NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:
If anyone wishes, they can request to be a side, but you must have AIM and follow my story line. I am trying to give off what happened in Sparty Island Chain War IV and I need someone to be Yuktobonia, the 5th Escort Wing, and the Truitti Liberation Sect. Yuktobonia is explainned, the 5th Escort Wing will come in chapter 4, and the Truitti Liberation Sect, or the TLS, is a terrorist group, of which their origin and connection with the 5th Escort Wing will be explainned later in chapter 14 or 15. Hopefully you all will enjoy this, I kinda stole some ideas from a few games, along with the storyline, and for those that know what game I am talking about, you know what happens so don't ruin it!
Comments are accepted, and are greatly requested.
IC:


The year, is 2005. Truitt and its neighbor in the Sparty Island Chain deep in the Pacific Ocean, Yuktobonia, are on the brink of war.
Yuktobonia has invaded and annexed the remains of Driggerville, the nation Truitt broke from for independance. Their imperialistic views are now set on Truitt, which has downsized their military and civil defence due to the Farway Pact, which also limited Truitt's abilities to have a surface navy above light patrol forces.

As each independant island, one by one, falls back into the Yuktobonian orbit, Truitt is called to stop the deadly force, as international nations deny the existance of such genocide that has come and gone in the islands for so long.

This story does not begin with how Yuktobonia started a large-scale invasion of Truitt, but how the Yukean Navy made a mistake, and warnned the in-denile politicans in Truitt's Federal Council, which might not have happened if a future presidente had not given an order that could mean his death.


Chapter One "A Squadron That Saw Nothing"

No one knew eachother's first or last names. It was agenst the Civil Privacy Code of the Armed Forces. Only nicknames and callsigns were issued. This made the battlefield confusing, as many nicknames were said to four or five others in a single division.
The lucky thing was the only thing not changed by the Farway Pact was the Truitti Federal Air Force, or the TFAF. It only consisted of 2,000 planes, which only half of that were combat trainned, and the rest were just reserve pilots that could barely fly. Only 1,000 trainned men and women, of which only one was combat experianced. His name was just "Wings."
He was rescued by the island's squadron's captain, "Heatseeker." They were downned pilots in the same squadron once in the Sparty Island Chain War III that happened four years ago.
They were shot down, but Heatseeker led Wings to the Truitti border of the now capital of the Sparty Island Territories of Truitt, Sapphire Island. They were not only leaving by the Yuktobonians, but Wings was an ex-leader of the Driggerville Ace Squadron, nicknamed the Blue Dogs.
That was the past, and had nothing to do with the island that was so far away from the three islands Truitt owned. The three out of fifty-something that were in the whole chain. But, one of the small uncounted islands that were not even on the maps was Sand Island. Named becouse it was made entirely of sand.
It would have made a fair navy base, but the navy was almost dead, being restricted to submercipal boats. So, the airforce made a small base, one that had a single runway, enough storage for twenty fighters and two large bombers, and room for bunks and a command tower. Nothing much. It did stand outside the combat radius of Sapphire Plots, a three-island triangle that was connected by artifical land bridges created from floating material bolted down. It was the most northern possition in the Pacific that Truitt held. It would also make a good target for the imperial Yuktobonian Armed Forces, or the YAF.

Sand Island Squadron - Jeww

It was early in the day. Spring. It was nice down south. Warm, sunny, slightly windy, and as clear as a mystical story. The day was perfect, at least it was.

We were ordered to go on a little mission just at the edge of our island's combat radius. Some civilian liner reported a flat-deck ship, probably an escort carrier, launching some aircraft off and they were heading into mainland Sapphire Plots.
No one cared, Yuktobonia would not attack us. We had a larger army than they did, and a larger airforce. They had all the odds agenst them. A slight carrier mission was probably becouse they wanted to test a new UAV, or Unmanned Air Vehicle.
Ironically enough, we were ordered to shoot them down. It would not start a war, but maybe a small fiasco with politicans. So, I sat. In the Rec Room, reading a book. The Raptior, a proclaimmed bird like a phoenix but larger and more deadly, and about how a boy became one himself. I found it wierd that our very capital back in the Emerald Isles in the Atlantic was named Raptior.

I walked out of the Rec Room, which was empty. I sat down the book, on page four, ontop of the table. The only other person there was an Armed Forces Media Ranger, or a person who took photos and submitted them to the media.
His name was just Glass, becouse of his large camera he always carried that had to be outdated. He had a bird's nose, much like everyone else of Truitti decent, and was pale, something rare of a local, even in the Pacific where Vietamese influence dominates. He was looking a strip of negatives, probably of when captain let him in a trainner and flew him around a few days ago.
He smiled at me as I walked out of the room to the wide hallway that was barely lighted. My Dickies pants and rocker-sleeve shirt flowed in the air that came from the window on the other side of the hallway, were I was heading. The day was calling me, wanting me, needing me to fly.

There, I saw three others. A great, broud, strong, handsome man that was our captain. The other man there was Fireball, my wingman, and a great person if you got a digital missle on your tail. Yeah, I have never been in combat. The only one was captain, and he never talked about what happened before the war ended. Last, but not least, was Twitch. She was the only woman I knew that was in the military next to technical engineers in the hangers.
"Hey, Jeww. I take it you're ready to suit up?" Asked Fireball as I cleared my throat to attract the attention of the three looking out of the window at the oddly enough calm ocean. "Yeah, we should get going before the macks get to our planes and mess with the systems." Twitch said, sounding like a baby, and smiling. It was odd that she smiled, she was always serious in the air and durring briefings.

We walked down the taxiway, my long hair flying to my left with Twitch's. I was always mistaken as a woman, even if my age was 15. We were all young, me being the youngest. Next was Fireball, who I knew before we enlisted. We practically grew up together and by request, we joinned the same squadron. We were only three months apart. Twitch was, from me guessing, 18, but I never asked. It would confuse work with private life. Everyone knew captain's age, though. He was at a solid 21, but looked 19.
We walked, all of us with dark brown hair, normal for our origin, side by side down the road-like way. It was hit with black marks of tire treads. We would get so bored that we would grab Fireball's '65 Ford Mustang and show some tricks, same with my '74 Ford, which was my baby next to my private fighter. Since the airforce was downsized agian last year, they let us customize the cockpits and systems to give it our own personalized views.

After arriving at Hanger D, where the combat aircraft were held, the micks, or mechanics, were already working on the weapons loads. "Hey, what the Hell are you four doing?" Demanded our captain as one of the micks came up from inside the left tailpipe of his Cockatiel.
The men, surprised by how fast the captain got up there so quietly and his demands over their own authority, just said "We are cleanning it." The captain grabbed the man who still had half of his body in the tailpipe by the shirt, ripped out of the hole, and threw him from the top stand to the floor, probably dislocating his shoulder.
"Ohh, now, yo' gonna die!" Twitch screamed as she saw men comming out of her cockpit and weapon's stores compartments. Although it was the mechanic's jobs, we did not like them working beyond the gear and weapons loading. Nothing would go wrong unless it was man-done.
I looked over just in time as a few mechanics came from Fireball's aircraft after just openning the cockpit, obviously his bird and my own were not yet tampered with. "Fine, fine, we loaded up your stores anyways Heatseeker, everyone else is still full. Fuel was also added, and we fixed a gear strut problem on Ms. Twitch's left main. Gew'day." Said a Spartean dialect mick as he motioned for everyone to leave.
I was happy they did not touch my bird, last time they forgot to turn off the Master Switch and when I went to turn it on, I freaked out and almost forgot to pull back the throttle, which was set on 100 Forward.

We went through our pre-flight checks fairly quickly. "Left trailling edge.....left alieron......left flap.....left vertical action flap.....cawling inclosed.....oil pressure mid-green......I think I got it all." I said after going through the order at which we all memorized. "Yeah got the front gear line?" Asked Fireball as he checked his own. "Yep." I replied. "How about the inflation screen on the radome?" I looked at it and noticed I had reangled it. "Check."
He looked over as he finished with his radome check and said "Lets go."

We did not suit up, we wore civilian clothes. The masks and helmets were already in the cockpit, but the suit was needed only if we were leaving the combat radius. It was not dangerous, but it could be an annoyance if you get shot down and all you got is a parachute attached to your back. That was not a problem, we had nothing to get shot down over.

After all four of us finished, with captain and Twitch leading the way, we slowly pushed the throttle to 5 Forward to get the aircraft to start her roll, than lowered to 2 Forward to keep a brisk walking pace. We left Hanger D, and becouse it was udnerstood and no threat of other air traffic, we did not communicate with Sand Island Traffic.
"Alright everyone, when I say mark, we push twenty five vertical." Commanded the captain as we lined up on the taxiway. That was something good that was unique about the TyH-58 Cockatiel, it was fast and manuverable, and could fly vertically.
I changed the selecter from Forward to Vertical and pushed in 15, the revving speed for a slow vertical take-off. "Mark." He said as I pushed it to 25 and rose up as everyone else did. The wings digitally stayed stable, and a small weight was felt all over my body. I loved the feeling, but it was more enjoyable to take-off from a carrier. If you have not done so and you fly, you have not lived.

We quickly changed to Forward and began to fly to our north, north west, at mach 1.35, our supercruise's highest speed. We were flying at 8,000 feet above sea level and were not worried if they deteched us, expecially becouse the Yuke Standerd Radar, the Yk8DRADSON, could not pick us up.
An easy mission. A 95% NonArmed Rate was expected for the entire deployed group, which ment it was the easiest mission in the world.

"Target Practice"

We quickly made our way to the UAVs who were litterly on a straight lined path back to the carrier which was now identified as a modified San Antonio-class Amphibious Command Ship. The UAVs were flying in an almost-perfect line to the carrier, elevan UAVs in all. Just as many missles as everyone had stored due to budget cuts.
"Hey, you guys mind a little target practice?" I asked as I took the lead infront of Fireball who was behind Twitch. Infront of me was captain, as proud as ever in his bird. "Why the Hell not? Everyone, line up and engage at will durring mark." Said the captain laughing.
We quickly accelerated to form a line, heading on a dead-on cource to the drone aircraft. "Mark." He said with a sarcastic tone. We all broke, and I pushed my throttle 100 Forward. It seemed me and captain were neck-in-neck. I looked to my right and he looked to his left. I could tell our eyes met, even with the dark green glass infront of our faces.
We stared eachother down until I heard the unique ring of the Missle Locking System automatically select the nearest drone. I knew captain would select the secound. I waited, and than the ring turnned to a medium-pitched hum. I yelled "Block One!" Into my transiver as the internal missle dropped, and after half a secound of connecting with the many satellites in orbit, flew at mach 3 speeds at the drone. All the while looking at my captain.
It blew to tiny bits and was unarmed. I felt kinda sorry for the people who wroked so hard to make such a small little bird. The explosion was like from a movie. A large yellow and orange ball with pikes flying out, some black shards, and a trail of gray smoke from the TALM-50A Vallassa Missle I launched.
Captain soon firred and hit the secound with a small monotone report of "Block One." We were far ahead of the others, both going at 100 Forward and at a steady slight decend becouse the UAV's got lower as we went. After he firred my Missle Lock System targtted the third drone. It was closer, they were getting closer and closer together. I firred after yelling "Block Two."
This missle hit with a slightly more closer explosion, and made we want to bank away from the blast. I guessed I would have to trust the micks when we get back home.

By the time the eighth drone was hit by captain, Fireball and Twitch had caught up and we let them shoot some down. They needed the kill records, not us. It made me think though, if I would really shoot at a real person. "Jeww, would you shoot down a piloted bird like you were doing earlier?" Asked Twitch.
I did not know. I had only been in simulaters and three escort missions with this recon. I had no other actual "combat," if you would call it that, experiance at all. It did make me think, and was why I did not take the last kill.
I got shook out of my trance of thought when I heard the Radar Warnning Signal I knew so well through trainning missions. "What the fuck?" I exclaimmed not thinking. I usually would never curce, and if I did, I would usually "sensor" myself.
"I don't know, it just came up! It there any enemy aircraft on their way?" Asked Twitch confused and surprised. "None on my radar, wait, could it be the ship?" Asked Fireball going into a bank to come to me, which I would not stop my turnning for fear of a missle comming at me. No one would stop banking. "Wait, a flame on my IR Seeker, it is from the surface.....the Ship!" Yelled the captain as Fireball yelled "I got a missle on my tail!"
We all went in panic, I for one almost froze. I was quickly shocken out of it when I heard the captain's voice agian. "Damn you! Get over here and don't stop turnning! You can do this!"
The captain started heading towards Fireball, who was turnning violently. He was not using even the basic evading manuvers. "Damn it, learn to fly next time!" Yelled the captain as he passed Fireball's tail and went inbetween the missle and him just as he turnned off his Coolant System. I could tell becouse the exhust turnned from a glaze to black.
The missle started comming for him, even after he activated the Coolant System. He made some beautiful and perfect manuvers, but he could not shake it.

I just happened to turn in time to see it. The missle came in and hit right where the mick was, like it flew into it than blew. The good thing was I saw a puff of white smoke and a portion of the inner nose fly out form the body. The Xerocraft that was in every Truitti fighter.
"You alright captain?" We all asked as we saw the Xerocraft was flying straight and level. "Yeah, but..." He began. I noticed the Xerocraft was losing altitude. "The engine will not activate. It was probably damaged when the missle hit. They are hooked up to the same electrical system, you know?" He made a smile we all saw.
"It was the micks, dirty italians doing all the rough work no one wants." I said smiling to myself. I heard him make a small crackle of a chuckle that the microphone activated for. "Well, the planes are expendable, right?" He said. It was his motto. The life of a single pilot is worth the wings of the whole Federal Fighter Wing.
"Well, I should go ahead and deploy the inflation system. I am less than fifty feet up." He said as a yellow contraption flew from under the wings and he dropped. We all waited for the thing to calm on the flat ocean surface to ask, which was by Twitch, "Do you want us to hover and pick you up?"
"No, we are far enough from the ship and close enough to the shore that I should roll in with the tide by tommarow, or hopfully, a rescue choper can come in and pick me up."

