Chp. 2: A Den of Noble Wolves

October 4, 2049

Rana AFB, Republic of Chakari

Shark and Shamu's F-72 ran along the west bank of the Ma'at River, bound for the home station of the Chakari Republic Air Force's No. 3 Fighter Squadron, the Greywolves. Santosh kept on his wing until they passed into the landing pattern. Sharky broke off and circled around the airfield once their turn was up, following an EF-2000E Typhoon II. He went back and forth with the control tower while they brought him in onto one of the runways. For all the advances in weapons tech, landing a fighter was still pretty much the same as it had always been. Though, modern navigation systems and data exchange allowed him a better idea of how the wind affected his approach to the base. Rana's location meant that most of the winds were ones that came in from the coast. She'd been a mid-level hub for the RAF's expeditionary needs and had all the needed assets to support several squadrons of fighters and support. Nothing seemed truly permanent, though. She felt like a temporary forward base, with her close-in defenses provided by APCs armed with IRIS-T missiles or radar-guided cannons. The runway he was bound for was angled so that he was flying into the wind. His plane floated over the fields and the workers deep in the year's harvesting season, then settled down onto the runway gracefully.

Sharky throttled back and braced as the aircraft slowed from nearly 200 miles per hour to a jogging pace. He turned off onto a taxiway as Santosh was entering the final approach along the flashing line of INS lights growing brighter as the afternoon wore on. He guided the aircraft across the tarmac and around a series of hardened shelters, leftovers from when the base had been in Lenish hands. The rear doors were open and ready and the front doors were open to give him room to maneuver and so that air would flow into and out of the space. Victor Nobolev, the aircraft's Crew Chief, was waiting while another employee of Rosenthal Incorporated guided the fighter into its home. All the tension of flight, being stuck in a seat for hours on end, melted as Sharky brought the plane to a stop and raised the canopy. Vic was rising from the side of the cockpit seconds after the engines started to spool down.

"How was the flight, guys?" He asked.

"Good, very good. ACM was a solid 2:3 in terms of win-loss. For once I think nothing on my end was glitching." The pilot said.

"Nothing on my end, either." His backseater chimed in as he pried off his helmet.

"Good, good. Well either way we're gonna open her up and make sure everything's up to snuff. Needles keeps saying he's worried about the mechanisms for the bay doors but the parts won't get here until tomorrow."

Sharky lifted himself out of his seat, giving his legs a minute to adjust to moving again. As the two pilots descended, ChRAF personnel hurried over to remove the AMRAAMs from the middle bay so the Rosenthal personnel could inspect the aircraft unhindered. Sharky looked back at the machine and still felt like he hadn't fully meshed with this particular bird. It wasn't his, and it wasn't in the Rosenthal-standard splinter camo he was used to. The whole light grey, dark grey half-n-half stuff this one had was okay but it didn't have the character (and utility for low level) that he preferred. The two weren't even really allowed to put any kind of personal markings on it, so it had to be unofficially crowned "Levy II" with the hope that one day they could actually christen it as such. The two fliers left the shelter behind, bound for a collection of modest buildings at the end of the row of shelters. Santosh and Joshi were mounting up in a Land Rover that'd come to get them. The younger pilot waved them over to the open-topped vehicle, but Sharky held up a hand to decline.

"Gotta think of what to say when we get to debriefing." He explained.

"Get in, Mister Sarkar; you can think on the ride over. We should get to debriefing quickly." Joshi replied.

Shamu was never one to pass up a free ride and, mindful of the point Joshi had, jumped in as well. The jeep's driver sped off towards the maintenance hangers and ducked in between two so it could carry the four to No. 3 Squadron's HQ. The driver parked outside the single-story, red-brick building and let the pilots off near the flagpole. Joshi took the lead, walking with a purpose as he pushed open a pair of double doors at the end of a short sidewalk. Inside, the offices were in a state of calm as the officers, enlisted personnel and the contractors were on the day's downslope. Sharky was still thinking of what to say about the flight; truth was it'd been a pretty solid fight. He wasn't keen on spending at least half an hour blowing sunshine up Sady and A-Jo's asses. He waved them on to where the two smaller meeting rooms while he stopped by at the main office for Rosenthal's mission here. The music lowered as someone spotted their boss standing in the doorway.

