Military Calendar/: 1200hrs 24 September 2010/

Osean Capital, Oured

Vincent Harling lifted his chin slightly as he adjusted his dark blue suit's silky ashen grey tie around his neck, looking in the mirror. He painstakingly checked every aspect of his attire for any faults. After hopelessly trying to press out some small inconvenient wrinkles with his hands, he settled on his overall appearance and lowered his hands to rest at his sides. With a loud sigh he focused his eyes on the ones in the mirror. He never considered himself a good looking man. However, he was grateful to still have head full of dark hair despite his forty-nine years of age. "People, of The Federation of Osea" he said to himself with a practiced deep conjured vocal effect. He then took another deep breath and reconnected his focus back on his mirrored eyes, trying to look as confident as possible. "People, of The Federation of Osea" He said again, this time softer. Being nervous was something he had to live with every day in his line of work. An entire country's populace looked to him for answers, but today, the entire world will be watching him.

There were three soft knocks on a door behind him. "Yes?" Vincent asked to the person behind the door. It opened and a man donned in a black suit stepped only a foot in. "Mr. President, the broadcast will begin in fifteen minutes" he said with eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Vincent nodded at the Secret Service member and managed a confident practiced smile. "Thank you" He replied. The man nodded back and stepped out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him. Vincent looked around his office. Taking in everything from the old painted pictures of past important political figures hung on the walls, to the intricately designed wooden presidential desk that once sat the many great leaders of the country before him. The desk was now stacked with the hundreds of printed responsibilities he had yet to delve into. He walked across the soft blue carpet that was the entirety the room's floor. Melded into it was the Osean flag with its six white and blue stars that circled around its center. The brown leather furniture in the middle of the room stretched out over the flag and added a more 1700's look to the atmosphere. He stopped just before the desk and picked up a small framed picture from its edge. He, his wife, and his daughter stood together with smiles spread across their faces in the family photo. There was no need for him to practice this smile. His daughter turned eighteen today, and he had planned a small humble party to celebrate. Now however, instead of enjoying the time with his family he was to make a decision that would affect not only his country, but the whole civilized world. A decision he hoped he'd never have to make. The decision to answer Yuktobania's declaration of war, knowing he would be condemning the lives many in a conflict that would only end in blood, regardless of the faction or its military power.

Vincent set the picture down and looked out of the large windows that made up most of the wall directly behind the desk. The day was gorgeous, not a cloud in the sunny sky over Osea's capital, Oured. He then turned and walked to the double wooden doors on the other side of the room. Upon exiting, two Secret Service members moved to greet him and took their designated places at his sides as they walked in unison down the marble hall. The innards of the Osean White House were a mixture of old and new designs, its history is dated back to the foundation of Osea itself, and in that time span the building was destroyed and rebuilt numerous times. This lead to the many diverse styles that made almost every room a reflection of a certain time period. More hand painted portraits decorated the wall as he made his way to the auditorium were he would make his speech. As he rounded a pillared corner he was greeted by a man as well dressed as himself. Vice President John Appelrouth placed a hand on Vincent's shoulder and held the other out openly. Vincent took the offer and shook his hand. Appelrouth nodded with a smile "Good luck Mr. President, today we make a huge step for our country". Vincent smiled back, but again felt himself having to try. "Yes, but unfortunately it's in the wrong direction, Vice President". Vincent knew Appelrouth has been adamant about the idea of war against The Republics of Yuktobania ever since the Cold War in 1990, where tensions grew to the point of near nuclear war, and lead to the construction of the Arch Bird, a mobile atmospheric missile defense platform. Stating that securing them in as a economic vassal would provide them with six times the resources and securing worldwide power to maintain peace. Vincent removed his hand respectfully from Appelrouth's and moved on down the hall. After Yuktobania aided Osea in the Belkan conflict, time caused old wounds to reopen and the breaking point has apparently just now reached its critical mass. Attempts to make diplomatic talks with the Prime Minister of Yuktobania after the declaration have met with rejection. Thousands of Osean citizens who were currently in the country were being flocked and threatened back to Osea. At least The Prime Minister had some sense of virtue. Vincent continued his way through the royally decorative halls before reaching the double doors that would open out into the broadcast auditorium. The Secret Service members moved to the doors and opened them both simultaneously as Vincent walked into the massive room. As he entered, the mass of people who were where sitting in vast rows of seats, stood up in respect.