"Fairwell, for now." He said as we heard the microphone turn off to conserve power for the beacon that had activated as he landed. We left, full acceleration and silent, wondering. Where was that ship from?

Sand Island - Glass

I looked out my window just three hours after the squadron had left. As I usually did I counted the planes as they landed conventionally. One. Two. Three. And....the fourth had not landed. Confused, and wondering if he was sent to an other island or mission, I went up to the only woman, who was just a girl. I knew her only as Twitch, I could tell you how she got her name.
One time in a simulater with Heatseeker, their captain, she was extremely twitchy and oftenly firred randomly hoping that Heatseeker would fly right infront of her. One time he did and she was ready. That how they say she got her name, while Fireball is becouse he firred a missle into a zepplin and it blew into a massive fireball. Heatseeker got his becouse he never used radar-guided missles, only heat seekers becouse to him they were less likely to fall for a decoy. Jeww got his becouse he was not jewish, but a christian boy who had a pracular interest in the judism faith. They say Fireball gave it to him, but I could not say that as a fact.

Twitch walked into the Rec Room, the only place out of my own building, the Civil Contact Structure, that I could go. Her beauty filled the room and lit it up. Her amazing grace and wonderous curves nearly knocked me dead every time I saw her.

She walked in, nodding at me, and looking fairly disapointed for some reason, I did not ask her why the captain had not returnned. She picked up The Raptior, Jeww's, and began looking at it. Not reading it. Her eyes stood still, and a slight shine of reflection form the window came out, she had a tear.
"What's wrong, if I may ask?" I asked her in Commin, the main tounge of Truitt. She looked at me and smiled. She took in a small breath, and replied back. Instead of Commin, she did so in Spanish. "The captain got shot down, but he is O.K. A rescue team should be going there by this evenning to pick him up." To pass Grade School, you had to be able to speack the four mandatory languages. English, Commin, Spanish, and Italian. Probably becouse of the different islands in the Emerald Isles in the Atlantic all had those origins. English, Romanian, Mexican, and Italian.
I decided to change the language to English, since she was from Capitallia, as I myself was. "Well, cheer up. He will be here by the time the helo team gets off the ground." She smiled at me and looked at the door as the Squadron Commander, a fat chubby man by the name of Screech, which showed in his nose-talking voice that I hated so, called for the squadron. Obviously Jeww and Fireball were playing a prank or setting his papers on fire agian.
She nodded and flicked with her right hand, the Devil Horns. The sign meanning in Commin Code from that language "I will be back soon enough."

I watched her walk out. Her beauty, and I will hate to say this so openly, but her sertain areas, made me want to follow her and plee to every bit of her foolish whelms. I shook my head and looked back down at what was in my lap. A half-assembled Crank Lense that went to my new digital camera I recived just that afternoon.

Sand Island Command Tower - Fireball

Screech, the fat idiot commander of our squadron, had called us to his room. We got right in when the door slammed shut. Jeww and myself, being one of the few pilots trainned in SpecOps pulled out our dual pistols which were all customly rendered by a federal italian company.
The man who had shut the door was wearing an all-black suit with a black tie. He had on black kahcis that had matching black socks. His face was of mexican origin, from North Point or Capitallia. "Please, the three of you, have a seat." He said in a acsent that I had heard before. It was one that the Sapphire, mainly vietamese, english people spoke. It was very disinct in the pronousing of the vowels more stressly and more profound and upper classee.
The three of us sat, Twitch last. It was understood she was the new wing flight lead, since she was the wingmate of the captain. "You are Sauders's Wingmate than?" The Black Suit asked. She looked at him oddly and than got who he was. "Sauders, the captain? Yes, I am."
The Black Suit turnned and looked at me and Fireball. Studying us for a few secounds with a moment of silence, and than, obviously unapproved of, he began to speack to her. "Captain Sauders, he was shot down by a Yuktobonian Amphibious Assualt Ship that was designned to house recon drone craft. The surface ship shot at him, and he was not able to lose the missle. It hit, and he had saved himself by releasing the Xerocraft Mechanism, which also failed. From what I heard from this lard ass over here, he deployed his floatation device, meanning he is still alive. Is this all confirmed?"
Twitch thought for a few secounds. She was expecting Screech to get up and knock out the agent, but he kept his ground and sat there, staring at a picture of his wife and one boy. "Confirmed. May I like the modify that report slighty, sir." She asked, using the proper military form. "You may as it pretains to the said argument." He responded in form agian. "I was the one who had the missle tracked and firred at. He hooked it onto his own aircraft and took the fall." She stood her ground, with myself, the commander, and Fireball staring at her and the agent.
That was big, letting a comrade take your hit. It was called being a wuss in lamen's terms, and could mean your imprisionment. "That was noted in the report." He said blankly. "May I ask a query on the report?" She asked, following the form. "You may."
"What will happen to someone if what happened to them happened to I." She said staying to the book and not referring to anyone but herself in specifics.
"One would not be punished, as greater things are on their way. That is all. Dismissed." He ordered as the door flung open as an other Black Suit came in. "Also, not a word to what happened is to be said past these doors. If anyone asks, you went on the mission, saw the ship, and left. Captain Sauders was rerouted to Pearl Island due to their need of a combat-experianced pilot to train a new recruit."
We nodded in acknowledgment and left.

"The FIA are here, that means this is big. Do you guys think the Yukes have finally got up the nerves to attack us?" Asked Jeww as we entered the Rec Room, and oddly enough, not a soul was to be found. "Well, since the FIA is involved, it means the people in Presence Tower are still in denile." I snapped back. I hated war, and that the politicians in our capital was in denile of such a thing. If the Federali Investigation Agency was here, than it had to be bad.

Chapter Two "Northern Plots"

Sand Island - Jeww

We were notified that when the resuce choper got there, he was nowhere to be seen. The vessel had left, along with all signs of the captain. We all were disapointed and agervated. Originally, I cheered up the other two by saying that he probably did something marvelous and made a boat to get here and he was on his way. I myself was convensed, until the next day came. And than the next, and than, a week.
A week had past, and we heard nothing. We were flying normal flights, nothing added. It was just a normal day, a Monday, oh how I hate them, and the commander said we would take off a little earlier than usual and fly to the Northern Plots, a small bit of industrial islands based in the north of the Sapphire Plots.
He tould us to meet him in the Briefing Hall at 1100 hours zulu, sharp.

I made my way down to the hall and was stopped by Twitch. She was outside with Fireball nowhere to be seen. "I overheard a Black Suit and Screech talking. There is a spy plane that was damaged by the Aden and is trying to escape from a picket submarine's radar."
Her expression was detemined at first, but changed to near tears. "I don't want to lose an other flight lead." A small drop of water came from her puffed up eyes that was red and saggy from lack of sleep. A tear ran down her left cheek, and I, being like a brother to her since she first joinned, whiped it off by my thumb with a solid, soft sweep.
"They are going to put you as lead. You should be glad." I said trying to reasure her as she looked up, holding my arm I used to whipe her cheek. "I know. But I don't want to. I want you to." She she studdered inbetween deep breaths. She was on the brink of breaking out and sobbing madly right here, in the hallway.
"Lets go listen to the piggy and see what he wants us to do exactly. And I'll be the lead, and it is hard to kill a jew, remember?" I asked her with an inside joke. She smiled. "The arabians and germans tried but all they did was piss 'em off." She cracked a small, weak, but good enough for me chuckle.

We walked into the Briefing Hall where Screech and three Black Suits were standing. He stood tall and was one of the fattest people I knew. "Welcome, I would like to congratulate Senior Wingmate Carly Snyder on her new promotion, with the rest of you, and her taking of the wing's lead fighter." Said a Black Suit in a Portshirean acsent that was so thick it mad me want to ask him "What?"
She stood up and said blankly, a little quever in her voice, "Jeww is taking that possition." She sat down. The Black Suit looked at both of us. He did not know our callsigns. "Jeww." He said looking at Fireball and I stood up. "Yes, sir." I said, than sitting back.
He acknowledged me and began, mostly looking at me for being the lead and being the commander of the other two. "You will be performing a basic make-have operation. You will go to the target, an identified U-2 Spyplane, and force it to land on one of the three runways that are located in its flight path. We expect your time being there will be in two and one half hours from launch, so we have plotted out the runways and all information to your systems."
He looked around, looking for any comments. I had one, so I asked "Do we shoot it down after it passes the last runway?" He smiled. "If it does not turn around or give a good reason, than yes. Since it is damaged, a single shot should sink it. Further information is not given on its status, except we do know it is below ten thousand feet, meaning the cabin pressure is gone.
"I am sure everyone here knows what that means; it can't manuver well." He looked back at me, seeing if it answered my question. "What if some party-poopers come in. Do we engage?" His eyebrow flew up as he asked "Are you expecting any?" Feeling blamed for something I did not do, I simply said in a defencive tone "No, just wondering. Like if there is a ship down there and shoots at us or anything."
When I finished I heard Twitch give a small squeek she oftenly made by accident when she felt realy good, or really bad. I think it was the memory of captain that made her do it. "Engage if engaged." The Black Suit said in a monotone after leaving with the other two men. "Review the battle field and you have clearance for take-off. No traffic is expected. Preflights are already done."

I did not care to see the hologram of the map, I wanted to know what the Hell they did to my plane. We quickly rushed out after a minute to make sure they were not around, and walked briskly to Hanger D. There, our aircraft sat. Nothing different or moved. Being the good pilots we are, we checked all the preflight checks personally, never trust a Mick.

Northern Plots - Fireball

We made our way at 11,000 feet to the target, who was flying a little faster than first expected so we had to fly higher for less air so we would not consume too much fuel. We were mainly quiet so I decided to make it more interesting with some music before Jeww did. Me and him were big rivals. He liked mainly AC/DC and I liked mainly Areosmith. We both liked other great bands like Nirvana, Metallica, and Led Zepplin, but those were the bands we fought for.
I switched on the MusicNOW Program on my Cockpit Systems Managment Computer and selected TRACKs, ROCK, Areosmith, and than, with my finger, Walk This Way.
"Hell yeah!" Yelled Jeww as he pushed the throttle forward with me on his left wing. Twitch was across from me on his right wing. We were flying dangerously close, but we were trainned by the best pilot in the world.

As the track went through and Show Down in Flames came on, the U-2 hit our visual gazes. We quickly slowed as I got above it, to where I could only see it by my internal IR sensor for if I was a light bomber. Jeww was infront of it with Twitch behind it.

Out on the town
Lookin' for a woman
Gonna give me good love
Anybody wanna hand off me
And give me plenty of
She was standin' alone
Over by the juke box
Like she'd something to sell
I said baby what's the goin' price
She told me to go to hell


"Unidentified Aircraft, land at the following barrings. One Eight Zero Point Niner Three. Show an obvious signal if you udnerstand." Jeww sauid sounding like an aircraft traffic controller over the International Communications Line, which all other lines picked up automatically.
Shot down in flames
Shot down in flames
Ain't it a shame
To be shot down in flames


No reply. "Hey, try agian." Twitch suggested. I had done started going through my playlists for an other song to fit this occasion.

Singles bar
Got my eye on a honey
Hangin' out everywhere
She might be stright
She might want my money
I really don't care
Said baby, you're drivin' me crazy
Laid it right on the line
When a guy with a
Chip on his shoulder said
Toss off buddy she's mine


Jeww tried agian and again, and after the fifth time he suggested "Why not just shoot a few rounds through it? Maybe that'll get his attention." We all laughed, even he did. "Hmm, that's interesting." He said over the line right as we passed the secound island that had a runway.
"Hm?" Mumbled Twitch. I than picked up two green blots on my radar screen. "Ohh, that intersting." I said as Twitch soon relized what we were looking at in our cockpits. "They seem to be two, no, three, four! Four medium-sized fighters. Systems have yet to designate them." Twitch reported. "Breaking." Jeww said flying up to my altitude and getting right to my two o'clock.

I heard a missle warnning just as Black Sabbath's War Pigs came on with an invasion siren in the background. I had to think before I noticed it was the music.

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of death's construction

We all formmed a wing-shape and flew straight towards them. More than likely they could detect the U-2, but we would be small on their radars. "Designation completed. MiG 1.44s, all four!" Reported Jeww as my information loaded up. MiG 1.44s? The Yukes did not have them, a few asian powers did from Russia, but not the Yuktobonians.


In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh Lord yeah


"Break!" Yelled Jeww breaking off as we all did, flying alone. I got a missle lock, but no warnning. No one got a warnning but a lock. We quickly started to perform our own manuvers to avoid the radars, but they had simular G-limits as the Cockatiels we flew in, so it was all in the skill of the pilot now.

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight
They leave that all to the poor


"Engage!" Commanded Jeww a few secounds before yelling "Shards!" He firred his rear-mounted gun at the closing in MiG behind him and he had to hit the cockpit becouse it started to nose dive. "I got him, dang, lost it!" Yelled Twitch. Jeww was being tracked by two, and myself and Twitch being tracked by one. They seemed to know he was the lead.

Now in darkness world stops turning
As the war machine keeps burning
No more war pigs have the power
Hand of God has struck the hour


"Missle!" Yelled Twitch as her target fired one at Jeww. "Screw regulations, Block One!" She yelled within gun range. If it was one thing they tought you in dogfight trainning was not to fire a missle within gun range becouse it could blow too close to you and cause your own death.

Day of judgment God is calling
On their knees, the war pigs crawling
Begging mercy for their sins
Satan laughing spreads his wings
Oh Lord yeah
She broke out of the way to avoid running into the blast just in time. The missle firred at Jeww deactivated and blew in mid-air as the host MiG did so, it had to be aircraft radar-guided. I looked my enemy MiG in the sights and firred, which the report screen on my headset blinked [HIT], but I saw no shrapenal or signs of damage.

