah. Copy that," Viper said, annoyed. Clearly, this wasn't the first time he had done this.

"Like that's going to work," I heard Jay mutter. "They don't care about a few vigilantes intercepting their cargo. They'd only care if it was an official military, not a PMC."

"Well, I'd like to keep it that way," Viper said. He then addressed the group in a bored voice. "Attention unidentified aircraft. This is the Arrows Squadron operation under independent United Nations command. Follow out guidance and change your-" He didn't finish, as my radar had suddenly locked onto one of the bandits, an Il-76 Candid. Viper seemed to notice that too.

"FC radar targeting from the craft. They're bandits," he said, confirming my suspicions.

"I knew it!" Omega cried. Apparently, he had the same hunch that I did.

"All units, permission to engage!" Goodfellow called.

"Alright, let's get this party started," Viper said, jettisoning the centerline fuel tank.

"Finally," I muttered, arming my missiles and gun. "Time to shake off the fatigue."

"Hey, you. Bone Arrow 4, the rookie with the stupid emblem." Now he was addressing me.

"Yeah? What about it?" I asked.

"You're with me," Viper said. "I wanna see what you got."

"Righto," I said. I moved to within weapons range of the Il-76 and fired my guns at it, shredding the transport.

"The transport is down," Viper said, swerving around a hostile MiG-21 that had tried to lock up him. "Time to mop up the rest."

I briefly evaded a missile warning as a MiG I hadn't seen launched a missile at me. I swerved around to finish it off with a Sidewinder. Viper, on the other hand, took care of another MiG trying to sneak up on me with his guns.

"Not too bad, rookie," Omega said.

"Thanks, Omega," I said.

"More of 'em on our twelve," Viper said, as my HUD filled with new contacts, one of them being another Il-76. "Think you can keep up with me, kid?"

"Sure can," I said, switching to my AMRAAMs and launching one at a Mirage 2000C. It impacted the delta-winged fighter and blew it apart.

"You, know that Reaper emblem you got freaks me out," Omega said, taking on and destroying another Mirage. "Feels like I'm gonna get haunted. How 'bout I paint a nicer one on there for you, huh?"

"No thanks," I said, gunning for the Il-76. An AMRAAM and a gun burst finished it off. "I like it the way it is. Can someone take of that Mirage for me?"

"I'm on it," Bronco said, maneuvering behind it and firing his guns. The Mirage was shredded in an instant. "You are clear, rook."

"Thanks for the boost," I said, swerving around another Mirage and put that poor bastard out of misery. I had learned earlier if I was at a certain distance from my wingmen, my targeting computers could be improved via a special datalink, and it made shooting down these flies a lot easier.

Another popup group appeared on my radar: Another Il-76 with escorts. Geez, how many of these guys are there? I thought.

"Bronco, Omega, give me a hand here," I said. "I'm almost out of AMRAAMs."

"Copy all," Bronco said. "Jay, give me the targets."

"Targets are all lined up," Jay said. "Let 'er rip, Bronco!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Omega cried, firing two Meteors from his Typhoon. At the same time, Bronco unleashed two of his AMRAAMs. All three of the Mirages vanished from my radar, and the stray Meteor detonated harmlessly in the distance.

"Thanks for the cleanup," I said. I barreled down on the Il-76 with my last Sidewinder and a gun burst, shredding the aircraft to pieces.

"Enemy transport squadron destroyed," Goodfellow said.

"Hey, rookie!" Omega called. "Take a look at Viper's craft." I fell into position with the rest of my squadron and saw the snake with the infinity symbol on it much closer. "That thing's old enough to be in a museum, but he threw a boatload of cash into customizing it." I could now see the aftermarket customizations on the old MiG: I noticed an extra flare dispenser, a communications dome installed on the vertical stabilizer, and finally, the wings were slightly enlarged to make way for an extra hardpoint where he mounted his gunpods.

