"The purpose of war is to obtain peace. The purpose of peace is to obtain war."-Sun Tzu

At the tip of the Armenian Air Force Base, final preperations were underway to celebrate the 21st year of peace between Argaria and Fazince. Most staff members had their hands full with for Colonel. Michael Anderson.

Anderson was one of the few remaining army personal to continue serving in the army since the Argarian-Fazin war 21 years ago. 17 at the time, at the age of 39 he is one of the most experienced in the air force and has seen many hours combat. More than 120 hours in fact. He also has been deployed to more than 8 countries ever since Argaria enrolled in the United Nations Peacekeeping Force(UNPF) since 2002, 19 years ago. He has seen many countries being devastated and has taken part in some of them himself. He felt sorry for some of them, especially Irazm, in which his operation he was forced to bomb refugee shelters because they were many high priority targets hiding among them. But he has never felt sympathy towards one nation. And that nation was Fazince.

Having actively taking part in the war since he was 17 when he first enrolled in the Argarian Air Force(AAF), he never once felt bad about killing the civilians and soldiers. Because he were brainwashed fools that were taught to hate Argaria ever since a young age. He has never participated in any activities, ceremonies and functions linked to Fazince or the peace celebrations between the 2 countries.

He descended from the stairs that connected the hangar to the main building with a toolbox and headed towards his plane and did his own maintainance. This was how he killed his free time usually. While doing so, someone called out to him. "Sir! What are you doing here?"

Anderson looked behind him and saw one of his Squadron mates- First Lt. Thomas Rodwell. Rodwell had been with the air force for 10 years but unlike Anderson, he wasn't active. He spent most of his time as a reserve or backup pilot until recently, where he requested a transfer as he felt he wanted more action. And he was transferred to Anderson's squadron as result- Lightning Squadron. Not liking the Fazins themselves much, he too usually skips out on events like today's.

"Not going to the event this year eh Rod?" Asked Anderson. To which he replied: "No sir. Rather be cleaning up the hangar. Don't really like the people there." As he continued to clean the squadron's hangar. "Been there a few times. Bunch of politicians and generals discussing nothing but worthless matters like who should host next years Intercontinential Football Cup. I mean I like football but if you go into an event like that there must be something more interesting to discuss other than that kind of shit." Rodwell continued.

"Got any papers today anyway?" Anderson snapped his fingers asking for today's paper while continuing his work on the plane. Rodwell snatched the copy of The Outlook and tossed it to him. He received it, stopped his work and started reading the sports section. Ignoring the headlines of the 21st anniversary.

"Armenia City 3-2 Welfjord United, SDFC 1-4 Klinstown... never mind. Nothing but 3rd division matches today and news section today which is just cringe worthy." He commented as he tossed the paper away and continued to work on his plane. "When we're done with this, how about we go for some food sir? My treat." Offered the younger compatriot as he finished cleaning the place. Anderson declined however, saying that he go on ahead without him as he still needed an hour or so to complete his work. And so he left the hangar, leaving the Colonel alone in his work.

Until half an hour later when an alarm was sounded and his work was interrupted. Except this wasn't a normal alrarm.

It was an emergency sortie alarm.

As he quickly dressed and put on his Fighter Pilot suit, he headed to the briefing room for the quick overview of what happened. Rodwell was already in there and so were the rest of his squadron mates- Staff Sergeant Simon Grendall and Technical Seargent Max Bryon. Both experienced, but not as him or Rodwell. The new AWACS( Airborne warning and control system) officer was going to brief them. Anderson however could not remember his name. It didn't matter as the officer reintroduced himself and started the briefing.

"Ah... Yes, Officer Richard Fowell. I will be the AWACS for this sortie." He said in a sheepish tone. "About 9 minutes ago, our radars at the north point of Armenia have detected multiple unknown aircraft penetrating and entering Argarian air space, which uh... is a violation on a very high level." The young officer said as he sort of struggled for words. First timer, Anderson thought, as the briefing continued. "Like I said. We have no idea what these aircraft are or what are their motives or where they are from, so we have to take immediate action. You are requested to deploy and escort them back here so we can intterogate them. That... is all." He ended as the squadron got ready for sortie. "Some lovely buggers eh? Interrupting our celebration day 't they have chosen someone else?" Grendall remarked as he felt annoyed that his celebration time had to be cut off. "I agree sir why us?" The young gun Max chimed in as well, as the team headed towards their planes while the hangar doors were opening.

"Because if they did so, some other poor leader is gonna have to listen to his whiny squadron mates complain about the same thing too. Just suck it up and do it. Its not like it will take the whole day." Replied the leader as the squadron got into their planes. "He's right you know. If all goes to plan, you still have 6 hours left for celebrating." Said Rodwell through radio.

"All right, enough talk. Lightning Squadron, lets roll."