I continued to fight as Twitch and Jeww were occupied by a single MiG, the lead. I saw the MiG, this time farther away and ignorantly banking right in my gun's sights. I quickly activated the gun to come out of the nose and just as if by a strange luck of fait, it firred on accident as the canopy of the fighter flew inbetween me and the open sky.
A direct hit, right in the cockpit and inbetween the two engines. It started to spin out of control and rammed into the ocean's now-rough seas. "Splash!" I yelled as Twitch and Jeww both firred a missle each at the target, side by side, and hitting the rogue plane. One hit and he started to lose control, and the last sealed his own destiney.
I was surprised, no one ejected. "Hmm, where's the U-2?" I asked looking around for it. "It splashed in the ocean after being hit by my first missle. I did not call it." Jeww said. I know why he did it. He did not want it to get away while he was occupied with the dogfight. "Any injuries?" He asked as we reformmed our formation. "I got a few rounds in my wing, glad I switched to Body Fire after I used up the four missles in the wing, huh?" Twitch said reassuringly. "Luck you, if one of those missles were hit you'd be toast." I said as we pushed to the point right before the sound barrier

Sand Island - Twitch

We returnned, and the Black Suit only wanted to know what happened to the U-2. We tould him, and he nodded. He asked if we had any intruders, we tould him. He nodded again and said "It was expected." I wanted to wale on him right there, why didn't he tell us?

Well, we all made our way to the Rec Room, when Fireball and Jeww turnned around to stop the Micks who went inside the hanger. They were very annoiying.
As I got into the Rec Room, it was empty. I looked over at Jeww's book, The Raptior. I started to read it from where he left it, page 6.

The beast, slain, sunk to the depth of the ocean to die and burn in Hell. As if by a freak twist of destinies, the beast arose eight days later. It was more powerful and stronger than before. It was not the order-taking beast as it once was, but a beast fighting for its own reasons. Its' might and skills are unmatched, where it lives, in the depths of the oceans, to seek revenge, for those who started a conflict between his family, and his lover's.

I smiled and laughed inside. A Romeo and Juliet thing but with monsters who kill and commit genocide. Nice story, one Jeww would read. I was thinking why he had not gotten farther, but I relized they had us in the air so much that the only ground time he had was in his own bed. I know I have it that way.
I put down the book and ontop of it was a triangle, embellished with emeralds. It had a stick on each side, like wings with a dot in the middle. I had seen that symbol before, but I can't say where.

I put my head on the top of the worn-out couch and stretched out my legs like a man would with my arms dropping to my sides like heavy bats. I was beat and ready to sleep right there on the couch, but I got out og it when I heard someone walk in. I turnned my blank gaze from the ceiling to the doorway, where Glass was.
He smiled and sat down. He had in his hand that new camera of his, still in pieces that were collected inside the film compartment. I smiled back. He sat in the recliner across from the couch and began working. I always liked his presence for some reason, he was not exactly the most attractive man I knew, I mean, Jeww beat him big time, but there was something different. Something Jeww, nor any other guy I have met, had.
I wanted him to say something, and right when I gave up and began to fall asleep he said with a humorous voice in Italian "Glad to see yeah back." I smiled. He was the only person that would speak some other language than English here without regret. "Glad to see yeah back." I said mocking him.
He smiled and asked me "So, how are you this fine Monday evenning?" He asked casualy. I was surprised, he never asked me personal questions like that. Few did outside from Heatseeker, Jeww, and Fireball. "I'm doing fine, thanks." I said back smiling, to match his own. "How about you?" He sat down his camera into his lap and said "Better."
We stared and smiled at eachother for a while. It was like we understood everything about the other. Wierd. I can not explain it, even today. I guess there is a word for it, although I doubted it then. Love. I guessed we were just begging to have a partner in these stressful times that we looked at the other as our lifesibling. I was wrong, just in denile.

Jeww and Fireball and came in laughing and holding a Mountain Dew each. Cream Sodas were soemthign they got out of the island, since the vending machine in the bunks had only Pepsi (there were two, of which one had entirely Coca Cola until Jeww blew it up with the vile stuff in it, sparying it everywhere) and a few other small SAM's Club sodas. Mountain Dew and A&W Root Bear were the only other name-brand things there.
I would not be surprised if they had a shot of Crown Royal or Jack Daniels in it. Jeww loved Jack Daniels and scotch, and yet he was such a heavyweight that a whole Jack Daniels bottle was needed to just give him a slight effect. Something medical was the real reason, but I never bothered to ask.

The four of us conversed and soon Wings, being middle aged and sticking out, came in with the new reservest who would be the new defence fighter role. His callsign was Blade, it was the same as my father's durring Sparty Island Chain War II, the one which the Driggerian forces bombed themselves with tatical nuclear bombs to stop the enemy advance.
We had a good time, and for two days we met there. Wings would share war stories, Jeww and Fireball stories about how many stupid things they had done in civilian life, and myself and Blade being quiet. Glass would come in and take pictures to test his camera, all the while looking at the picture with a frown.

We enjoyed the time out of the air, although it took some getting used to. After flying three hours a day if it was a slow day and up to ten on big days, we were not exactly used to life on the ground. We got used to it as paintball took its effect when Jeww had ordered some, without Screech knowing, of cource. We would play on the runway, around the hangers, anywhere. It finally ended on our first tournament when Fireball was being shot at, and trying to get away, rammed into Screech's window.
That was also the end of the ground days, and we were to take to the skies once again the day after to Pearl Island, where our sister squadorn was based.

tag

Chapter Three A "Evacuation"

Mattain Straight; Jeww

The day was dark and gloomy. Rain poored like hail onto my canopy as we flew at low speeds and at low altitudes. Our mission was simple, go to Pearl Island, where our sister squadron and the entire 3rd Spartean Carrier Division was docked, and surfaced. Pearl Island was the lead navy base in the Sparty Island Chain, but it was never modified for dry docks, so the boats had to be surfaced to be serviced. There were only two other carrier divisions, and that made up the entire Spartean Protectorate Fleet.
An other problem was that Pearl Island was surrounded by shallow water. Something rare in this part of the Pacific. The ships would be surfaced for a while until they reached deep enough waters to dive. That ment it was an easy target, and evacuation was a must.
We just entered the combat radius and confirmed our identities when a message came through from the Encoder Box, a system in our cockpits that linked up with any Truitti forces on the ground or in the air on a different frequency. "Supplies are finished, we will prepair for launch."
As we lowered our altitude from 8,000 to 5,000 and slowed from 560 knots to 300 knots, the Pearl Island Squadron came up on radar. "Hello Heatseeker, Twitch, Jeww, and Fireball." Said a familar voice. It was Swordsman, Heatseeker's ex-Wingmate before he got transfered to the new squadron.
I thought for a few secounds of silence and said blankly "Heatseeker is not with us." An other short period of silence and than Swordsman came back on with his deep voice, "Is he injured?" I smiled. "He is fine. We just don't know where he is though." A long period of silence followed. I curced at myself for trying to make a joke out of it.

We circled the carrier division for a while in a slight 20-degree bank continuous. The Pearl Island Squadron was patrolling around the island's radar detection edge to stop any anti-shipping missles that may come if the division is attacked. "Hey, we need to get it up!" I said breaking the silence by going to my music player and pressed Highway to Hell.

It ain't easy
Liven free
Season ticket on a one-way ride
Askin nothing
Let me be
Taking everything in my stride

"Nice song, do you think it is appropriate?" Swordsman asked. "'Cource, what a better way, I mean, the island's outlet looks like a narrow stream from here, a Highway." Twitch said. One of the few jokes I have heard her make in the pilot's seat. "Hm, never looked at it like that. Get a Emeraldian and show a Spartean what rock really is." Swordsman joked with a small chuckle.

Don't need reason
Don't need rain
There ain't nothing I'd rather do
Going down for the time
My friends are gonna be there too

"Shit!" Yelled some pilot I did not know the name to in the Pearl Island Squadron as our Radar Warnning Systems activated and we all got a Friendly Being Engaged message on our helmet-mounted Heads-Up Displays, or HUDs. "Sand Island, continue to protect the division. We got it here, Hick, bank, hard bank right! Hick!" Yelled Sowrdsman as the plane blew in mid-air. "Damnit! Engage at will!" Yelled Swordsman at all the airborne wings in the area, including those onboard the TSSP Rosemary, and surfaced Auburn-class aircraft carrier.

I'm on a Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell

"We can't launch, the decks are too slippy even with the heating vents activated on full. The elevaters will barely operate under these conditions." Reported the Air Control Officer onboard the Rosemary. It was a Flight I, meanning the elevaters were not designned to move if they were wet as a safety feature for submarine operations. "You are the biggest damn ship here! They will target you! Move or launch support!" Yelled Twitch as she broke the formation.

No stop signs, speed limit
Nobody's gonna slow me down
Like a wheel
Gonna spin it
Nobody's gonna mess me round

I admediatly pushed the throttle forward and requested for an advanced scan. Nothing on the tower's radar or sonar. This was odd. "Fireball, break formation to nine o'clock for search-and-scan." I commanded when the radar warnning came back up. Nothign could be seen in the now darker and more cloudy sky. I was relying more on my systems than my sight, nothing you should do as a pilot.

Hey Saten
Paid my dues
I'm in a rockin band
Hey momma!
Look at me
On my way to the promise land

"Missle! Ejecting!" Yelled a pilot that had just vertically launched from the deck of the Rosemary. It was not going fast enough and the missle hit, shooting shards of the once-proud bird ontop of the surfaced carrier. Nothign could be launched now until it was cleaned. I saw no parachute or Xerocraft, the pilot was too late in ejecting. "Damn, find the hostile!" Yelled the General of Squadron Operations on the ground.

Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell
Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell

"We have an anti-shipping missle, comming this way!" Yelled a sonar operator over the line. I admediatly pushed down the nose into a nose-dive. I started shooting right where the missle would pass. I did not take any chances in starting and kept on firring after it had past my line of fire. Rounds hit, did not activate its warhead, but it quickly lost control, flew right over the Rosemary's deck, and into the ocean. It blew inbetween the Rosemary and an other ship I could barely make out as something floating. "Nice shot Jeww!" Yelled Fireball after he had returnned from scanning the area.

Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell
Highway to Hell
I'm on a Highway to Hell

"Fireball, the missle came from the openning of the bay, requesting you to cover me." I said pushing full thrust torwards my front as I barely pulled out of the nose dive. "On your wing, buddy." Fireball said just as I could make out the sound of his engine behind me. I could not see him, but my sensors did.

And I'm goin down
Of the world
I'm on a Highway to Hell

"I don't see a thing, and it couldn't be a sub, wait, a picket sub!" Relized Fireball as I had selected ASW on my selector switch next to the firring trigger on my joystick. "Sono One!" I yelled dropping the only Sonobouy I had requested for the mission. "Splash, and deployed." I reported as the sonobouy released a series of waves.
A small blot showed up over my HUD, in the shape of a hotdog. "I got a twinkie-shaped object just forty nautical miles south west of sonosplah. Requesting hit by attack submarine." I reported with a lsight joke added in. "Twinkie? Ohh, a picket! Denied, the Rosemary is the direct path of the openning. Any aircraft have torpedoes?" Asked the General in Squadron Operations.
"We are launching one as this confirmation is being sent." Confirmed a voice that was probably onboard the Rosemary's deck becouse of the loud roars I heard. "Deploy it to the given coordinates." I said as I sent the coordinates of the "twinkie" to the Rosemary's communications room.

"An other anti-shipping missle!" Reported someone onboard an other ship. "Damnit!" I yelled switching my Pulse Cannon Thrust Modifying System to 9gs+ and on the thrust lever pushed and held the button on the edge. My head flew back and my hands wanted to.
The shear power of that boost was the same as launching from an aircraft carrier. My head felt like it was about to snap as I released the button and a small low-pitched ring bleeped on and than off in my headset saying the aircraft was lowing.
I timmed it just right. I pulled the Emergency Airbrake and Crown Flap right behind the cockpit to slow down the aircraft to stalling speeds. The Crown Flap was why the Cockatiel was named it, the flap looked like the feather on the real bird's head.
The nose went down automatically from loss of lift and I started to lose a massive amount of altitude quickly. I switched to FRONTGUNS on the joystick and held in the Fire trigger in the path of the missle. I pushed the ramjet engine my Cockatiel had to reverse, and after selecting REVERSE, I pushed it to 55 Rear. I slowed from decending to about 100 feet a minute and the missle barely grazzed the path of my rounds, which I was surprised that it blew like Roman Candle fireworks asit hit the water. I must have hit the fuel tank becouse the warhead would not have activated where I shot it.
"Dang Jeww, you should transfer to our wing!" Yelled the General of Squadron Operations after I restored power forward at 80 and removed the Crown Flap and Emergency Airbrake. "Thanks again, pilot." Said a person onboard the Rosemary as the aircraft armed with a large missle under its right wing started to vertically take off.
"Missle! One Twenty Forward!" Yelled the pilot as our warnnings returnned on our systems. This time, I got a good look at the area around where the sonobouy was still saying the picket submarine was. Nothing came. "Ejecting!" Yelled the pilot right before the missle hit. The seat ejected, and not the Xerocraft. If he had selectred the Xerocraft, he might not have lived.
"It's not the picket sub! There is something out there stopping any launchings." I yelled after firring some random rounds into the ocean where the picket was shown to be. The rounds were designned not for range, but for penitraition, so they could go the entire depth of the bay's openning which was only about 50 feet.