"And see that infinity mark on the side?" Omega said.

"Yeah," I said, glancing at it.

"That means he shot down so many bandits, he can't even keep count anymore."

"Huh," I said. Maybe, I'll be a worldwide famous ace, just like him! I snapped out of my nugget persona and focused on the battle at hand.

"Viper here. King Bailout, do you copy?" Viper snapped. Apparently, he had noticed. "Seems like you got a lot of free time over there. You just got back in the air; don't get yourself shot up again." So Omega had a habit of bailing out whenever he got lightly grazed. Kinda fitting since he was flying a Typhoon, and this certainly wasn't his first plane, judging by its pristine condition.

"Roger that, Viper," Omega said. "Man, you can always know when he's nearby too, 'cause you can smell his breath," he muttered, hoping that Viper wasn't listening.

I chuckled.

"All bandits confirmed down-" Goodfellow began, but then he stopped.

"Not yer the aren't," Viper said, as I picked up some new contacts in the area. "We got a couple stragglers." I quickly cycled through all of the contacts: 6 Mirage 2000Cs and 2 Il-76s. Not too bad.

"Third enemy flight incoming. Take them on," Goodfellow ordered.

"Right," Viper said, cracking his neck. "Time to make the donuts."

"Let's rock and roll, boys," I said.

"Geez, rookie. Not the Star Fox reference," Omega groaned.

"Oh come on. You're complaining?" Bronco jumped in. "I grew up playing that shit! You're one to make fun of that phrase!"

"Can it!" I said, suddenly mustering some energy from out of nowhere. "Let's just focus on taking down the third transport group, alright?"

"Righto," Omega said. "Hey, wait a minute. Isn't Viper the one who usually bosses us around?" Viper said nothing but just chuckled.

The 6 Mirages broke away from the transport and streaked towards us, leaving the transports vulnerable. I switched to my AMRAAMs and locked the transport up, making sure my locks didn't slip and launched two.

"Bone Arrow 4, Fox 3!" I called. The two AMRAAMs found their mark and blew the 2 Il-76s out of the sky like clay pigeons. I then turned my attention to the remaining Mirages. They all seemed to get away from Viper as he attempted to dive-bomb a pair with his gunpods. It seemed like they knew what kind of mercenary he was. He managed to get behind the tail of a Mirage and gun it down before the pilot knew what was happening.

"Viper's shot down a bandit," Goodfellow said. "The rest of you better shape up before he gets all of them."

"Righto," I called out. "For pilots, these guys are sloppy, leaving their transports nice and pretty out in the open." I selected one of the Mirages and honed in on it with my guns. The delta-winged fighter attempted to juke me into a position that would allow his squadmates to fire at me, but I wasn't gonna let him take the chance. As soon as the piper was lined up with the engine, I fired, shredding the Mirage and causing it to fall into the water below. The canopy blew and the pilot ejected. I then quickly switched to another Mirage and followed it until I had a clear shot and blew it apart with a well-placed gun burst.

"Boy, Viper, you sure step up your game up once your creditors start harassing you, huh?" Omega taunted, blowing up another Mirage with a short-range IRIS-T missile, and quickly taking out another with his guns.

"Calm down, Omega," Viper said, performing a tight Kublit and blowing up another Mirage. "I'm sure you get your pants wet every time you hear a missile warning."

Bronco chose not to respond. Instead, he let out a light chuckle as he locked onto another Mirage and blew it apart with his guns. "Bone Arrow 3, Splash One," he reported. "And Omega? Save it for the enemy." He then fired his last Sidewinder at another one, reducing it to scrap metal in short order.

"One bandit left," Goodfellow said. "This is it."

"The last one's mine," Omega called, but it was already too late as Viper was already on its tail.

