'The cities of Oured, Bana City, November City, Aulick, Renhill and Autumn Hill have been targeted by a devastating terrorist attack.'

'Casualties range in the tens of thousands-'

'The Free State of Fascia, a small arid country situated on the coast of the Ceres Ocean, has claimed responsibility for these attacks-'

'In a statement made this morning, President Alexander said that all branches of the Osean Defence Forces will be mobilised to retaliate against this assault-'

Sitting in the 242nd's crew lounge, Grimm got an idea of just how brutal the attack by the Fascians had been. He hadn't been the only one in the dark. Many others of the wing hadn't heard about the incident in-country until Grimm, Dawn and Starshooter had committed to the intercept yesterday.

On the TV screen at the front of the room, burning buildings, explosions and masses of bodybags were shown. The attack had been coordinated. Sitting on a wooden chair, the leader of Wolf Squadron whistled in surprise.

'Amazed, captain?' One of the Titan pilots, callsign Dorn, asked rhetorically.

'Surprised and dumbfounded.' Captain Michael Huntsman Webber, the infamous Hunter of the Southern Slopes and leader of the 242nd's Wolf Squadron, answered honestly. 'I don't know what the hell they were thinking, bombing us and then taking direct responsibility for it.'

'They weren't.' Grimm said. He checked his watch. It was seven in the morning. He had to attend a briefing at seven-thirty. Without informing anyone that he was leaving, Grimm stood up and left the crew room. Huntsman didn't notice that Grimm had left until he asked a question which he didn't get an answer to.

Grimm walked through the various hallways of the base's main building complex. There were a lot of hallways. Grimm knew where they all went by instinct, he had been stationed at Sand Island long enough. After a few minutes of walking, Grimm arrived early at Briefing Room 3. Because he was just under half an hour early, the only people in there were his CO, Lieutenant-Colonel Renshaw, and a couple of enlisted techs. Renshaw noted the major's arrival.

'You're early.' He commented, setting up a laptop at the front of the room. It had a powerpoint loaded.

'Better early than late.' Grimm replied, standing to attention behind a seat at the back of the room.

'Fair. You seen Webber or Thule this morning?' Renshaw asked if Grimm had seen either of the wing's two captains.

'Huntsman's in the crew room.' Grimm replied, saying nothing about Captain Thule. Renshaw nodded. He turned to one of the enlisted and gave him an order to find Huntsman and get him to report to the briefing room they were in. That enlisted man followed the order and left the room. Grimm decided to take a seat at the front of the room.

'Has the Defence Minister given the order?' Grimm asked.

'We'll be one of the first units going into the country.' Renshaw answered. Grimm thought about that. A territorial defence wing was going to be the first to strike. Interesting.

April 4, 2016, 0800 Hours

Operation Vengeance

Western Fascia

'As you've probably already heard, terrorists sponsored by Fascia struck at multiple Osean cities. As members of the 242nd Tactical Fighter Wing, we're going to be the first to take the fight back to them.'

'We're going to be flying from Sand Island to the western districts of Fascia, taking out their air defence network and any aircraft that oppose us on the way to make way for an amphibious landing.'

'Keep your guard up. The Fascian Armed Forces were weakened by their recent civil war, but they're still capable of putting up significant resistance.'

AIRCRAFT

Titan 1/Archer: Typhoon FGR.1

Titan 2/Bolton: F-15E Strike Eagle

Titan Squadron: Typhoon FGR.1, FGR.3, FGR.4

Wolf 1/Huntsman: F-15E Strike Eagle

Wolf Squadron: F-15E Strike Eagle

As a wing, the 242nd had a lot of aircraft. Between the two fighter squads, Titan and Wolf, there were a combined total of 62 aircraft. Over by the giant hangar complexes, the 90 pilots and weapon system operators were kitting up and preparing to leave Sand Island for Fascia. A single aircraft was loud; 60 of them spooling up at once was damn near deafening. Sitting in the cockpit of his hastily-modified Typhoon FGR.1, Grimm could hear all of the engines even with earplugs in and his helmet's integrated headset on.

'ATC, Wolf Squadron, requesting takeoff permissions.' Barely audible over the radio was Huntsman looking to get his squad out of the hangars and into the air. Grimm looked around in his hangar. All of the Typhoons were idling, ready. Grimm then looked at the LCD display that showed what weapons he had. Sidewinders, AMRAAMs and GBU-12s plus a pair of drop tanks. The FGR.1 models were hasty modifications of the F.1 model, which meant they had a limited set of options for air-to-ground weapons; the most common being the GBU series of precision laser-guided bombs.

'Wolf Squadron, ATC, clear to taxi to runways 1-1 and 1-2.' The air traffic controller let the F-15Es leave the hangars for the two main runways. The noise of engines gradually got louder as thirty of the big fighter-bombers pulled out of the various hangars. Grimm waited for the Strike Eagles to clear the flight line before he requested permission for his Typhoons to depart.

'ATC, Titan Squad, requesting permission to take off from 1-1 and 1-2.' Grimm requested once the last F-15E was on the taxiway.