"Jeww and Fireball, you two try to find a way to destroy the sub or keep stopping those missles. The rest of you find anything that could launch off an air-to-air missle. That thing was too high up to be from a sub or the surface." Commanded the General of Squadron Operations as my radar showed the three solid groups, with Twitch being her own, disperce and fly around in zig-zags.

We continued searching, not daring to fly a straight path for fear of an anti-aircraft missle comming our way. For about fifteen minutes we continued, and everytime a new aircraft tried to take off, it was targetted. A total of twenty one aircraft were launched, only two made it out without being destroyed. That was the entire of the deck storage, so they needed more aircraft to launch, and we than knew it was not a single fighter, but at least a wing. no one fighter could hold twenty two missles, which counted the first two attacks on the Pearl Island Squadron's new recruits.

"I saw something big move up here!" Yelled Twitch as she just got on the edge of my radar's range. "What, was it a fighter?" I asked. "Had to be, but it was one of those darts, you knwo what I'm talking about?" I did. The "Darts" was a suspision that Yuktobonia was designning a new aircraft that was really like two blades fused together. It was very stealthy and manuverable and was said to have material more efficant at evading radar and heat sensors.
"I see nothing! No scanner is bringing it up!" Swordsman report asI could hear a small hum in the distance of his microphone. "I hear something next to me though." This was crazy. No such thing could exist. "Start firring randomly into the sky if you suspect a cloud moved a little too much." Fireball commanded as he flew right over the Rosemary.

"Jeww, have you ever done a Heat Bump in an actual aircraft?" Twitch asked. I had to think for a secound and I remember, I named a small manuver I did in one of our simulaters that. "No, but I am sure I can do it now." I said back pulling away from the dogfighting altitude most fighters performed at.
I quickly gainned altitude, gainning speed while going at a 85 degree angle upward. I was going about 100,000 feet a minute ss I pushed the Pulse Cannon at 7gs+ for a few secounds. I quickly got to the Cockatiel's ceiling of 56,000 feet and admediatly pushed downwards.
I was off as I formed a perfect straight dive to the Rosemary. "What the Hell are you doing Jeww? You are going straight at the carrier!" Yelled the General in Squadorn Operations as I had pushed the acceleration of my Cockatiel to 100 forward. "Just doing a trick to heat up the elevaters. Get everyone on the launching portion of the left starboard deck, admediatly!" I commanded as I hit the 34,000 foot mark. I was desending at a rate noone should, but it was the only way.

"Alright, brace for impact if I miss." I joked, and actually being serious. I was losing too much altitude too fast, and at this angle, I could not hit the right direction I was aimming for. I pulled up two thousand feet higher than I should have after pushing in 150 Rear power and putting the Forward power. I pulled with my Stability Flaps aiding at 65 degrees up and my nose flug into the air like a broken toy boat comming up form underwater.
I regainned control as now I was flying with my aircraft going to hit tail-first. "Jeww, stop! Regain altitude admediatly!" Commanded hundreds of voices that I paid no attention to. I starting pressing buttons I had memorized in a sertain order, not knowing, but just doing.
The ramjet's massive roar stopped, and my first instinct was "Engine Stall!" But I kept on going by the procedures I remembered doing in the simulater. I hit 10,000 feet, the forward mark. But I was falling too fast. I was going 540 knots in reverse. I was panicing by now, and than I thought "Aircraft are expendable, remember?" The captain said that before he ejected.
I pushed Forward 120, the maximum, heard the ramjet pick up a massive deafening roar behind me as it was about to ram into the ground. 2,000 feet and still going 230 knots reverse. I had less than two secounds before I would hit the ground. "Good bye." I said in my microphone after selecting 15gs+ on the Pulse Cannon Selector and pressing in the Activate button on the throttle lever.
Humans can barely stand 9gs+, but 15+? In force characteristics, that was just below 2/3 times more. My head flew back into the seat, my hands flew back dispite my ever strong struggle to keep them on the controls, and my helmet's glass shattered with my eyes closed, the sheer pain of glass flying into my face by the forces acting agenst them.
I felt pressure being relived along my backbone, pressure I never thought I had. My arms, I did not know of they were connected or not. And, one of my last thoughts, my neck. I felt and even over the deafening roar of the ramjet behind me, I heard a crack.
I blacked out after hearing "Fonzi!" over the reciver section of the destroyed helmet now in the rear portion of the canopy. It was Fireball.

Any suggestions or comments so far? Chapter Three B "Broken Arrow" will be posted tommarow, if all goes to plans that is. Chapter 4 and 5 (Friday and Saturday) will not be posted due to me being buisy. I will try to make them up on Sunday.

Bringing Up My Post for a few allies.

OOC:

Its Yuktobania...Get some originality please.

OOC: lol, this is based after a real war I had with Yuke (when the game first was thought of, a few bits of information came out, including the two fuding powers. We wanted to have a war like the game had, so we RPed it, and since he was planning on leaving the RPing community, I would play the Oseans (which is also why my government is called Osea). Big freak for the game's series
He spelt it Yuktobonia, not the real way, becouse he sucks at spelling (like myself).

EDIT:
He made a enw nation after his, Dragoonian, was destroyed. Driggerville was his original before I even joinned this game almost a year ago. So I am just following the story line we made, and I belive his nation Yuke still exists, only just revived if anything.

Chapter Three II "Sitting Duck"

Sand Island - Jeww

I awoke to a a numming sensation along my backbone. I had no idea where I was at first. It was like going over to a friend's house to spend the night and awaking in a forgein room where you have not the lightest clue where you are for a few secounds. I tried to move my arms, but I did not feel them.
They're cut off! I thought panically. I tried moving my head to see if they were, but I could not. My backbone, it snapped. I thought remembering my last secounds in my fighter. But I must not have crashed, I was alive. I had to be parellized than, no doubt was in my mind, but I accepted it. I had a problem with that, I would accept things for how they were, and if I did not like them, I would try to change it. This, I could not.

I laid there for at least an hour, but seemed like a enitre day, thinking, replying what had happened. I made the mistake of pushing the engine too far, even beyond my own limits. This was my punishment. "Fonzi?" Asked a familar voice. Only one person in the entire Federal Armed Forces knew my real first name. "Hey, Fireball. I got a question." I said weakly, noticing my voice sounded like I was too tierd to even live.
"Yeah?" He asked as I saw his shadow trail across the wall, but I did not see him from my ceiling view. "Did they cut anything off?" I said slowly taking in a deap breath every other word. "No, only had to open your stomach to see what you did to your kindey. One of them got punctured into your lower vertibre and they had to fix it up."
I saw him, saggy eyes and pale for his dark skin tone. I have never seen him this tierd before. "Scar?" I asked after a few secounds of breathing heavily. "Small, they used some new laser thingy to fix it. Maybe it will be so small it will not be noticable." He said back, moving his arm back and forth. "Can you feel that?" He asked after he stopped.
I did not feel anything. "Feel what?" I asked. "Your still under the influence of paranium nitrate. If it hasn't left yet, it will soon. The M.D.'s say you'll be up in the air by this evenning if no other complecations show themselves." He said back, sitting down on the bed next to mine, which looked like someone else was just in it.
"Who else was in here?" I asked. I could move my head, and feel some of my legs and arms. It was starting to wear off. "Swordsman, the Wing Lead of the Pearl Island Squadron, had four other reserve pidgeons. Two were shot down, as you know before your little stunt that did work afterall, and one was shot at but he ejected out before it hit. A little more experianced.
"Pearl Island has their own medical center, why did they bring him here?" I asked. He looked down, and I noticed than what had happened, and what that picket submarine was. "Truitt no longer controls Pearl Island now, do we?" I asked quivering. "No, and the boy, Tyler Dangerfield, died in this bed. He went into shock and died of oxygen deprivation. They airlifted him here, where he died a few minutes after laying him here."

I looked down as I moved to sit upwards when I noticed a sharp pain in my lower back, probably the kidney. "Did Swordsman survive? How about the 3rd Carrier? Did they make it?" I pushed myself. I collapsed down from weakness and lost my breath. "Calm down, you might not go back up when you get better if you do that, and we really need pilots now." Fireball began and came over to me, seeing I was determind to talk to him up-straight.
"The 3rd Spartean Carrier mnade it out, losing five escort T-Boats becouse of the lack of your great anti-missle skills. Swordsman is fine, but he is assignned to the Rosemary becouse after launching and getting shot at by the confirmed eight Spikes had lost all but two other fighters. The Spikes were destroyed by us, all eight, but not without a price. We lost over a hundred lives that night, and thought you would be added until they said you would be fine." He finished, and I looked blankly at the wall across from us. There was a mural an artist painted.
It had four fighters, in the most black color I have ever seen, with red stripes on the edge of the wings. The Cockatiel Flap, which is behind the cockpit, was painted a forest green. The colors of the Raptiors, the squadron in Sparty Island Chain War III that protected the Presidente at Raptior.

"The Raptiors..." I whispered under my breath. "Hm?" Fireball asked turnning to me. "Nothing, nothing." I said staring at the mural until the doctor came, who than released me after watching me walk and do some basic skill tests to see if my hand-eye coordination or memory was lapsing.

The days past on and on. We were getting trainned pilots from the Emeral Isles in the Atlantic almost every day. They would come in, sleep or have a little bit of rest, and leave. What made me shutter was that eight would come in and leave, and only two or three would come back. Those two or three would leave with an other wing that had come, and most of the time, they would not come back ether.
I was tould they were escorting bombers to Pearl Island and the Fuhrer Isles, a former Driggerian island chain south of the Sparty Islands that Yuktobonia had created military bases on. It was a possition that made the Truitti Spartys totally surrounded if an anti-air and anti-ship system was installed.

The days seemed to get longer and longer, as I tried to keep a personal record on pilots who come in and leave, at least by their pin numbers on the wings. I recored a whole bunch of usless information, becouse no fighter came in three times. And only two came in twice after completeing, or for all I knew, failing a mission.
I was labeled as Recovering from Battle Injury, so I was exempt from the briefing list, so I had to talk to Fireball or Twitch to get what was happening. But, today was my last day as a cirpple, at least in my eyes. The doctor said wait fourteen days, two weeks, and today was lucky fourteen.

I walked, straight and fine, into the Rec Room where Glass and Twitch were sitting, next to eachother, and touching by the shoulders. Although I would not normally mind this, they seemed to look guilty every time I walked in or just destracted by something that was not there.
I noticed they were getting closer more emotionally, becouse Twitch had been going into the Rec Room more and more. So, I would try to go in there so they would not do anything that could get them kicked out of the service.

"Sup Jeww, how are things?" Asked Twitch as I sat down in my normal cusion on the couch next to the window. I leaned over to grab The Raptior and said "Straight, you?" An other stupid inside joke. "Straight" was meanning that I was flying in a straight line, probably to get hit by a missle. The problem was if she said Cruked than she was up to no good, and she would be honest. "I'm a little zig-zaggy today."
What a joke. I just ignored their conversation on what they planned to do after the military and began to read.

Man shall fight man, blame one of their own, and disown him.
The boy, being disowned by his own people, barely escaped into the depths of the ocean.
Both fueding men thought him to be dead, even as he arose.
He arose with wings from Saten himself and claws from Hell.
The Raptior, to free the two men from their despreate fueding while murdering others in its scarlet path.

The formation they put the lines in confused me, and none of it rymed. I personally only liked the story becouse of its long version, which was bloody and goary. This was the "Military Approved" version, which had almost no detail.

"Jeww, what are your plans for outside the force?" Twitch asked. I looked up and thought. I had no clue. "Be the Presidente." I said jokingly. We laughed. "Yeah, who would elect you as you presidente?" Glass asked sarcastically. "The Yukes probably would." Fireball said comming in with a smile on his face, but it quickly died.
"We don't have any time for a briefing, so we will do it in the air. Since Jeww could not be found, they called me. Screech wants us to get outta here admediatly, with Jeww as the lead bird. We will head torwards the Northern Plots, crossing the Eastern Plots on our way. I don't know why. He just said we better be off the ground in ten minutes or the entire war could end in a swift minute."
We all got serious as I stood up, putting down my book. "Sand Island, Hanger!" I commanded as we sprinted from the Rec room to the outdoors, a place I had not been for two weeks.
I loved the feeling of the wind in my air. Twitch was lagging behind us, even if she was more fit. She probably stayed behidn for a few secounds to say bye to Glass.

Got to Hanger K, which Hanger C and D were now holding trainner aircraft for when the new recruits would come later that week. "We have no time to precheck, they probably did it anyways. Lets get loaded and rev up!" I commanded as we went through the back door.
There she was, my Cockatiel, like nothing happened. I was tould the Pilot Safety Computer activated when it sensed I was not giving in any more inputs or my vital signs went low. It was a system installed to have the aircraft continue light manuvers to avoid missles and hostiles, but also would try to land at a friendly base, or even be taken by remote control from a Liger Systems Controller.

I got inside the cockpit for the first time, and sitting where most HUDs would be on other fighters, was a picture of all four of us, including the captain. Smiling, as the three of us passed his approval test, which passed us completely into being fighter pilots. Under it was the capitan's note. "Never do a manuver you have done in a simulater in your career unless you want some one-way teachings on hurt."
Smilling, I switched on the Avionics Switch and Master Switch. Everyone else had done the same, so as I put on my helmet, all their information came up. "Nice picture, Fireball." I joked activating my engine, to signal everyone else to. The roar, which was so imprinted in my memory, returnned. "Taxi, confirmed." I reported as I took the lead of the line out to the taxiway.
We got about a few yards apart and I commanded with a stirn, and proud voice "Sand Island, Launch!" I pushed Vertical 45 and started to rise. As we hit the Air Traffic Altitude, or ATA, I pushed Forward till I got to 80. We quickly formmed a tight wing formation with Twitch on my left as usual and Fireball on my right.

I was just praying I would not have to try an other simulater move agian, even if mine did work for once.