"I got it, I got it," Viper said, closing in on the hapless Mirage. He then bit into it with his guns, causing the Mirage to smoke a little around the edges. I circled back and locked it up with my remaining AIM-120. As soon as the targeting box was in red, I fired. The missile streaked forward and blew the Mirage up in a bright flashing fireball.

"Aw, man. The rookie got to him first," Omega groaned.

"All bandits offline," Goodfellow said. "Great job, Bone Arrow Squadron."

"Oh, thank God," I muttered. "I was starting to run a little dry here."

"Time to go home," Viper said, as we formed up. Omega breathed a sigh of relief.

"Goodfellow to Viper," Goodfellow said. "How'd our new recruit do?"

"The Reaper kid?" Viper said. "Not bad, considering. If he applies himself, I can see him becoming useful. Anyone can if they put in the time to get past their growing pains."

Growing pains? I thought. What did that mean? I was about to ask Viper what that meant when Goodfellow answered for me.

"Too bad the last guy didn't get that far," Goodfellow said.

"Yeah, because you pushed her too hard," Viper snapped. "No wonder she's reduced to flying our transport around."

Uh-oh, I thought, my grip on the control stick tightening. Better keep up the good work, John!

The formation broke, and I followed them, heading down to the aerospace center for debriefing.

X

"Well done," Goodfellow said, shortly after we landed. "The aerospace center emerged unscathed. We're investigating the transported cargo right now. For now, this'll remain a covert op." He rubbed his eyes. I could guess something bad had happened while were occupied.

"Now, I know you guys just went halfway around the world, but I've got more work for you. A group of nine high-powered executives known as the Greymen have been kidnapped in Russia." This got a few gasps from the room. I have heard about the Greymen before. Many people did. There was a saying when you got into economics: "Whoever controls the Greymen, controls the world."

"We're talking elite members of the most exclusive circles of world economics and government," Goodfellow continued. "Meanwhile, terrorist forces have occupied a Wernher military facility in Iyuli, in southwest Russia. We've got armed insurrections around other Wernher facilities, too, and we think they're connected. So, we'll be heading for Russia. In the meanwhile, get some rest. Dismissed."

"Really?" Omega said, rubbing his eyes. "We just got here a day ago! I won't have time to enjoy the martinis they make here or the coconut shakes! What a bummer. I would kill just to spend one more day here. Now I have to endure sub-zero temperatures and cheap vodka. Man, that stuff stinks."

"I have you on record saying that, Omega," Goodfellow said, smirking.

"Don't be a snitch again, Goodfellow," Jay said, peeling back her flight suit to reveal a black bikini underneath. She winked at me and I blushed. Her acid green eyes and icy blue hair didn't help at all. "I plan on catching a few rays here before we leave." She then turned on her heels and left the briefing room. I watched her go and then turned to face Bronco.

"Does she always do that?" I whispered, hoping Goodfellow didn't overhear as he walked out of the room.

"Hmm? Jay?" Bronco said. "She always does that when we end up somewhere tropical. That's why she's my WSO. You need that kind of energy to survive." He smiled. "I'm going to catch up to her." Without another word, he left the briefing room.

I decided to go do some exploring of my own since there was still some sunlight remaining. But as I trotted through the corridors of the airbase, I heard something clatter to the floor. It was coming from my hangar.

I quickened my pace and entered the hangar, where I saw a woman working on my F-16C. She was covered from head to foot in grease, motor oil, and a few other things. She wore a pair of battered headphones around her neck, and she was dressed in a white top that was stained and a pair of green pants and combat boots. Her short hair was black and brown in some places, and she was fitting one of the pylons with an external fuel tank, prepping for the long journey ahead. She finished screwing it to the pylon and then heaved a sigh. She then glanced around and noticed me.

"Hey," she said. "Come to help?"

"Now that you said, yeah," I said, making my way over. The woman bent over and picked up the screwdriver that she had dropped.