Vincent walked down the carpeted isle that lead to a large stage, where a small wooden podium stood. He stepped up to the stage. His insides felt like they were churning violently now. But he knew he couldn't show fear, couldn't show hesitation. President Vincent Harling then stood behind the podium and the room of people took their seats. He looked down to the front row of seats where the Secretary of Defense, Director of Homeland Security, and The Speaker of the House sat. Like the rest of the room full of delegates, they too sat and looked to him with eyes of both wonder and unwavering anticipation. Vincent looked down at the collection of papers that contained his speech, reading the first view lines before looking up to face the viewers again, noticing camera recording teams at the back of the auditorium moving to zoom their lens' on his face. "People of the Federation of Osea" He spoke it loud and clear, better then he rehearsed. "On the 23rd of September, at 11:30AM Western Ceres's Time, The Republics of Yuktobania engaged eight Osean F-16 fighters with four MiG-29 fighter aircraft, attacking without hesitation and killing six Osean pilots" He looked back to the papers, reading the next few lines and started again. "Following this unprovoked attack, today on the 24th of September, at 2:00PM Western Cere's Time, The Republics of Yuktobania then commenced a massive air assault on the western coast of Osea, destroying four military installations, and five Naval vessels, resulting in over one seven thousand casualties" the tension in the room grew to almost visible levels now. He paused and returned his sight to the papers, reading off the list of ships and facilities that were destroyed. "The military installations attacked include, Cape Lander's Air Force Base, St. Hewlett Naval Port-

/Sand Island Air Force Base/ 1230hrs

Hans Grimm stood with a small plastic cup of hot black coffee in his hand, observing the crowd of people who viewed president's speech on the small TV that hung from the ceiling in the Barracks' main hall. His gaze however, was set on something different, someone. He watched Second Lieutenant Emma Hales from the kitchen area he was standing. She was sitting next to the window on a sofa, peering outside. Her silky blonde hair was let down so it fell just over her upper back, her pale skin seemed to glow softly from the sun and really stood out against her dark leather jacket that draped over her frail form. She's beautiful he thought. The war had been very real for him and everyone else here before the rest of the world even knew about it. So his attention was naturally drawn to something a little more innocent, and comforting. While in his day dreaming state, Emma turned her head slightly to look at him with her emerald green eyes. Hans froze in surprise for a second before Davenport's face spontaneously appeared only inches from his own. Hans jerked violently backwards, throwing his coffee into the wall behind him. "YO! How's it going Grimm!?" he yelled as Hans jumped, completely ignoring his coffee situation. "Just trying to watch the speech Davenport" he said with a hint of frustration. "Yea, sure you where man" Davenport said with a smile. "Listen, I'm giving you a heads up" Davenport continued, while looking around cautiously, then leaned in and spoke in a near whisper. "There's this journalist going around base asking lots of questions and looking for interviews, says he's a freelancer doing a story on Wardog squadron". Hans gave a confused look back to Davenport "And, that's bad because..?". "Oh, you wanna get pulled into a quiet room and have your time wasted on stupid questions then be my guest Mr. Celebrity" Davenport said back, wobbling his hands in the air and rolling his eyes. After he walked off, Hans looked back to the sofa where Emma was sitting only to discover that she had left. He let out a sigh and moved to clean the mess of coffee on the wall behind him.