Northern Plots - Jeww

The Spartean Protectorate Fleet. One-Fourteenth of the entire Truitti Fleet, it was still large, but like Pearl Island, was trapped in shallow water. The Spartys had a problem with that, at least the south western Spartys where we were did. It had eighty ships in all, three aircraft carriers, two battleships, ten plus destroyers and many more combat boats and missle boats.
It was not designned to fight a head-on naval battle, but a far-away combat operation that involved aircraft, missles, and big explosions away from the eye's sight. That was its flaw. The two battleships could not protect the entire fleet, and that was why it was open, not becouse of the shallow water.

Information and scouts had returnned saying no enemy vessels in the waters, but there could be submarines there. The picket sub was quiet, too quiet. Almost as silent as a standerd Raptior-class T-Boat, the quietest attack submarine in the region. That was what scared me. If they had that good of technology, what could stop them from making an "Invisible" Fleet like Truitt had?

We flew above the fleet, making banks and turns to pass. Almost all of the Spartean Fighter Wings were here too, protecting the fleet as it went for deeper waters, its playground. We were not needed. We could have left and they would not care.

An hour past, as the fleet moved slowly. As slow as the aging Presidente-class Battleship could, 5 knots. They finally reached the edge of the base's docking grounds and was at a straight to a bridge that connected the Northern and Western Plots. The western was all civilian, and it showed becouse of the massive numbers of gray structures comming into the sky over there.
The bridge pulled up to allow for the taller ships to pass without any troubles. The straight was thin and shallow. Only two ships could pass at a time, two small destroyers. One of the three carriers got to the harbor openning of the straight and it almost was trailling on the sandy bottom, which it was occasionally.
I heard it over the line. "We got sand contact on port seven zero room A six six seven." That was when it stopped. If my stupified idea of the Auburn-class was correct, it has sand near the left propulsion drive. That ment a SCUBA crew had to go clean it before the nuclear reactor became critical over time due to lack of power output.

"4th, 16th, and 72nd Escort Wings can disband. All other aircraft, follow Primary Common Rules, Section C, given at the time of briefing." Reported a female voice over the line, probably the admiral of the Radon, the flagship which was one of the two battleships. "Confirmed, dispercing." Confirmed all the flight leads. We were ordered to be the last to leave since we had the least amount of time there.
"Ow, man, they are all leaving! When do we get to go?" Asked Fireball breaking the formation to do a few spins to wear off the bordom. He kenw the answer. "Until the fleet reaches deep sea." Replied the admiral of the Radon, obviously annoiyed by him already. "This is Sand Island Two, requesting a fly-by for the Radon." Requested Fireball after pulling back into formation as we made a slight bank to get back over the fleet.
"Fly-by denied. Stay to the mission or I will personally court-marshel you." It was the admiral again. "Damn, your a basterdized queer, arn't yeah?" Joked Fireball, which he should not have done. "Sand Island Two, after this mission I will see to it that you are not to fly in any nation again!" Roared the admiral. I decided to join in the fun.
"What's wrong piggy?" I began sounding like I was talking to a baby. I hear a "Huh?" over the line and went on in a high-pitched annoying voice "Here piggy, piggy, piggy! Eat an other dougnut piggy!" I screammed as I quickly typed a message to the Encoder Desk on the bridge of the Radon. Stay to the mission or I will personally see to it you eat bacon for the rest of your life, Piggy!.
Admediatly I heard yells and curces over the line from the annoyed admiral. He used so many vulgarities in a single word that I thought he was American or something. "Dang, piggy. Calm down." I said in Italian, which I hoped he did not know. "You burn in Hell!" Yelled the admiral in Italian. I could not stop from laughing, as Fireball and Twitch were already.
I started to memick the furious admiral some more, the worst he could do was shot me down, and I had come close enough to that a few weeks ago. "You go to hell! Go to Hell and burn! Burn in Hell!" I started to yell into the line. I started to hear laughs form the whole fleet and remaining fighters within the radio's transmission radius.
"You little-" Began the admiral, quevering in his voice by a large margerain. "Something takes a part of me, something lost and never seen." Sang Fireball. He had just started Freak on a Leash by KORN on his media player.

Everytime I start to belive
Something is raped and taken from me, from me

"Keep this line clear!"

Lifes gotta always be messin' with me
Can just let me chill and be free
Can't I take away all this pain
I type Two every night in vain, in vain

"Stop it you damn Emeraldians!"

Sometimes I can not take this place
Sometimes it's my life I can taste
Sometimes I can not feel my face
You know that you have seen me far from grace

"I will have you all put to death!"

Something takes a part of me
You and I weren't ment to be
I keep for me to live
Something takes a part of me

"No, don't sing along you fools!"

Feeling like a freak on a leash
Feeling like I have no release
How many times have I felt diesese
Nothing in my life is free, is free

"What the Hell!?"

Sometimes I can not take this place
Sometimes it's my life I can taste
Sometimes I can not feel my face
You know that you have seen me far from grace

"I will have this whole fleet court-marshelled!"

Something takes a part of me
You and I weren't ment to be
I keep for me to live
Something takes a part of me

We were all signing along before Twitch, right on cue, yelled "Take it ovah here, baby pop!" with the background tableman while me and Fireball did what we did best, use our Bebis and Butthead impressions to make that grunting and yelling sound Dante Ross did torwards the end. By now everyone was ether laughing, singing, or knocked out by the admiral. "Fill the feed!" Yelled Twitch again as Fireball took the stage to the rap-like yelling while I continued with our grunts.

Something takes a part of me
You and I weren't ment to be
I keep for me to live
Something takes a part of me

"What the Hell! Was this planned!" Demanded the admiral as Twitch and an other woman that piloted an AWACs chanted the rest of the song with the admiral demanding order.

Part of me
Part of me
Part of me
Part of me

"Man, we need to do this more often." I said jokingly to Fireball. "Hell No!" Yeled the admiral.

Part of me
Part of me
Part of me
Part of me

"Tisk tisk tisk, dirty mouth you have piggy." Toyed Fireball pulling up to my wing. He had broke and began to do sharp formations and manuvers as a show for the song.

Part of me

They finished, and some of the fleet even cheered. "We should perform more often." Twitch said as she pulled down low to the deck of a destroy, quickly pulling up and spinning while doing so in graditude for the crew comming out on deck.
"Hey guys, I got something on my radar. I think it is messed up." Said Fireball stirnly. I smiled and said "Yeah, we've heard that one before." I snapped sarcastically as I went through my playlist for something that pretains to long waiting and the ocean.
"No, I'm serious. I got sixteen small attack aircraft, Harriers, comming dead on at the Radon. He would not joke if he actually named a target. I quickly switched from Music Player to Expanded Radar Search and right there, plain as day, was the low-flying Harriers. I could not see from the screen what type.

"Attention Spartean Protectorate Fleet, you have sixteen un-designated Harrier attackers comming in hot and low directly at said flagship." I reported alarmed. I admediatly made the Combat Systems Coordination System active, which also activated the systems in Twitch's and Fireball's computers.
"I give the clearance to engage!" I commanded to the other two as we broke off, and selecting our weapons loads. "We do not have them on radar, do not engage until we have confirmed them hostile!" Commanded the admiral. "The things are flying hot and low, only anti-shipping and fast penitraition missions need that, nota friendly 'hello' message!" I argued. I could be sent out of the military for this for sure.
"All who engage before designation is regestered will be sent off of the armed forces roster and be exicuted for treason!" Blasted the admiral. I did not care, these things were not friendly. No allies of Truitt had Harriers, and if they did, they would be so stealthy our radars would show them smaller. They were Yuktobonian.
"Sand Island, Engage!" I commanded. "Jeww, we can't-" Began Twitch right when Fireball hit his throttle full. "I thought you'd never say 'go!'" He yelled as he made a small barrel-roll and leveled out at the Harrier's altitude of 1,200 feet. By now they were already within anti-shipping missle range, and they could have launched them by now.

We took off, now being the only fighters within the enite radio range, and being that the fleet was held up by the still-stopped [i]Radon[i/] and the carriers could not launch if the ship was stopped completely due to its nuclear reactor.

I got a radar warnning at the same moment as I had aquired and locked onto the first. Comming head-on, I firred and pulled up. The explosion i could hear and feel in the shockwaves. "The Sand Island Squadron destroyed an undesignated! All active ships, fire at the trators." Commanded the admiral.
I thought something like that would be called. Just out of nowhere I heard a large explosion with a complement of screams and confusion on the line. I made a sharp bank to get behind an other Harrier and to see the fleet. One ship, a surfaced balistic missle submarine, was hit by an anti-shipping missle. "All active vessels, fire at enemy aircraft!" I commanded over the probably bafelled admiral.
Obvisouly, the confusion got the better of the fleet and they started to fire without the admiral's orders, only mine. I could get used to ordering a fleet after seeing five ships fire a missle each at a single slowed Harrier who was shooting rockets into the hull of a Skylink Countermeasure Ship. The Skylink itself firred about ten at the Harrier while four close-by ships firred one. The Harrier blew and even more as the missles hit eachother.
I loved that feeling, when something in the air went boom and you could feel it through your arms and legs. I targtted an other one of the Harriers and almost firred until I saw it blow by five automated guns onboard ships near the Skylink, who was being attacked first becouse of its countermeasure systems that could thwart anything.

"Anti-Shipping missle, incomming!" Yelled a crewman as the Skylink's entire deck dropped, litterally, with only guns and missle launchers showing. "Fire Barrage!" Commanded a familar voice, the one that gave Twitch the complement after her ending of the song.
The Skylink, with its five automated guns, firred rabid rounds out, up to 1,400 rounds per minute. The rounds, all five firring, firred the black lines at the missle which almost all hit. It blew into bits, I did not know if it was the fuel or warhead hit, but it blew sending a large shockwave and a large wave to be thrown onto the decks of the smaller boats.

"Radon, what is your status?" I asked as I noticed the Radon was still not moving, even as the other ships infront of it had cleared and had submerged. "We are still working on the propulsion drive, it is clogged big time!" Reported someone else. With the Radon blocking their way, the fleet was a sitting duck.

I just relized the problem as a Skylink reported "Four more anti-shipping missles, we can not get them all! Brase for impact near-by boats!" I was waiting for the first of the four soon-to-come explosions when I saw on my Extended Radar Search Screen four more fighters, and these were MiG 1.44s.

Bump for comments and suggestions before Chapter Four "How It's Personal" is posted in about five hours (when I get on my laptop).

Chapter Three III "The Scarlet Sea"

Northern Plots - Fireball

Four missles were flying dead-on at the Rosemary and the only Skylinks and ships who could engage the missles were taken up by the Harriers that past our four planes. We were the only aircraft, the aircraft carriers not being able to due to engine difficulties becouse they all had to stop.
"Missle downed, four remainning!" Yelled Jeww as he pulled out of a nose dive. His last attempt failed and luckly a Skylink had enough time to attract their attention to the missle. That luck would not happen this time. The Rosemary, even being the most hull-thick, could not possably withstand three hits.
I was thinking about nose diving torwards the Rosemary and hoping that a missle would ram into me, giving the large carrier less of a hit. Than, I thought of something. "Drop all your Heavy Shaff inbetween the missles and their targets!" I admediatly heard engagments by Jeww and Swordsman, who vertically took off once the first Harrier wave was destroyed.
"I got your six, Fireball." Twitch said over the line as I took the lead and flew low. The missle was going at least mach three, probably to mach 2.5 if it was not our day. I admediatly boosted with my Pulse Cannon to mach 4, trying to gain some speed. "God, it's getting hot in here." I panted as Twitch left my rear view.
If you have not been in a cockpit when you are going at mach 1.2+ speeds, than you do not know hot. I unbuttoned my jacket and, knowing my HUD would be useless being that everything else was visually done, I flipped it up to give my face some fresher air. I did not dare disconnec my resperater, I was going too fast to gain enough air.

I saw the missle now, it was comming from my eight o'clock, and dead-fast. It must have been a Sunburn Anti-Shipping Missle, the ones the Russians developed that still is very useful. I hoped it wasn't, becouse if it was, a simple Heavy Shaft drop would not even dent the warhead.
"Fireball, once you drop, you will have to pull up admediatly or get blown to bits with the warhead." Reminded Twitch as she showed on my radar, trailling. Maybe she was trying to get the next in-line missle.

I was just eighty feet away from dropping. Seventy, Fifty, Fourty, Twenty, drop! I dropped them, and becouse of my human delays, did it on time. I pressed RELEASE on ten, and since the shaft was heavy, it would lag. Not like my speed helped any. I heard thumps and rumbles and I pulled my nose up to 85 degrees about and pressured the ramjet for a high-speed boost.
I could see the warhead of the missle. It was yellow, a peace-time paint scheme. I, knowing I was it, pushed the ramjet not for the standerd 7+gs, but 8+gs. My head flew back, arms got heavy, and my legs seemed to hover above the rudder pedals. The force of an aircraft carrier launch. I loved it, as did most pilots, but I did not like why I was doing it this time.

I felt a large shockwave and a loud explosion behind me. But, no mroe sound except far-away explosions and engine rumbles. But nothing close. My ramjet quit! I flipped back down my HUD glass and it was labeled OFFLINE - UNSTABLE. I had killed it by forcing a high-speed boost with a shockwave behind me.
"One more missle, incomming!" Yelled Twitch as she flew past me. I was losing too much speed at too high of an altitude, it could break my canopy's inner glass-like layer with the rapid change, and sure enough the screens would shatter.

"Fireball, you have no engine output, push torward to avoid stalling." Commanded Swordsman as he past right below me. I was panicing. I had never had an engine stall before, except on a simulator. Than, I looked at my speed and altitude. 12,000ft and mach 2.3, just enough.
I pushed down my nose as the GROUND IMPACT WARNNING screen started to flash, meannign I would hit the ground within ten secounds of flight. I Just did it so my speed would not slow so fast. I pulled up at about 5,000ft and still was above ths sound barrier, so I pulled up. It droped tenths digits every other secound, and soon I felt pressure being relived from my whole body, I had left the sound barrier.