"Hey Crow, ZE23 is gonna be down for a full-body inspection by Vic and his crew, so make sure it's not on the schedule." He said to the Operations Officer, Kent Blacke.

"Gotcha boss, how long that gonna take?"

"For now keep it off for a day and bug Vic after that day to see if it's ready. If he doesn't reach out first."

"Will do. Oh before I forget, Mister C rang earlier while you were out. Asked that you call him back if you have the chance tonight."

"He say what it was about?"

"Hey Leppe, Mister C say what he wanted to talk to Sharkman about?"

The systems analyst who'd taken the call shook his head.

"Just said to call you back at your earliest convenience."

"Alright. If he calls again just come grab me. Gotta be important if the COO is reaching out. Thanks guys."

Shamu poked his head in to say hi and get something while his pilot walked down the hall to the storage lockers around the corner. Or rather the room that'd been set aside so the contractors had a place to store their things.

"So what do we want to tell our partners what to take away from this flight?" Shamu asked as he opened the locker next to Sharky's.

"The kid is learning by watching us and he seems to have a solid partnership with his backseater. I want to make sure they realize that fighting and winning against another Sabertooth is not something to use as proof they're at their best. I want to run through the scenario like they were fighting something from the SAF, probably against a Flatpack or a Flanker-H. Maybe a Tejas." The other man replied.

"I'm sure the guys in the Tiffie units could help. Thing's close enough to performance to the first two that we might be able to work something out. Or Mister C might spare us some of the company's Vipers to help."

"The chances of getting more over here are slim; the guys at Sapphire Valley pretty much have those Vipers tied down."

Rosenthal's inventory was limited in fixed-wing assets, especially fighters. Their F-72s...F-16Js, T-7C Redtails and the F-15Es for systems work. Not much they could bring over that wasn't already tied down. Sharky made a note to talk to the Typhoon drivers over at No.17 Squadron, especially the RAF guys there on exchange. He set his helmet on the top shelf, shark mouth facing outwards, and followed Shamu out and down the hall. A few turns later they were entering one of the smaller meeting rooms, where Santosh and Joshi were reviewing the "gun camera" footage of their mission. A pair of squadron intelligence officers were huddled in the corner. One, a Wing Commander in dark tan fatigues, stood up and walked to the senior pilot.

"Mister Sarkar, glad you could join us today. We were simply here to sit in on the debriefing for informational purposes as we often are. Pay us no mind, but we will need to collect your HUD tapes afterwards to complete our report. They and the flight data recorded will be copied and handed over to your men after we have ensured we've reviewed them to our liking." He said in near-perfect Lenish, offering a hand. Sharky, out of professional pride, accepted the gesture.

"Alright Commander Natouk, thank you for letting me know." He said in a polite tone.

Santosh paused the video as Sharky walked over to the whiteboard and started sketching on it. While he did, Shamu sat down with a laptop he'd grabbed from the office. He opened it and waited a few seconds before he started typing away. Santosh noted that Sharky was sketching out the shapes of different aircraft. It seemed less like it was going to be a debriefing on the flight, and more a general discussion on tactics.

"Okay, we'll save those for later when we break it down on the ACM, but first let's go over the flight, namely the patrol along the border. Takeoff was good and so was the meetup." He began.

It wasn't very different from what Santosh was used to, but he still listened. The otherwise plain-looking 26 year-old pilot had learned that the man at the front of the room respected you based on your attitude. He was blunt, well-educated and had a list of his own rules that you had to at least be aware of to get him to take you seriously. He called them his "Rules of the Ocean", probably based on his professed expertise in anti-ship work. Santosh had taken that and used it as a means for proving to the man that he had something. It was a begrudging respect that ran the line between disdain and understanding. His WSO was a bit more hard-headed, less impressed by the instructor's attitude. Sharky didn't usually indulge the man's outlook; instead he seemed to use Joshi's points to further the discussion.

Sharky saw it as a fairly typical debrief that let him do his secondary job of teaching. The two intel types said little, explaining that the data from the planes' radars gave them all they needed to know. Santosh listened, and so did Joshi, despite his differing opinions. To Sharky that was progress enough. He'd been here for five months of what was slated to be a yearlong rotation advising the ChRAF. It was the typical line of work for the division he oversaw outside of aggressor work for their home country and being a reserved unit for the OAF's domestic air defense needs. The country had been investing heavily in its armed forces, which included the procurement of a solid inventory of combat aircraft. Sharky hesitated to say modern; the F-72 was modern, but the E-model Typhoons that made up the bulk of their fighter force were not aircraft he was a fan of. He wasn't in charge of their procurement, and they weren't obligated to listen to him. He hoped they knew what they were doing.