The sound of bullets being fired from Kei's M9 pistol down the indoor firing range echoed out quickly as she squeezed the trigger with determined precision, the center of the small black target at the furthest reaches of the shooting isle tore apart piece by piece after each shot. Kei's face was a solid mass of anger and relentless concentration behind her clear protective eyewear. As the last shot rang out, and the bullet casing dinged off the floor, she noticed her breathing was heavy. Not from exhaustion, but from the stress of trying to calm her nerves. Captain Bartlett was not found at his ejection site, however his chute and raft was. That was hours ago, rescue teams are currently searching for him, but nothing has come of it. It doesn't make any sense. Kei grit her teeth and lowered her pistol, reaching up and pulling her ear cuffs down to rest around her neck. "You're really good at that" Said a casual voice from behind her. She turned to see First Lieutenant Stratton standing with his hands in his blue jeans' pockets, looking at her with a genuinely surprised expression. "Thank you, Sir" she said, dropping her empty magazine and catching it with her free hand, placing it upon the counter in front of her. "You don't have to call me that while we are in civilian attire Nagase, last names are fine" Kei turned to look at him again. "Yes, sir"

Stratton let out a sighed chuckle "Not interested in watching the president's speech, I take it?" he asked as he walked to her. Kei placed her pistol on the counter and took off her eyewear. "With all due respect, sir, the war is quite literally yesterday's news for us" Stratton stopped before her and turned his expression into a more serious one. "I will be the new flight lead of Wardog Squadron, effective as of now, per Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton's orders" Kei gave a sudden sign of shock by slightly widening her eyes but quickly darted them to the ground in repose. "yes, sir, I look forward to flying under you". Stratton placed a hand on her shoulder "The Captain was a good man, and I know there's still a chance he's alive out there" he said, catching onto Kei's frustration. Kei looked back at him, eyes starting to swell and turn red. Stratton reached into his pants' pocket and pulled out his wallet, plucking a photo from its pouch. He held it out to Kei, she took it and gazed down at it. Three small children were jumping on a couch with a woman sitting between them. The kids seemed to be making weird faces by pulling on their cheeks and lips, the woman wasn't even looking toward the camera as apparently she was too busy trying to correct the little rascals. Kei smiled for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. "Family?" She asked. "Yep, two girls and one boy, the boy being the youngest of the bunch" Stratton took the photo back and stared into it, like he was remembering a fond memory. "My son's name is Bryan, and being the only guy in the house when I'm gone, he does this thing where acts like the dad. So we play this game where we take turns being the 'Man of the House', of course the rule is, the only way one of us could be the Man of the House was by holding onto this old coin" Stratton then pulled a small faded silver coin from his wallet and held it out flat in his palm "I promised that when I came home this time, I'd give it to him" Kei gave a concerned look back to Stratton "They must be worried sick".

Stratton placed the coin and the photo back into the confines of his wallet "Well my wife is, the kids don't need to know yet, still too young, you know" Kei nodded and smiled again. Stratton raised a brow at her "So, you got a lover back home?" Kei seemed to be taken back by the question, looking almost startled and embarrassed. "N-no, not at all, sir" Kei looked to the corner of room for a second, visibly turning a pinkish red around her upper cheeks. Stratton laughed a bit "ok, what about family?" Kei regained her composer and mustered an answer "A mother" she said with a bigger smile then she intended. "Just a mother?" He asked. "yes, It's always just been me and her, my father left when I was very young". Stratton twisted his lips and nodded gently, looking at the floor. "It's important to remember we're here for a reason Nagase, whether you know what the reason is, or still searching for it" He said before meeting Kei's gaze again. Stratton's words hit Kei with some sudden reality, ever since her first combat engagement, she had easily forgotten the reason she was here. The moment abruptly ended as the door on the other side of the room swung open quickly and Davenport leaned inside "Yo! Guys you gotta come check this out, Hamilton and Blaze are gonna dogfight!" He yelled, then disappeared behind the door as quickly as he came, leaving Kei and Stratton standing with blank expressions on their faces.