I leveled out and began to search for a place to land. The problem with the ramjet I had, and that it was different than everyone else's, was that it had an extremely low chance for reactivation in mid-air, but it made up output and quick reaction times.

"Fireball, use your Flight Engine Restart Check List." Suggested Swordsman. I shoock my head and said "Mine is a Yak Eight, can not reactivate in the air. Tell the Rosemary to prepair for a hard non-cable landing." I said as I turnned torwards the large carrier, losing a lot of altitude while try to keep a speed of 450 knots.
I knew if I went below that, my glide distance would not get me there, and I had only one chance to land or I was a dead-man becouse if my ramjet was out, more than likely was the Xerocraft's turbofan too.

I looked at the large deck, one of the five Auburn-classes made with in the Flight IV that had not two decks, but one large one and placing the tower on the side instead of the middle. I was glad it was here, made a bigger target. "I need the wind speed." I said over the line to anyone who would listen. "Last check, fifteen knots at one-eight-zero." Said Jeww.
"Damn, it is agenst me." I curced as I set my flaps for 20 degrees, hoping that would add to my lift and to stop from losing anymore airspeed. "We got four more bogeys, incomming!" Reported Swordsman as him and Jeww worked on the bogeys while Twitch covered me while I tried for the landing.

"How many do they have on the Border Isles? Dang, this is too much!" Yelled Twitch as she passed right over me, redirecting some wind from my nose to her and giving me a small speed boost of five knots, and that might not seem too much, but it could keep your bird out of a stall.
"You doin' good, Fireball?" Twitch asked as she firred two missles at a C-130 Gunship as it almost entered gunrange of me. The thing's body blew with its wing, but the entire starboard could still be seen weel intact. The C-130's were tough, extremely. "Yeah, that shockwave lost me your speed gain." I said as I looked back at the Speedameter, which still showed me flying at a steady 450 knots but leanning on a near-wing flip due to the imbalance of weight.
I had to get rid of at least two hundred pounds on my right wing or I would flip if a small airpocket or wind increase came. "I'm firring two TALM-50s into the ocean." I said being as random as Jeww. "Wait, what?" Asked Swordsman as I openned my bays and acting fast. The bays gave more drag, and so did the extended missles.
I was losing speed, quickly. My altitude was stable, thank God for flaps. I aimmed as a Stealth Shot, or saying that a stealth thing is there, and firred both. They flamed out and flew into the sea after a brief secound of flight. I programmed them not to blow if they ran out of fuel.

I kept on going, at now 900ft and 230 knots, fourty knots from the stall speed and I needed that to make last-minute pitch and bank corrections. I was only five miles from the carrier, but still too far. It was not moving torwards me, it could not. It was blocked by one of the battleships and a few T-Boats.

This was getting bad, and quick. "We got bombers, incomming! A confirmed five B-52H Stratofortresses and a visually reconized B-2." Reported some person in a ship. "I see twelve black fighters behind them, wait, F-117s!" Yelled Swordsman. F-117s, B-52Hs, and B-2s.
They were putting their entire airforce into this push to destroy the fleet, even when the Emerald Isles could easily resupply twice the number. "Damn it!" I yelled while I cruced more. I hit the dashboard with all my might, including the Fuel Injection Safety Release on accident.
I heard a small, pitiful, and weak purr. I brought up my head stunned. That was not a bomb or anything, that was the ramjet! I pressed and held the Fuel Injection Safety Release until it gave the EMPTY signal on my HUD. I than prssed IGNITE on my HUD's hologram projection system and the engine roared to life.

I admediatly pushed 100 Forward and pulled up, not wanting to see if it would stall again. "I'm back in buisness!" I yelled over the line turnning to the incomming western bombers, the B-52Hs. "Twitch, I'm requesting your support at my twelve o'clock." I tould her as she pulled up.
"Nice to see yeah sis." I joked. She made a quick bank torwards me and jerked back in a motion I only knew before. Good thing I caught her finger fly up when she leveled out or I might not have done the same gesture.

"Block Eight!" I yelled firring a missle at their noses as I pulled to their direct opposite heading and altitude, the missle would hit right at their fronts. "Block Three!" Yelled Twitch as she did the same to an other. We lowered our altitudes and pulled into a sharp bank, side-by-side, as the bombers passed. My missle hit the body and the wings, being thing and heavy with bombs, flew off. It slowly spin until it hit the water with a large splash. Twitch's missle hit head-on and killed the entire crew more than likely.
"Two bombers from west, downed!" Confirmed an AWACs tha had just entered the combat radius. It had with it four support fighters. "Thank God, it's been nearly an hour!" Swordsman yelled as the first of the four fighters fired a missle at a gunning Harrier.

Me and Twitch took aim at the other B-52H's and firred two per bomber. Each missle hit, mainly becouse their countermeasures were useless. As the last B-52H splashed into the water Jeww called in "We got down only five F-117s and then B-2s are all confirmed, down."
Still, the F-117s could do some damage. "How many are there?" I asked as Twitch and I pushed torwards the incomming black bombers. "Five, and Radar and Infrared Locks will not work. Their countermeasures are good." Swordsman said as he entered gun range of one of the F-117s and just started waling on the poor fighter, which now had black smoke trailing from its left engine exhust.
"They are almost within missle range!" Yelled one of the pilots in the peace-time paint scheme. Only Sand Island and Pearl Island had the War Time Paint Scheme, which was a dark grey. The others had a moderate-gray color and the lead had dark gray wing tips and nose.
It was odd how they painted our aircraft, expecially since our country was the only one who did not paint insignias or logos on our nose or wings to symbolize who we were.

"Block Two!" Yelled Jeww and Swordsman in unison. They were acting as one, just as me and Jeww do. The missles flew at two side-by-side F-117s and hit each one after it shot out an array of flares and shaft. The explosion was large, probably becouse they had large missles in their bays.
"Two down, three to go." Reported Jeww as he realigned to take an other shot. It was spoiled when Twitch and an other pilot shot at the same bomber, wasting a missle. "Damn, what happened to the good ol' days when the whole force acted as one?" Asked Twitch as she pulled up to the other pilot's wing and flicked him off.

What horrified me was the sight of my plane. It was losing air too fast, and was going right into the ocean. Normally, that would happen with gravity and all, but there was a group of people in the waters, from a sunken ship. To my worst fears and me looking right at them, the downed fighter rammed right into the water where they were. A Scarlet Sea, now filled with blood and flames. I now knew I hated war more now than ever.
The other two black birds fell before a single missle could be dropped. No more resistance came after that, and squadrons, one by one, returnned in five to eight minute intervals. we were so distracted by the dogfight that I had not checked my fuel. "Damn, fuel's low. I won't be able to make it back."
"Same here." The rest began to say the same. "Requesting in-flight refueling." Jeww requested as he made a wing motion for us to line up, with Swordsman following our rear. "In-Flight refueling granted. The tanker will be here in thirty minutes, tops." Said the admiral onboard the Rosemary. "Thanks guys, I owe you all one." He said over the line as we turnned for the tanker.

We would not land at Sand Island, we were ordered to directly go to the Emerald Isles, across South America and land at a friendly base in Argentina, where we were to meet a group of recruits there and than fly them to Raptior Airforce Base, at the capital of our nation.
We were not ready for what our welcome home party would have in store for us.

Chapter Four "Now It's Personal"

Bega-Raptior Airspace Border, Emerald Isles - Jeww

The sights of Bega was not much. It was mainly a farmming community, mainly producing marijuanna and tobacco. The three of us however, enjoyed our sights, even from 10,000 feet up in the air.
We had been flying defence missions after that battle, yet no ground forces had moved anywhere. Most fleets stayed put, and only air raids were happening. Their Spike, or that myserious craft that had attacked us that dark and musky night so long ago, was confirmed to being one of the four only Spikes, and the other three were decommisioned after the first failed, thinking they were a waste of their time and money when a war was imminent.
Travelling all over as usual, we had never actually been to the Emerald Isles since our recruitment, let alone Raptior, the capital. "Capitallia, probably the most industrialized and protected state in the world, and in Truitt." Reported Twitch as we formmed a looser formation. She was still hurting from not having a wingmate, the men at Airforce Command were supposed to send her one by now, but I guess they had more fish to fry.

Below there was nothing but snowed-covered forestry and lights that showed small towns. Capitallia was based around two cities, Lesser Raptior and Raptior. Lesser Raptior was where all civilians and diplomatic arms went, Raptior, the actual capital, was for only militarymen and federal leaders.
Complex as it was, we soon entered Raptior's airspace which was actually a few hundred nautical miles wide, large for a city, even if it was a capital. "Sand Island Squadron, you are cleared to land on runway Victor One." Said a Capitalliaen in his very thin acsent.

We flew at 5,000 feet to the airforce base were twelve fighters, all Cockatiels but furtherly mroe advanced than our own, came up to our wings without warning. I nearly freaked and banked thinking it was a hostile. They did not even show up on our radars or friendly-hostile locators.

After understanding they were FIA (Federali Investigation Agency) privatized fighters, I was a little more lessen stress-wise. They were the aces, most of which have been fighters their whole lives and had fought every Sparty Island Chain War to hit the history books. Odd, three wars in less than 50 years that had claimed millions.

We slowed to 30 knots as we got above Runway V1 and than to 0 knots, hovering and slowly decending. As I touched down a whole crew of men armed with guns ran up from underneath the runway.
Freaked me a little, and they searched my cockpit and whole aircraft. A security measure. The other three got their own treatment, Fireball about to get shot becouse he threw a man who had pressed Open Files on his touch-screen across the center line. He was expecially picky about others touching his baby.

A few hours past as we were slowly cleared and the night turnned to dawn. We were tould we had the whole day to meet the new pidgeons and sparrows and get them reconized with the three of us, as we will be trainning them at Sand Island due to the airforce bases here in the 'Isles were filled far above their limits.
There were 21 in all. Enough for five squadrons and a single left over. "Hey, what's your name?" I asked the boy who could not be older than 15 as I noticed he had not paired up with three others. "I respectively wish to be called Spit, sir." He said in a voice that sounded more like a nerd's than a fighter pilot's. "You a pidgeon or sparrow, Spit?" I asked him chewing my Icebreakers gum. "Pidgeon, I am assignned to replace a downned pilot from the Sand Island Squadron, sir."
I stopped chewing and looked at him. He could not be in our squadron, he was inexperianced and useless. It would cost our lives to keep him alive. "Are you sure that it is the Sand Island Squadron?" I asked, hoping he ment Pearl Island although I hated myself for wishing such a thing to Swordsman. "Yessir." He said very quickly and almost robotically.
I sighed and said "Follow me, Spit." I was wondering how he got his name. We all had reasons, but some of these that the recruits had were just plain crazy. I walked briskly down the hallay with many female trainnees, mostly sparrows, laughing and giggling and some talking about the other boys on the base.
I know it was war and that we needed all the help we could get, but I could not understand how the government could take these young children and put them under front-line possitons of sparrows, pidgeons, and sea gulls.
Well, that brings up an other thing. Pidgeons is just like saying a nugget, grunt, or new flyboy. They mainly air to air fighters and made to be front-line dogfighters. Sparrows are mainly strategic pilots who fly ground suppot and air interdiction missions, light stuff. Sea gulls, well, they have ti easy. They fly what they are given and are mainly shorebirds, or protectors of the base while the masses are out on a mission.
Even sea gulls got sent to toher bases that were expected to be attacked, so they were front line fighters too. And being as young as 14 years of age? Madness. But, I was 12 when I joinned and quickly became a good pilot by 14. I was being a sterotypical and hypocritic person just then.
I turnned and looked at Spit. He had dimples and had a major acne problem. He had little muscle, but was wearing a First Class Airman's Badge. I was not even a 2nd class Airman until I turnned 15, and I was on active Sea Gull Duties.
"Spit, tell me how you got that shiney badge there, bud." I said chewing my gum that I forgotten about on the top of my mouth. He looked surprised and began with excitment like he was just barely stopping it form comming out "Ohh, a Yuke was on the base and I noticed him acting queerish. So I took my handgun that they had just issued me and tould him to stop. He turnned around and had a bomb strapped to his chest. I shot him before he pressed the trigger with his thumb.
"I was a little shaken and scared, but I found out later that the bomb could destroy half the base and that he was about to active it. They promoted me up three ranks for it." He took in some breaths and starting rambling on about his first flight and when he first noticed the strange man when I noticed he was from the Borderlands of Mattian, a territory in Africa.
He had that old-english acsent and would not speack Commin even if it killed him. Only Mattians would act like that. I interupted him right before we walked into our private room where Twitch and Fireball were bound to be unless Fireball was out yelling at federal maintance men for turnned a bolt too tight.
"Alright, bud. I think you should know who I am before you walk in here." I began. He looked confused and betrothled. "I am Jeww, the lead pilot of the Sand Island Squadron. In there is a woman, Twitch, who is secound in command and your new wingmate. Also, possably in there, is Fireball, my wingmate. You are replacing our old flight lead, Heatseeker. This maybe temporary, since he maybe returnning soon. He went missing after being shot down but intelligance says he probably made it to some uninhabited island near the place where he splashed."
I stopped, lying to myself. The intelligance said he was more than likely picked up by the amphibious command ship and probably prisoner. I looked down as he started rambling on how he was glad to be part of the Sand Island Squadron and how he had heard we were the "Aces of the Pacific."
I held up my hand to stop him. This confused me. "The 'Ace of the Pacific?' Don't you mean Flarz Island is are the A.P.'s?" I asked him. Flarz Island was the most southern island that Truitt held in the Pacific, it was located right on the former Driggerian capital island whcih was mostly underwater due to the nuclear attacks it firred at itself in hopes to stop the enemy advance.
"No, they all dissapeared two days ago, the same day that the major attack on naval forces near Pearl Island took place." He said as my heart skipped a beat. Flarz Island were almost as good as the F.I.A. Air Wing, or F.I.A.A.W..
"Lets go in." I said thinking deeply what could have heppened. Laying there was Twitch reading a book Glass had given her before we left. It was the real noval, The Raptior, which if the military caught her with it should could be sent to federal jail houses. "Jeww, who is this?" She asked looking up from not her book, but a note within the pages.
Glass and her had been getting closer and closer, and I walked in on them sucking face in our quarters right after a meeting. I guess no one would walk in there, becouse most went to the Rec Room or the Colee (the Mess Hall) after briefings.
I did not tell anyone, mainly becouse Twitch almost killed my soul with the possability of me even telling Fireball. "If you tell anyone, even your little pinky finger, I will saw off your balls with a blunt plastic butterknife." Of cource that sent a painful sensation through my whole, "danger zone," and made me think twice about even bringing it up again.
"This is Spit, your new wingmate." I said breathing in and sighing out, hoping that she would not yell out and curce blastphamy at the poor boy. She just smiled and said "Welcome to the squadron, Spit is it?" He nodded, amazed by her beauty she carried with her presence. I still am not sure to this day wether I really did find her attractive then or if it was just a guy thing, being far away from a lot of females in my four years in service.