When he was done, he retreated to his office to give his boss a ring. The ChRAF had provided him with his own office, desk and chair. It was very basic, but he had made it something of a home. He had his squadron's flag and a jolly roger flag on the walls across from his desk and one of his many aircraft models sitting on a corner of his desk. He sat back in his chair and looked at the digital picture frame on the other corner. As it went through the images uploaded to it, he looked at his computer and reached to wake it up.

"Check email." He ordered.

The AI pulled up a window and he typed in his password to access the server. The inbox was filled with the usual lineup of work emails mixed with messages from the family. He was happy to see an email from his daughter, Kayla, and one from Gale. He opened the two in separate tabs, then opened a locked drawer to withdraw a smartphone from it. He went down the contacts list to "Mister Clark", the Chief Operations Officer of Rosenthal. He pressed "call" and put the device to his ear. The machine secured an encrypted connection, then relayed the call across the world to an office building outside Oured proper.

"Sharky, nice of you to call me." A familiar voice said.

"Well you do sign the paychecks, Mister C. What can I do for you?" Sharky replied.

"Well, possibly something related to the longevity of our contract with the Chakari military."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've been speaking with Defense Minister Nakesh and he's stated he's interested in extending and expanding our contract. Namely, he wants us to spend a few years as part of the country's air force."

"That's definitely good news. What prompted the change?"

"That new base the Eruseans have, he's very interested in seeing us stay there until he's confident their armed forces are at the level of readiness he wants."

"...And Wade-McAvery's impact on it?"

"I wouldn't be talking to you about it if it wasn't something we could get away with, Sharkman. I'm going to keep making damn sure we don't have another Anea ever again. There's still plenty of details to go over, so don't get too excited. Don't worry, though; Osea backs the Chakaris and they wanna keep Erusea's influence at bay like anyone else."

"Do you at least have a timeframe? That official?"

"A total of three years right now. I'm calling you before making an official offer because I know you'd wanna let it rot in your mind. And weigh how to bring it up with Gale if she and the rotary guys don't head out that way."

"Oooh, a timeshare? I didn't know the company was offering such a package."

"Hey hey remember who you're talking to."

"Yes sir, and thank you for the heads up. Definitely gonna want some time to dwell on this."

"I figured as much. All the usual questions about how the mission is going I'll read about in the weekly email. Gale and Kayla doing good?"

"You know Gale when I'm gone a long time, but Kayla's her prodigal self at college. I swear she's either gonna go straight to us or start her own outfit."

"Ha! I'll make sure she rolls with us if she's as good as you're hinting. But I digress, and I'll get back to you when I have more information and an official offer regarding this matter. Have an excellent day, er, evening, Sharky."

"You too, sir."

Sharky hung up and sat back in his chair again. He was almost immediately thinking about it, but he needed some proper thinking music.

"Computer, play my usual list." He said.

"Playing the usual, sir." A voice not too unlike Alfred Pennyworth's replied. Alestorm was on a few seconds later as he easily slid into a more pensive state…

Annie sat back against the wall the bunks were up against and stretched her arms out ahead of her. She reached back and undid the bun she'd had her hair up in all day and shook her raven lochs free. A long, happy sigh escaped her lips as she let the workday fade into memory. Her roommate, Yuki, came ambling in a few seconds later. Annie only gave her a polite "good afternoon", which the woman responded to with a smile and a wave. It was only their second day living as such and despite having been in the squadron a few months more, she didn't exactly see Yuki as a close confidant. She was definitely someone she wouldn't mind being friendlier with, though. Once the woman was out of her flight suit and boots, she plopped back in the desk's chair and spun around, leaning back and expertly placing her feet atop a safe next to the bunks.

"Alright Tsun-Tsun, we're gonna be sharing space the next six months and I like to get to know my bunkmates." She announced. Annie maintained a polite smile and waved a hand back and forth.

"I would prefer Annie, or Anjali...more the former. Hate that callsign, in all honesty."

"We all hate our callsigns; it's the nature of the beast."