Kei quickly jogged down the Barracks' hall with Stratton at her side. "Where is everyone?" Asked Stratton as they passed empty rooms and workstations. There were a lot less people in the barracks since most of them where pulled back to the mainland, but right now it looked almost abandoned. They came to a stop at the exit and pushed the door open. Bright sunlight blinded Kei at first, but as her vision cleared, she noticed a mass of military uniformed personal standing all around, transfixed on the runway in the distance. She hustled her way to the front of the crowd and saw what everyone was looking at. A F-16 Fighting Falcon was speeding off the runway with the same F-14 that Blaze flew, parallel to it. both aircraft quickly blasted their afterburners loudly as they shot off the airstrip at an intense angle. What is going on? Why would the Colonel be flying a SIM battle with a new pilot? She thought as she reached her palm above her brows to shield the sun from her eyes, watching the aircraft reach their minimum altitude roof, then tear from each other's sides and dart in opposite directions. "Make your bets! Who's gonna take home the win today! The talented rookie Blaze! or the undefeated LT Colonel Hamilton!" Davenport yelled out, waving two uniform Covers full of dollar bills in the air. Men and women raised their bets high and waved them around above their heads. "Twenty on the new kid, Davenport!" one called out. "My moneys' on the Colonel!" a woman called before sliding her bill into the appropriate Cover. Kei moved to Davenport "What's going on?" she asked. "Oh, Nagase! You actually came!" Davenport lowered the caps then leaned in close enough to Kei for her to here over the crowd. "Hell if I know, Blaze was just sitting in the DEFAC eating and the Colonel walked up to him, saying something about testing his flight ability or something, then before you know it they were loading up and taking off!"

Kei opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted as the thundering sound of jet engines roared through the air. She turned to the skies again to see both aircraft speeding towards each other. Per SIM regulations, both aircraft will pass one another and give seven seconds before turning to grab a simulated Lock on the opponent's aircraft. They only need to hold the Lock for five whole seconds for a win. The excitement and anticipation was growing in the crowd as they all fell silent and watched as the fighters blew past each other at booming speeds. Hamilton's F-16 bore hard right immediately after the seven seconds elapsed, but Blaze's F-14 did a simple slight left, almost putting himself directly into Hamilton's flight path. What the hell is he doing? It's like he's trying to lose, she thought. A man let out a chuckle behind her "Looks like the 'talented rookie' is nothing too special after all, what an idiot" he said. A man beside her chimed in as well "Yea well, there's no way an F-14 could keep up with the 16 anyway, damn, guess I'm out twenty bucks". Kei knew Blaze had already managed to obtain a MiG-29 kill while following her F-16, so what's he thinking? she watched as Blaze stayed in his slight left angled turn and Hamilton shooting towards him at attack speed. She knew Hamilton couldn't be far from Lock range now, and gritted her teeth in suspense. Then, just as Hamilton arched behind Blaze in what would be the game finishing move, Blazes' F-14 dropped its flaps and air-braked so fast that Hamilton could not course correct fast enough to stay glued to his tail. Blaze tilted the F-14's nose upward slightly as Hamilton flew right under him, in that instant Blaze twisted his aircraft in an incredibly quick spiral before matching Hamilton's exact escaping flight path. Kei stood in sheer disbelieve at the spectacle. The crowd let out a loud roar of surprise. "Holy shit! How did he do that?!" A woman exclaimed loudly behind her. Kei watched, wide-eyed, as Blaze easily stayed on Hamilton for the full five seconds. Loud cheers and shocked awe's resounded throughout the crowd. It was over in just a few minutes. Amazing.

Once the dogfight ended, and many angry bets were paid, the crowd dispersed and returned to their duties. Kei found her way to Hanger 4, where her F-16 was parked. She still could not believe that, this new kid, had beaten Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton in a SIM battle. Out of the countless SIMs she had seen herself, no one had ever come close, even pilots with prior dogfighting experience. She stared up at her aircraft, looking over its cloud grey painted panels and ran her hand across the 108th Squadron number on its nose. She took the moment to remember why she had joined the Osean Air Force. It was years ago, but she remembered every moment like it was just a few days. She remembered when she and her mother fled their oppressive country to come to Osea, in hopes to make a new life. Osea, or 'The Land of Opportunity' as many called it, had granted them entry, despite their lack of skills and knowledge. Giving them the chance to gain citizenship and be a part of Osean society. She was eager to give back as much as she took, to protect this country and all it stood for, so that it could continue to be a beacon of freedom to the oppressed. After turning eighteen, she wasted no time walking to her nearest recruiting station. There was something amazing about the ability to soar high above the world, viewing everything through a bird's eyes, that captured her wonder and imagination. So without hesitation she knew her place was in the Osean Air Force. She owed everything to this country, her dreams, her achievements, and her hope. Kei knew that was the reason why she had joined, that was her reason for being here. Ever since her near death in the last battle, she felt her reality slipping, her resolve fading. But watching Blaze fly today, renewed her strength somehow. The sound of something heavy and made of metal dropping on the cement ground startled her and she turned her head quickly to look in its direction.