I left them to talk and to take a bathroom break. I walked into the bathroom and there were two pidgeons, a sparrow, and a sea gull. I had met them earlier that day. They all were just called Numbah One, Numbah Two, Numbah Three, and Numbah Four. Offly enough, I belive there was a chartoon series that came out the year I left civilian life that had characters named that, secret agents that were kids I think.
They nodded at me and I did the same. They saluted when they noticed my Flight Lead badge on my chest to the left, a little crooked, but they saluted thinking I was on duty. I technically was, a Flight Lead always is. "At ease." I said in a discusted voice walking up to a urinal and "releasing the chaft of its pressure" as I would call it around Twitch and all the other ladies out there.
They made a few chuckling noises and I finished up quickly. Seriously, if you rush me your in trouble to begin with. I turnned and there they were, guns to my face. "This is an interesting situation you four have put me in." I toned opinionativly consentraiting on the corner of my eye where the heating duct was. Its covering panel was barely on y a single screw.
I knew the guns were paintball, and that there was a rumor that I was the best in the Pacific, so I was assuming they wanted to try my skills at Street Paintal. "You guys really wanna play Street'?" I asked looking at the one I remembered being Numbah One.
"Sure, lets see what yeah' got." Said Numbah One pulling down his gun as with the other three. "Do I get a two secound royalty?" I asked cocking my head to the side innocently. He knew something was up. "Sure." He said as they turnned to look at eachother. The exact thing I was hoping they would do.

I sprung, pants still half-up and my glory showing torwards the sink where the duct was. They started to swing their guns' stocks at me as I ripped the cover off from the wall with drywall flying all over me in a powdery form. My Dickies that I always wore were now soiled in white stuff; Fireball would never let me live pass this day.
I took the covering and tossed it around and hit Numbah Two right in the head, his gun above his head ready to chop downwards. He lost his grip and fell, with the rifle falling right into my hands. I grabbed the barrel, and being as a good fighter as any close-combat operative should be, I swung right at Numbah One's right shoulder and it hit him, but I did not go unscatched. His stock came around and barely missed my head but his return swing after me striking him hit me right on my left thigh.
It was my bad leg, and it wanted to give on me, but I just sed my left arm as usual to take a good striahgt and solid jab right through his nose. He fell, not being able to withstand a hit so hard to his cavities.
Before I could regain my senses Numbah Three and Four came at me, a sparrow and sea gull, both heavily fit and would take more than a solid punch to take them out. I admedialty threw the gun at Numbah Four and let my leg give in and I calapsed right next to where I left the cover, ontop of Numbah Two's chest who was now staying down on the ground, knowing that was a death shot.
I jumpd back as I regained stance from my leg as Numbah Three swung at me with two guns, one of them the one from Numbah Two himself. He started swinging randomly and leaving his chest open, but if I stroke, he would hit me.
I decided to make a dive in and pushed my strong right leg agenst myself and flew right into his curling fat. My pants by now were very well down with my boxers almost as far as it did not go as planned and I fell forward, but thank God he did not expect me to fall and dived for me. I rolled over on my back, with my self flying up in the air saying "Hello" and flew back up to my feet.
Before I could even think about pulling up my pants Numbah One and Four were comming at me, Numbah One was cheating. I had enough of this and I jumped, pants down still and left leg killing me as if a thousand knives were scathing its nerves and tissue, right to Numbah One's head who was surprised as he saw a one-eyed snake flying at him. He ducked and I flew right overhim. I landed perfectly onto the ground into a roll and recovery. I yanked my pants, with boxers afterwards giving me a killed crack pain, up as Numbah Four and Numbah Three were comming right at me, and Numbah Two was not far behind.
I kicked the Arm Dryer machine on the wall as hard as I could which sent it in the air and the pipe that came from the wall was now shooting hot air into the incomming neucenses. The machine itself fell with a clank and Numbah One, still trying to recover from his near-gay experiance and loss of balance almost got hit by the some fifty-pound box. The others studdered just enough as I turnned on the water faucet to full and pushed my fingers agenst the pressuring numbing stream of clear liquid and shot the water at them into their eyes.
I than ran and dropped kicked Numbah Three as he was the first to regain sanity from the face shots and hit him right into Numbah Two. Numbah One and Numbah Four started than to come for me, and I could not go on much longer. Just then one of them, I still can't remember who, slipped on a water puddle that was drainning in the middle of the bathroom and caused the other to follow his path to the tile floor.

They laid there, idle. I was the victor. I gave a small "Woot" and then Radier came in to see what the racket was. I did nto notice it until I salute that I than felt myself hit my inner thigh. I gave a small grunt, looked down, and noticed I was still sagging, big time.
Imbarrased, I pulled them up quickly and buckled my pink and black checkered belt. He looked me down, the room, and the four laying near-death. He had a confused, impressed, and strict facial expression. "You showed those punks who's boss, ehh?" He commented in Commin. He was the first one out of my squadron to talk to me in Commin since the Captian was shot down.
"Yeah, I guess we should put it on their bills?" I said formally, taking it that we were in formal conversation since he did not have on his uniform or was standing up completely straight. He looked over the damage, at least a few hundred dollars. I am glad it was not worst. If I had to go on any long, I would have damaged the two stalls too.
Right about now the four started to slowly get up. "Ohh, Lued, dak leu Le Raptior!" Yelled Numbah Three looking at me, yelling in Commin "Ohh, Lord, he is the Raptior." They quickly ran out, without saluting or making any polite gestures to their superiors. He looked at me and smiled. "They will be re-assignned to the Marvy Force right away, I will make sure of it. And this never happened, am I correct?" He questioned as I noticed he was hiding something behind in his Admirelo's Coat.
The Marvy Force comment made me pleased, they were tougher Marines, by many degrees. "Yeah." I said putting out my left hand on purpose to get him to show me a glimpse of the box. He shifted it into his right hand and than shook my left hand. I noticed than what it was.
I walked around the base, having almost full clearance to any place, and mainly hung out with the new sea gulls, knowing at least eight of them would be assignned to Sand Island on our return trip.

As I returnned to our private room, Spit was already at home resting in the once-bare cot next to Twitch. Fireball still was not back, his stuff untouched. "Where's the flamehead?" I asked using my new nickname for him since he went crazy at our first comming here.
"Don't know. I saw him acting like a pimp out the window a couple of hours after you left. He had two girls, probably as young as Spit here, walking very close to him." She said mockingly, making fun of how I was always disturbing her and Glass every time they got close. I just decided to leave again and head down to the Crow's Nest, or Raptior Airforce Base's version of a Rec Room.

In there were only about sixteen kids, my age under, all about the same ranks. Airmen mainly, with a few 1st Classes and even a Leute 3rd Class, which I had just left the Leute ranking classes and went into the Wingmen classes, already a 2nd Class.
I was greeted heavily, known now as "The Raptior." Word traveled extremely quick around here, and I don't think the girls giggling had anything to stop that. I was enjoying myself, telling about made-up dogfights and how I had first met Swordsman way back before I could even fly in tight formation and how I got to fly with the Flarz Island Squadron on a normal patrol track one time due to one of their pilots being taken by a cold.

It was late, and I was tell the story of how the captian got shot down after much protest from myself and sixteen boys and girls begging me for the story. It began to rain outside, and I began with "On a normal day, sunny and calm, unlike today. Four protectors of peace took the sky." Everyone became hooked at that moment.
"They had flown in peace for years now, all new except for the lead bird, the one named Heatseeker. He got his name by his use of infrared and satellite lock ons, other than radar and satellite. He was a great pilot, motivating the other three into near-death and conditions not even the greatest of aces would dare even think about flying in.
"Well, the day was perfect. One of those days when the wind seemed to always be at your tail no matter how many times you banked or when the sea is calm as a glass of lemonade and you could fly right over the surface, creating a massive wave behind you to dazzle even the best acrobatic pilots." They were suckers, dragged into my descriptions of what the day started like.
I got to the engagements quickly as a flash of lightening struck. The weather was said to come in, and we were take off right before it left to confuse any Yuke satellites.
"I fired one, and so did Heatseeker. Both hit a different drone. Splashes, directly. Perfect, like God himself wished for us to use those missles as his own. We continued to battle fast and continuously in unision. The thing that made everyone question this engagment, was becouse the whole time we were close, Ubertatic Formation close where your wings almost touched with a two inch sky inbetween them. But, that was not all, we stared eachother down through the whole engagement. We never broke eye contact, even through our HUDs."
I took in a dep breath and let the suspence rise for a few secounds and continued. "We desided to stop engaging as my wingmate and his own were complaining about us taking the kills. We allowed them to finish off the last two." I finished with a foolish tone, with a complementing grin or two with a few signs of laughter about to rise from some.
"Well, after the last drone splashed our radar warnning kept on going off. We were going crazy to find out where it came from, mainly becouse the ship was a neutral, and would come up as a neutral tracking signal." I stopped and sighed. Everyone leaned forward, knowing that something was about to happen. I was waiting for the perfect moment.
"A missle warnning, and everyone broke." I shot up out of nowhere as a lightening bolt came from the heavens about twenty secounds later. By then the suspence was high and a few jumped at my timming. I than went into a rampage, using my right hand as a fighter and my left as the missle while screeming the whole time "My wingmate took a deep bank and found the missle was tracking him and that Heatseeker and I were trying to use Heat Confusion to get the missle on our tails, being that we were mroe trainned for evading missles. Let it be, the captian got his wish." I slowed and sunk back into my indian style sitting possition.
Everyone had a sad look as I said "He got the missle, and made moves no pilot, or Liger, could do." I mentioned to them. A Liger Cockatiel was a drone, a lot of Cockatiels, TyH-58's, were programmed with better areodynamics and having a computer with a device hooking up to a Generali Cockatiel, which had controlled onboard and could act as an independant fighter itself.
"Where did it hit?" Asked a little sparrow in the front row. I thought about how to put it and said blankly "It activated on its third attempt to hit the Captian. It was not direct, but the shards pierced his wing and fuselage bad enough that he could not maintaine altitude." They all thought deeply and one smart girl in the back, I could not see her face to identify her, asked in a snooby tone "What about the Xerocraft, that always work."
"No, it does not always work." I snapped defencivly. I stopped myself from going further in my next comment and tould her I was sorry. "The Xerocraft's engine was also slightly damaged, it would not activate. Before we could do a vertical pickup since one of my squadron members had a two seater, the Coastal Protectorate AWACs ordered us to turn around, that Yuktobonia had declaired war on us." Everyone than feel silent, as in a horror movie when the chainsaw man was nowhere to be seen but you knew he was in the room somewhere.

The next day came and we were tould that we would be staying an other day, that becouse of Fireball, one of his engines was messed up when he threw a mechanic into the intake, put a gun to his head, and was about ready to turn on the engine in a threat not to touch his personal files in the cockpit computer.
So, we were bored out of our minds. I had forgotten about the Flarz Island Squadron's news in the story telling that everyone was doing. Some Sea Gulls there had been through many battles when Driggerville attempted to bring the war to the Atlantic and most of which, Raptior Airforce Base was the lead air support base and was attacked countless times.
Their rantings were amazing, reminded me of capitan. Their skills, unmatchable.

We began to board up and prepair for take-off. The new fliers had yet to learn how to vertically launch, so we had to line up, very much apart becouse of their dangerous taxiing skills, along the six taxiways and four runways. We litterally, no joke, filled up all taxiways with one jet at the launch-end of each runway. Since there were four, the "Raptiors," as we had been called, were to launch first to show them how good we will teach them.
We were to accelerate, conventionally (or like a normal airplane), and roll, or lift up the nose slightly. Our sensors would tell us when the others were comming, and than we would bank. How we are planning it, Fireball and Spit will stay level, since Spit could barely perform Advanced Manuvers, let alone Strategic Manuvers that were far more advanced and skillful.
"Alright Spit, just accelerate at full power and keep your nose down and stay at fifteen feet above the ground." Twitch chanted with him, making sure he did not flip out in the middle of it. "Sand Island, Launch!" I commanded pushing my joystick down and thrust lever all the way torwards the front.
My head felt pressure, but a ramjet is not exactly best for 0-60 performance; more for higher speeds. I stayed level until lift took over my aircraft's nose level and started to naturally roll. I pulled up to 25 feet, as did Twitch right infront of me. Spit and Fireball were down there chanting with eachother "Fifteen feet and flat, fifteen feet and flat, fifteen feet and flat." Kinda made me think if Spit would do it right and if I would have to open up a hole for Fireball to escape through incase he does spaz out.
"Now!" I yelled through the line with Twitch in unison as we both jerked our joysticks to our right and banked violently to the right. The altitude was low enough that we lost no altitude, and I saw Fireball's fighter fly right under me and Spit come from where Fireball was. They made it I thought.