'Titan, ATC, permission granted to taxi, runways 1-1 and 1-2.' The ATC next cleared the Typhoon squadron to move. Grimm flipped his visor down and gave a hand signal for the men and women in his hangar to move out to the flightline. The sounds of engines intensified once again as the Typhoons started rolling. As Grimm pulled out of his hangar, he saw the first of Wolf's F-15Es lift off. If he knew the other squad, it was almost certainly Captain Webber leading them out. The man always led from the front regardless of the mission.

Grimm lined up on Runway 1-1 and pressed his throttle forwards. Gently, his Typhoon moved forward and gained speed. There was a row of four other Typhoons following behind him. Moving at 240 kilometres per hour, Grimm pulled back on the stick and his aircraft rose into the air gracefully. He brought the aircraft into a holding pattern around Sand Island while waiting for the rest of his squad to get off the ground. A few minutes later, Titan's thirty aircraft were aloft and flying in formation with their squadron leader. Flying in a giant group, Grimm brought Titan Squadron up north and towards their intended target.

Times like this reminded Grimm of the Circum-Pacific War, and of his old squadron. At that time, Grimm had only known Alex, Kei, Chopper and later Marcus for a few months. But they were the closest friends he had.

January 5, 2012

Oured, Osea

On Grimm's first official service leave since getting back in, he and Kei went sightseeing around the outskirts of the Osean capital. Alex was out of the country for reasons he didn't fully explain to anyone and had been gone for almost a full year, and Marcus was at a dive site somewhere in the Arctic. Their adventure had put them at a catwalk over a popular fishing site on a sheer cliff a half-hour drive out of the city.

'I'd hate to be afraid of heights and be here.' Grimm commented, looking over the handrails down into the ocean far below. The platform was sturdily constructed, but most would still feel sick standing on it. Facing the opposite way to Grimm's left, Kei chuckled.

'Are you afraid of heights?' She asked him sarcastically. In reply Grimm shot Kei a look of ire before shaking his head in amusement. It was late; near enough 11. They had been out for a few hours, admiring the variety of landscapes that the Osean countryside had to offer. Grimm in typical military fashion was wearing a t-shirt and cargo pants, aviators perched over his shorter than normal but longer than military standard hair. By stark comparison, Kei was wearing smart but distinctively civilian clothing. Jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and an olive green jacket. She had grown out her hair; where it had been down to the top of her neck a year and a bit ago, it was now down to her shoulders.

'Grimm, I've got something I need to tell you.' Kei said. Grimm looked to her.

'You have a kid?' Grimm guessed. Kei let her shoulders down and laughed.

'That was one time, Grimm.' She replied half-heartedly.

'One time is enough.' Grimm joked. Kei rolled her eyes and chuckled warmly.

'No you jack-ass, I've been assigned to a new mission.' Kei told Grimm the actual, correct, answer.

'A new mission? And I thought you were out of the Defence Force?' Grimm didn't follow what Kei was trying to imply. Kei looked up to the sky. Grimm followed her line of sight. They were looking at the Southern Cross, a formation of stars that were visible from the southern hemisphere.

'Ahh…' Grimm understood. Space mission. She had made it into the OSA. 'What are you gonna be doing up there?'

Kei sighed. 'Asteroid interception in deep space. I'm slated for a seven-year operation as mission commander.'

Grimm whistled in surprise. 'That's a jarring shift.'

'It will be.' Kei conceded, leaning back. She was going to continue what she was talking about before a truck of some sort rolled up to the carpark near the catwalks. It kicked up dirt and dust as it stopped. Three occupants got out of the cabin. One almost stumbled. Grimm sighed when he saw what kind of people they were. Drunk rednecks. The three people saw Grimm and Kei standing there and approached them threateningly and rapidly. Grimm reached to a spot hidden by the back of his shirt and undid a holster latch. Kei saw him do so. She reached for her own concealed carry weapon. The leader was the biggest of the group, but in front of him guarding him were the other two, both smaller and younger than the leader.

'Grimm.' Kei said urgently. Their body language and speed at which they moved indicated they were anything but friendly. Grimm nodded to Kei, turned towards the three rednecks and placed his hands behind his back with easy access to his CCW.

'Evening, men. Little late for sightseeing, wouldn't you say?' Grimm said to the approaching rednecks in a friendly tone, looking to de-escalate the situation before it started. Any hope of a peaceful de-escalation was crushed when all three pulled out different variations of knives. The leader had a flip-out utility knife, the other two only had kitchen knifes. Grimm glanced back at Kei. She nodded in approval. Grimm sighed and drew his CCW; a SIG P229. Kei pulled out her own sidearm, a Beretta 92FS. Both took aim at the trio. Even while drunk, all three recognised the threat presented by two people with guns. They turned back and sprinted for their truck.

-As quick as that memory had come around, Grimm was back in his Typhoon's cockpit. The three-hour leg had passed by quickly, and now the 242nd Wing was bearing on the coast of Fascia.