A man stood looking almost as startled as she was near the open hanger door, holding an expensive looking camera in his hands. It was obvious he had not intended to knock over the metal tool from the table next to him. Kei felt embarrassed. "Were you just...?" She started, looking at his camera. "No! No, well… actually yes" He said, fidgeting nervously. He hung the camera's sling around his neck and looked desperate to defend his case. "I'm a journalist, and I'm looking for a Lieutenant Kei Nagase". Kei relaxed a bit "How can I help you?". The man looked shocked and quickly moved to her "Ah, it's a pleasure ma'am, please excuse me, I've been trying to take as many pictures as I can of the men and women in uniform here" as he reached her he held his hand out openly "I'm Albert Genette". Kei nodded and shook his hand "What brings a journalist all the way out here?" she asked. She thought it was odd, all the action was taking place on the mainland. Albert ended the handshake "I wanted to meet the pilots who fought the Yuktobanians in the First Strike" he replied, Giving her a look of respect and admiration. Kei's insides dropped suddenly as he said 'pilots', Since Captain Bartlett was MIA, she was the only surviving member of the original Wardog squadron. The 'First Strike' is what they are calling the slaughter of her wingman, she felt the name was to cover up just how bad the battle ended for Osea. "I'm sorry, but I'm the only one left from that engagement now" She said in reply, trying to keep her eyes cold to hide the emotion she felt. Albert went straight like a board "O-oh yes I heard about this morning, I'm sorry" He stuttered nervously. She knew he didn't mean anything by it. Kei managed a smile "So, what can I do for you, Albert?".

/ 1600hrs

Oured, Osean White House

Vincent sat with hands clasped together, leaning on the long table that stretched out before him with his elbows. His secretaries were all seated along the table's length, eyes glued to him in silence. He had been staring at the well-polished tabletop for a good few minutes now. A maelstrom of thoughts was raging through his mind. He knew words that needed to be said, things he needed to do, but for the first time in his entire political career, he had no idea where to start. Prime Minister of Yuktobania, Seryozha Nikanor, had aired two responses to Osea since the First Strike, neither contained any intentions of peace. He stated in the first public statement, that the reasoning behind the act of aggression was that Osea was revealed to be behind the catastrophic explosion of a major power plant in Stoviza. The event had occurred a few months ago, and caused many casualties, damaging the county's infrastructure in the region by a considerable margin. The problem was that to Vincent's knowledge, there was no involvement from his country and denied these claims despite evidence that was brought against him. The second statement was after the attacks, and was a request from the Republics of Yuktobania that Osea surrender its military assets and in the Ceres Sea and comply to their other requests in the treaty they had already prepared. Despite what Vincent wanted, the people of Osea, the mothers and fathers whose sons and daughters were killed in the attacks, did not want peace. Osea is crying for revenge, for war. "Mr. President?" asked the Secretary of Defense, with more curiosity then the question implied. Vincent seemed to snap out of a trance, then straightened his posture. "I'm sorry, let's get started" he said, looking around the room full of officials.