"Yes but Tsun-Tsun feels so...I don't know. Maybe still too formal? Funny coming from a Royal Navy pilot yes, but that's the best way I can put it."

"Okay fair, but forgive me in advance that I'll probably say Tsun-Tsun out of habit. Especially when we're at work. Here, your real name goes away unless it's official business or really, REALLY important."

"That's fine, just know I prefer Annie in more casual settings."

"Alright. So, Annie, is there anything I should know about sharing space with you? I imagine we both have a very strong sense of pride in making sure this place stays neat and tidy."

"Oh absolutely. And if we have to eat in here, don't you dare use the wrong spoon to stir the cream into the tea, you hear?"

Yuki snorted in surprise and took a minute to regain herself.

"That's the first time I've heard you make a joke...I think."

"Likely, but I imagine we have very similar definitions of cleanliness. I do admit I'm still integrating into the squadron. I'm certainly an outsider, even though in the FAA we have just as much connection to our unit history as you do in VF-34."

"You'll certainly learn alot about the Daredevils. Cruises are a good way to build unit cohesion and grow closer with your fellow flyers. What unit in the Royal Navy did you come from?"

Annie smiled with a certain amount of professional pride.

"Came from 714 Naval Air Squadron. Flies Lightning FA.2s out of Loringsbee."

"That's the Lenish name for the F-35, right? Why go from JSFs to Hellcats?"

"I was given a choice, and like many career officers I was looking to expand my abilities and understanding. Going straight to Osean Lightnings would've deprived me of the opportunity to learn."

"Learn what?"

"Osean tactics and, though I may not fly it for long, working with a bigger jet. The F-24 is a wholly different machine than the F-35, both in terms of how it handles and what missions it performs. I can't break it down into good and bad, but comparison is inevitable when you go from a small, single-engine strike-fighter to a larger, twin-engined fighter. Not sure calling it a strike-fighter would be an accurate description, regardless of how it's applied."

"As you can tell we are able to move mud, but it isn't our primary job. Our own JSFs carry out that duty alongside our Dauntless IIs. In turn, we defend them and other assets used to hit targets."

"Aboard the Prince of Northton we carry much of the attack and fighter duties. The other half of the air group is dedicated to supporting that mission."

"So you'll find you're flying in a very different environment."

"As I suspected."

"Well your wingman gives you a decent amount of edge. He's in charge of maintaining and keeping track of the F-24's NATOPS manual for the squadron. Nevermind the fact that he's already crazy for aircraft; he's got it in his blood but don't tell him I said that."

Annie tilted her head in confusion and cocked a brow.

"Is there anything I need to know in particular...besides his penchant for chasing girls twice his age?" She asked.

Yuki shrugged. Oh she knew plenty, but to her that wasn't the same as the two of them actually establishing a friendship.

"Talk to him. You're gonna be flying together, so hear it from the man himself."

"But is there anything I should know up front about him before I pursue that avenue?"

Yuki paused for a minute, then sat back and thought on that matter. Annie waited patiently, then tensed a bit as Yuki offered a question of her own.

"Well, what do you think of him?" She mentioned. Annie shrugged as she recalled what interactions she had. She also thought up a good, innocent answer to use.

"Personally? A bit odd but in an amusing kind of way. Could certainly do without his womanizing. That time you asked me to get him to help bail Brick out of being stuck all the way in Redmill? He answered the door in his shorts cause he was in the middle of a fling with some cougar of a bird."

Not that the view he gave was terrible, an errant voice in her head suggested.

"Yeah he certainly is girl crazy, but the Navy can't do much to dictate that part of him. Anyways he's got plenty more; helps that he wears it on his sleeve sometimes. One thing I'll say up front about him? He is very, very defensive about his pre-Navy life. For a brief time I had to wonder if he had anything before this...I think it has to do with his old man and great grandpa being war heroes. Each generation in families like that always gets to live in the shadow of the one before em. Seems like that shadow gets bigger and bigger."

Yuki grimaced and tried to act as sympathetic to Annie on the matter as she could, but her roommate was quick to assure her that she knew how to respect boundaries. Besides, this was a professional thing. No need to try and learn his life story.

"But first, a very important question." Yuki said. Annie looked at the woman and cocked a brow.

"What kind of music you into, Tsun-Tsun?"

Yuki, on the other hand, might actually become a friend.