"The name's Avril. Avril Mead," she said, extending a gloved hand. "Cheif mechanic for Arrows 'round here. I manage the maintenance for the planes." I took it and shook it. Her handshake was tougher than I thought. She must be strong, managing to screw a drop tank on by herself, let alone maintain all of Arrows' aircraft.

"Avril," I said, testing the name on my tongue. "Nice to meet you. The name's Joshua Taylor, but you can call me Reaper."

"The Grim Reaper, huh?" Avril said, breaking into a wolfish grin. "So, I finally have an acquaintance with death itself." She then broke into a fit of high-pitched laughter. "Nah, I'm just pulling on your underpants there." She glanced back at my F-16C. "You know how this got here?" she asked.

"No," I said, as I bent down to scrape some gunk off of the ventral fins. Avril heaved a sigh as she leaned on the wing of the F-16C.

"It was when I was enlisted into Arrows," she said. I paused and made the connection Viper said earlier during today's sortie.

"You're the rookie that got pushed too hard?" I asked her.

"Yup," she said, winking. "It was during a sortie where we were ambushing a pair of pirate vessels off of the Somalian coast, and Goodfellow wanted me to go after the last patrol boat. I was flying a Super Hornet at the time, and I got close, but then, those fuckers knocked out the aircraft's engines and I was forced to eject. The next thing I knew, I was in the medical wing of the base and I was grounded for good thanks to a leg injury. I was too shocked or scared to even fly for the next few months, so they regulated me to the transport squadron, Titan." She shook her head. "The next best thing we could afford with the funds was an old F-16C from the USAF. Those guys pump these things out like candies thanks to Wernher Noah. Of course, I gave her the ol' Avril Magic Touch, and she was up to PMC standards." She chuckled. "I'm glad to see my creation being put to good use." She walked over to me, and I noticed a slight limp in her stride.

"Then how did you get back up?" I said, now checking the landing gear.

"We blew almost all of our funds on getting some prosthetic placements for me," she said. "Those damn stitches hurt like hell, but I'm glad to be alive." She smiled at me. "After that, it was back to basic flight training and now, look at me! I'm flying a motherfucking C-17 Globemaster of all planes! I still yearn to get back in a fighter though." Her eyes glazed over with a dreamy look.

"You know Jay?" I asked her, now moving to the engine and leaning down to get a good look inside of the General Electric F110 engine.

"Oh, yeah," Avril said. "She is usually pretty flirty around most guys here, particularly Bronco. I hear their relationship has been solid since they first joined Arrows." I flashed back to when Jay revealed her swimsuit and winked at me. Was that for Bronco, or for me? Whatever the reason, I didn't let it stay in my head for long.

I nodded and stood up. "Well, I better get going. Nice to meet you, Avril, by the way."

"You're welcome," she said, placing an arm on my shoulder. I almost collapsed with how heavy it was. "Feel free to stop by whenever you like. I'm usually on my Globemaster." She got off me and turned back to work on the F-16C.

I exited the hangar and went back to my room. It was almost dinnertime, and I bet there was going to be something good on the menu. I didn't go there just yet. I went back to my quarters and glanced at the world outside.

The Comona Islands Aerospace Center stood gleaming in the late afternoon sun, a sun that was about to set on a world still largely at peace. But I thought otherwise.

When the world was feeling too peaceful, something big and bad tended to rise and put the world back on the brink of destruction. Now seeing the UAV attacks on Tokyo and the mysterious convoy over the center today, I felt something tell me that the world was about to go down that same path of destruction and chaos once again.

A/N: I would like to make a quick shoutout to DrWenzel and their fanfiction "Ace Combat Infinity: The Master's Ribbon" for inspiring me to write this fanfic. There will be a lot more down the line other than the 8 missions that were offered to us pilots. Ace Combat Infinity had the potential to become a superb game, but it is up to us writers to fill in the cracks left behind. Also, there will be a crossover with Project Wingman as well as other installments of the Ace Combat franchise. Be on the lookout for them!