Director of Homeland Security Douglas O'conner shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position before speaking. "Sir, I believe the first step we must take is to assure the public that we have internal control of the situation, region stability depends of our avocation that our borders will be adequately defended". Head of the Department of Energy, Joan Kendal, leaned in over the table to indicate her turn to speak "There is the concern of the massive loss of power facilities and equipment in the areas that were bombed, some neighboring towns are without electricity and may be without it for some time unless we take steps to ensure repairs are made and new facilities are erected". Vincent nodded at the proposals, then looked to Secretary of Defense, Jon McNeil, for his input. Jon acknowledged the silent question with a nod of his own before speaking "Mr. President I have the General of the Air Force, and Fleet Admiral of the Navy with me, I think they could shed some more light on the militaristic situation". The military personal sat in chairs at either side of Jon, the grizzled leather faced Fleet Admiral, Daniel Withers, was donned in a thick black dress uniform, a tall stack of colored ribbons tiled down the left side of his chest from the shoulder with numerous golden stripes and chevrons along his left sleeve. George Kross, the General of the Air Force, was a slender pale length of a man whose age seem much more hidden then the admiral's, but his Dark blue dress uniform was just as decorated. Admiral Daniel Withers cleared his raspy throat "Mr. President, as you already know, the 7th fleet was hit hard by the attacks, we lost one aircraft carrier and multiple cruisers" He then opened a folder of organized papers and flipped through some before speaking again "The 2nd and 3rd fleets are being held on standby in the Spring and Anfang Seas, collaborating with Usean forces to mobilize, however the other feets in Verusian waters are in a deadlock with Yuktobania's allies in Europa".

Vincent gripped his hands together tighter. The world was watching them now, holding its breath as Allies were called and sides were taken. "Has there been any more aggression from Yuktobania?" Vincent asked to anyone with an answer. General George Kross looked around the room to make sure no one else was going to say anything before speaking up "Sir, there was an aerial engagement this morning at zero six hundred hours, we tracked a stealth drone retreating from Cape Landers westward over the Ceres, our only active squadron in the area tracked the drone and was forced to engage four enemy MiGs". Vincent moved his hand to his brow to gently rub out a slight migraine that was growing in his skull "Were there any casualties?" he asked. George looked down at his own set of papers then replied "Just one MIA sir, however the drone was destroyed, as well as two enemy craft". Vincent froze, then leaned in slightly in curiosity "So, the mission was a success?" he asked the general. George gave a reassuring look "Yes, Mr. President". Vincent didn't know exactly why but for some reason he felt some relief knowing that at least one victory had come from these days of death. Then he remembered something "Is that the same squadron that was attacked in the First Strike?" Vincent asked almost eagerly. "Yes sir, the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron, but there is only one pilot left who participated in the First Strike" General Kross replied. If the situation was any different, Vincent would waste no time going to shake that pilot's hand in person. But for now a recommendation for a medal would have to do. "What about the MIA?" Vincent asked. George flipped a piece of paper over to reveal the second page behind it, after scanning its contents, he met Vincent's gaze again. "Captain Jack Bartlett was shot down during this morning's engagement and ejected safely into the ocean, however once the rescue helicopters had arrived he was not found anywhere in the vicinity of his raft, his whereabouts are still currently unknown".

The room fell silent as Vincent again, looked down at the tabletop in deep thought. Variables passed through his mind in uncountable negative outcomes. Surrender was not an option, but neither was a World War. Vincent felt the weight of billions of lives on his shoulders, he had done well to keep his stress to a hidden level but he now noticed his breathing was heavy, sweat beading on his forehead. He thought of his wife and daughter, and their smiles. Vincent took a deep breath and raised his head, looking to George Kross "General, procced to reactivate 'Project White Bird' as soon as possible". The General looked as if he was at a loss of words at first, then found himself quickly "Yes, sir Mr. President". Fleet Admiral Withers then spoke in turn "Sir, I suggest we regroup our naval forces in the Ceres Sea to Foster bay and the Eaglin Straits, so we may have a higher defense effectiveness against more attacks from the east". Vincent gave a nod of approval to Withers "Do what you have to Admiral, congress has already approved the fleets' movement". Vincent feared the threat of Nuclear war, but ever since The Cold War, countries around the world developed powerful missile defense systems, rendering the chances of a Scorched Earth event very low. But not absent. Vincent knew the hardest part of his job would now begin, he will have to sit and wait.