'Titan, form up at Intercept Black. Prepare for SEAD ops.' Grimm focused on the operation and banked ever so slightly north. His squad followed shortly behind. They were entering the internationally recognised airspace of Fascia. Off to the south a couple of kilometres away, Wolf Squad started their attack run. Strike Eagles were good missile trucks. The first ten of the squad volley-fired JSOW glide bombs at vital targets inland; command centres, known fixed radars, runways, the like. This was merely a ruse to get the Fascians to light up their AA network. When that happened, the Typhoon FGR.3s and 4s would strike anything emitting radar waves with HARM missiles.

'Standby. Drop, drop, drop.' Huntsman gave the order for his F-15s to fire the first shot of the war. JSOWs dropped from the Strike Eagle weapon pylons and started to fall towards their targets. As expected, the Fascians reacted by lighting up their tracking radars. The Titan members with HARMs fired at the radar wave emitters. Before the Fascians were able to get off any SAMs, the volley of HARMs found their way into most, if not all, of their tracking radars. In one single swoop the enemy's front-line air defence network had been rendered inpotent. Grimm almost smiled. But he saved it for later. They still had other objectives to complete, the second of which was striking at regional air force bases. The second half of Titan and the majority of Wolf merged to form one unit and moved forward. Their first target was Al-Ryan Air Force Base, a place well-known in the media for being the headquarters of the governmental loyalists during the Fascian civil war. The mixed formation of 30 aircraft approached. Grimm lined up his GBUs for the hardened aircraft shelters. Just inside the AAA bracket surrounding the base, Grimm got off two GBU-12s. They spiralled on a precise arc forward and downwards. The explosive package in both was armed by the speed of the fall. Their noses pointed towards the roofs of the buildings and penetrated. A clean hit. The explosive force was mostly contained by the hardened walls and roof, but the end result was that the aircraft in both hangars were destroyed. Grimm's bombs weren't the only thing that hit the base. In addition, there were also the bombs and missiles of the other aircraft. Wolf F-15Es bombed the living shit out of the terminal with dumb-guided bombs. Titan Typhoons launched Mavericks and Hellfire guided missiles at aircraft that were exposed on the flight line; F-16s, MiG-23s and MiG-25s all burnt on the ground, exploding along with the missiles that hit them.

'Titan 1, Command, priority target for you. A Fascian Navy VIP is leaving the area on a yacht, currently in the main river heading out to sea.' From all the way back at Sand Island, the mission commander pointed out a high value target. They were probably watching live via a satellite feed. Grimm turned away from the airfield and looked for the aforementioned river. It wasn't far away. Grimm followed the river for a minute or two before happening upon the VIP's yacht. It was a small white vessel making full speed for the open ocean. While lacking missiles, Grimm did have his aircraft's cannon. He placed the yacht on the targeting reticule on his HUD and fired a long burst. As an unarmoured vessel, it didn't last very long. The small boat was torn apart from top to bottom, turned into swiss cheese along with the VIP. A side objective quickly completed. Grimm returned to Al-Ryan to quickly find that the attack aircraft had made very short work of every vital structure present on the base. He whistled.

'Command, Titan 1, Al-Ryan Air Force Base, the Navy VIP and the regional air defence network have all been taken out. Requesting directive.' Grimm mentioned as such to command.

'Titan, standby over the area. Carrier fighters are en-route to take over air cover for the marines.' Command gave the 242nd Wing orders.

'Just as well. Archer, we've got interceptors! Inbound, straight from the east.' Huntsman called out to his wing leader. Grimm looked at his radar. Fascian MiG-25 Foxhounds, probably scrambled from some inland base, were very rapidly bearing on the Osean Typhoons and Strike Eagles. Grimm turned to face them and popped off a couple of AMRAAMs.

'Foxhounds. They're fast, but handle like a truck.' Grimm warned his squad of their threat. A few already knew, but the newer recruits appreciated the heads-up as the entire wing fired missiles at the ten-man formation of enemy MiG-25s. Over 60 missiles were launched. There was no way that the Foxhounds could have evaded that many inbounds. They all tried to evade, but there was no hope. The skies around them were overcome by black clouds of smoke and shrapnel. All ten were destroyed. Grimm found himself asking if there was such a thing as overkill.

'Enemy down. Christ, that was a lot of shit going downrange.' Titan 2, Bolton, commented. There were a few chuckles around the wing.

'They deserved it, to be fair.' Wolf 18, Taipan, justified their actions.

'242nd Wing, this is your local neighbor squadron, VFA-359. We're on station for CAP and CAS. You guys can go home.' Meanwhile, an OMDF fighter squadron had found their way to the Fascian coastline. Not far behind them were the first couple of Marine Corp battalions; the first ground troops that would be entering the country.

'Roger. Titan, Wolf, mission complete. Return to base.' Grimm gave the order for his pilots to withdraw. For many of the pilots in the wing, this was their first combat sortie, and the first time they had fired at live targets. Their training had ensured the mission went down smoothly. Grimm was impressed by the performance of the men and women under his command today. He would reflect on that for the three-hour trip back to base.