I admediatly switched onto the wing-wide frequency and a lot of comments and wows were comming our way. Even the tower was applauding. I felt good. Not good, great. We reformmed our diamond shape with me in the lead and Spit to my left. Fireball of cource was on my right and Twitch behind me, drawing the Ace of Clovers in our card switch.
That was how we picked who got the 6 o'clock and who got on who's wing. Of cource I always got the Ace of Spades, the lead possition, but the other three aces were split. Fireball got the Ace of Hearts, right, and Spit got the Ace of Diamonds, left. We would have to change our system and just get Twich and Spit to change back and worth for the left and rear possitions since we were now the dominant squadron in the Pacific by sheer luck of Flarz Island being lost and Pealr Island having only one surviver.

"So, who here likes Metallica?" I asked on the Wing-Wide Frequency after we had taken off from a base in Argentina to refuel for the long flight to the most outter island in the Pacific that Truitt owned. It had taken an hour and ten minutes for the whole wing to land and took thirty minutes for us to take-off due to lack of basic skills in lining up with the runway for landing and keeping a straight path while taking off.
"Got any Tupac?" Asked a voice I remembered as Numbah Three. It ended up that the four neucsenses actually was needed in the once Driggerian territory of South Driggerville, which was now North Sapphire, named after Sapphire Island to its south.
That was a touchy place. I had went there once with captian on a routine scouting for any rebels, which still exist. I was walking along the streets in my uniform and was being eyed by every Driggerian I past on the sidewalk. I asked one that seemed to keep staring at me "Is this really North Sapphire?" The worst mistake in my life. The woman, who had two children next to her, hit me square in the face, making my lose by balance. She spat on me and said disgustingly "This is South Driggerville."
Obviously, they were Driggerians to heart and would never switch to becomming a Spartean or Truitti.
"Tupac? Isn't that a bird that died out years ago?" I asked, lining up for Fireball's responce I had just sent him by AOL Instant Messanger that we had installed before we left for Raptior. "No, that was the Dodo Bird!" He yelled sarcastically as half the wing laughed. I guess half was Shiren, or from Portshire, a large island in the Emerald Isles that was african influenced and rap was a major music type next to blues and jazz.
Most of the wing however, was from the northern islands of Windsong and Emeraldia, which were mainly rockers and the state of Bega in Emeraldia's west, was techno. It made no sense, since they were just like the Capitallians and Pointese to their east on the same exact landmass.

The entire wing than broke into a flamming trial of what kind of music was best, which ultimately Heavy Metal Rock won barely to Alternative Hybrid Rock. I looked on the Navigator's Screen and saw that we were about to enter Sand Island's combat radius. Relived, and possably being the only one with Long-Range Detectors Online, switched my Secoundary Frequency to Sand Island's Air Traffic Control, or just A.T.C..
"Sand Island Airforce Base, this is your insanity talking to you. I am asking permission to enter your airspace." I said jokingly. I knew just as I said that, that Twitch and Fireball had switched to the same frequency and that the rest of the wing was playing with their radios and wondering how we got here so fast. I still do not know today how it seemed to happen in just an hour, since it took six hours of non-stop flight and one in-flight refueling to just get to Argentina.

Twitch and Fireball both made a few slight comments of sarcasm, and we awatied their blasting remarks. Nothing. Nothing? There was never nothing. There was always the lead controller and his advisers, the head of squadron operations, and even the base's commander, Screech himself, was all on the same frequency as the tower.
"Sand Island, please return our request." Fireball said quivering in his voice. The entire wing continued in small blables, not knowing of the extremeity of them lacking a quick responce.
"Everyone, switch to Long-Range Detection on your radars." I commanded looking at mine. I still had nothing but ocean and a few birds that were shown on the All-Object Sensor. Other than that, the radar was clean. I saw no ships, and no island. The island was a go figure since its combat radius was far beyond our radar's detection range. That was the price of being a deep-sea island.
"Everyone, complete radio silence. Only front four birds can converse." I ordered agian trying agian at Sand Island. "Sand Island, this is the Sand Island Squadron, the 95th Fighter Squadron. Please respond." We waited for a few secounds, not even three past, when Fireball exclaimed "Damn, something's wrong! Jeww, me and you should go ahead of the formation and let Twitch take command." He suggested.
"Yeah, Twitch, you are in full command of this wing as of now. Spit, you stay cool, alright? The rest of you, slow ten knots to perserve fuel." I gave my last order while me and Fireball banked from our 10,000ft altitude into a back-dive, or when your top is facing down. We flipped around directly at 3,000ft and leveled out.
"Alright 'Ball, lets go Low and Hot." I said pushing my nose to when I hit 800ft and leveled out, him directly next to me. He was nto slighty behind me like usual, but dead-on beside me, something two pilots should never do at such low and fast conditiions. We accelerated to the lowest hot speed of mach .91, which is only a hundred knots below the sound barrier.

We were trainned to do this, as it was something only Truitti pilots could do and others could not. Oddly enough, I loved and hated doing this. One reason for loving it was that water would fly and make a path under me, even if I was 500ft off the sea's surface now, due to the air being pushed at such a high speed. I hated it becouse high speeds ment high tempertures, and our cooling systems were not to be activated without mach speeds or without turnning of the coolant system to our exhust.

We flew Low and Hot until Sand Island came up on our radars which was when we slowed. Twitch, being in the lead of the wing now, was halfway from being cut off by my radar's range, with the outter most fighters barely on the screen.
"There she is." I said, not seeing the island, but seeing its outline on the radar. It was different. Many buildings were not shaped the same, different, and there seemed to be ground movement all over. "What the Hell?" Fireball asked accidentally to the whole wing, when he ment to send it just to me. "What, what is it?" Frantically asked Twitch, very concerned. "Sand Island, something is going on. Tell the entire wing to accelerate to catch up with us." I said slowing as with Fireball.

We litterally stopped at 50ft off the sea's elevation in vertical flight. We were just sitting there. "I'll launch a Sonobouy." Said Fireball as his bottom fuselage, or aircraft's body, openned and a sphere with a line dropped. The line quickly ran out a little after the bouy had hit and sunk in the water.
"What was its set elevation?" I asked, knowing that these waters were deep. "Hundred feet deep, should detect any good combat sub'." He said going quiet as he looked over the readings. I was close enough that I could make his skimming and finger movements.
There was confusion at the wing, and some were afraid. "There is nothing wrong," Twitch kept on reassuring the thirty newbies, "it is just a small confusion thing. This happens all the time." It was a lie. It usually never happened, and when it did, it was over international or hostile airspace, not friendly.
"Whatcha' got, Fireball?" I asked after trying to access the AUSTIN-3 Observation Satellite Network in an attempt to get a ground photo of Sand Island. "Nothing, but there is surface noise, a lot, just north west of Sand Island. Sounds like something zooming through the water and out the surface, probably missles being launched by subs'. What the Hell is going on?" He exclaimed. "The island might be under attack, I am accessing the satellite net now." I said. Both of us just wanted to blaze through the air and to aid our comrades that maybe in trouble, but I was given very detailed orders, as with the other two, to keep the newbies safe, no matter the problem.

"I'm in." I said as Fireball yelled "Twitch, get yo' arzis ovah 'ere!" In his deep Capitallian acsent the three of us had but we hid it very generously. "I'm tryen'!" She yelled in her acsent. When we got really nervous, sometimes we could not stop ourselves.
I sent the request and Twitch was almost within Short Detection Range of Fireball and myself, meanning she was just picking up the jetties around Sand Island that was made durring the Sparty Island Chain War III to stop amphibious landers from getting on land and making them drop their stuff in the 30ft deep ocean, which did not favor tanks and vehicles. That was probably why Sand Island was only attacked once successfully and even than it was a submarine-launched missle that hit the runway.

"I will be resuming command. All units, place full rudder power to your right, now, and active your autopilots to do the same admediatly." I said right when the satellite said it had taken the picture and it was now loading into the server for the oficals to allow it to pass into my computer. I sent a tezt message saying that "Sand Island is unresponcive and we are escorting new recruits."
They accepted it with a message sent with the photo. "Do not engage any hostiles, redirect your path to the Western Plots admediatly, Sand Island is lost." I did not move, or press [CONTINUE] to see the photo. It was like my head just stopped. I could not feel anything. I pressed [CONTINUE] and saw the map. A large force of bombers was comming straight for the island, ETA was set at ten minutes. At least ten craft were seen on the surface heading straight for the jetties. Two smaller aircraft, escorts, were on the flanks of the bombers and a single ship, an amphibious command, was right on the edge of the photo.
I pushed the throttle to 150 Forward, the fastest the ramjet could go, and after hitting 130 knots, pushed in the Pulse Cannon at 8.5+gs. My head jerked back as if I was launching from an aircraft carrier and I flew past the sound barrier with a large boom that I felt like I hovered on for a few secounds.
I heard yelling from Fireball "Jeww, what is it?" and Twitch was equally conserned with "All Units, stay back. Jeww, please respond." She had the same shaking in her voice as Fireball did earlier. "Damnit Fonzi!" Yelled Fireball, which I would new was him pissed off extremely. My radar, or what little was working durring the five minute plus Pulse Cannon activation, showed Fireball trailing me, but still very much beind and me still gainning speed while he was unable to break the sound barrier or risk his ramjet from flaming out due to loss of half of the fuel tank. His ramjet was funny, it never worked the way you wanted.
I kept on going, dangerously at 50ft above sea level and going mach 1.5. At my current rate, I would meet the bombers right before they could visually see the island.

It was getting hot, extremely, even with the cooling system half way trying to keep the canopy below 40 degrees celsius. My head was spinning. I was numb, I could not feel anything. I only knew I had to get to those bombers and possably those landers before they hit Sand Island. My superiors had given up, but I had not.

I kept on hearing yelling behind me, my radio transiver had fallen to the back of my helmet by the force. I still had the Pulse Cannon on, which is really bad. If you hold it longer than half a minute, you could risk your engine blowing on you. I did not care, I rather die than see my home fall. My home I had been at and had barely left for four years.

The escort fighters were comming right at me now from a higher altitude. I had pulled up slightly to meet them and the bombers at 25,000 feet. Obviously, at mach speeds, your aircraft is not too cool so an elementary heat detecter could find me half a mile away.

I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless
Lost under the surface
I don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure
Of walking in your shoes


I firred a missle, without yelling a block number, right into the first's nose and an other heading at the other one. I banked off, slowing right before mach speeds now. Both missles hit them head-on, killing the pilot more than the fighter.
I turnned right torwards the two trailling bombers and started trakcing them as if I was hunting rabbits in an inclosed cage.


[Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow]
Every step that I take is another mistake to you

I locked onto the first, but not fire. I was not thinking. I had no feeling or regret as I usually did with shooting down anything either. The secound trailing bomber locked, and I fired at it, selected the first, and fired agian. They both blew almost at once as I flew right inbetween their metallic remains.

I've
Become so numb
I can't feel you there
Become so tired
So much more aware
I'm becoming this
All I want to do
Is be more like me
And be less like you

I quickly came up to the line of four middle bombers and they all locked on at once, don't know why when they were different in lengths. I waited to get closed and locked onto them. I firred the trigger once, and it sent a missle from inside my fuselage right up the tailpipes to each bomber. These did not explode, mostly they lost a lot of altitude quickly and hit the ocean before I pasted them.

Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly
Afraid to lose control
'Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you

A next bomber came up and I firred two missles. They flew and both hit, blowing the bomber to bits. I just than noticed these were B-1B Lancers, I had nto relized much in my rampage to even notice the radar tracking that was in effect, the amphibious command ship was tracking me and waiting for me to fly a straight line.

[Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow]
Every step that I take is
Another mistake to you
[Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow]
And every second I waste
Is more than I can take

The last bomber came up and I locked. I firred three at this one, an extra for good luck. As I firred them, I banked off as a [Missle Warning] Message came up and everything turnned from yellow to red.

And I know
I may end up failing too
But I know
You were just like me
With someone disappointed in you

The missle blew right behind me in and explosion and I turnned at a head-on cource for the amphibious command ship. I firred rounds like crazy at it, far from gun range, and blindly firred two missles at its deck. Good thing the Firring Arch was accurate, becouse one of the missles hit the Command Tower dead straight, with the other structures on the deck blowing or being severly damaged.

I than flew at 30ft above sea level at 540 knots, still dangerous to do and my computer was not fully working to help me stabilize the wings, and I used my rudders and guns to hit the amphibious craft, I had hit four of the ten directly that I could see.
By now Fireball had caught up, and he, seeing my damage, started to fire on the amphibious craft. They all were off of my radar within two minutes. Had to be a record.

I had calmed down and scanned the area. The amphibious craft was hit more by Fireball and sunk with anti-aircraft missles, kind of funny. Twitch and the recruits were given permission by Fireball to come our way after we finished scanning.
Now in loss of my adrinaline and seeing my engine heavily stressed out, I slowed. I took it appon myself to fly over to Sand Island. We had been in the deep seas near it for some time firring missles and such.

I looked down and was horrified. The island was in ruins. Runways hold to death, buildings on fire and people running out, but the worst was a burnning amphibious craft with two burnning tanks right outside its lowered doors and bodies of dead all along the coast of the small island.
An amphibious ship had landed, made it through, and had a howitzer which was apart becouse of the holes where remains of some bodies were.

"Oh my God." Damped Twitch at the sight. She was not thinking of the island and base as a whole, but that reporter which we all knew and had that large camera and new device that he had yet to complete.

He was not to be seen running as we landed vertically inside craters, which were the only good places to land. I asked Fireball to direct the recruits to Western Plots for me. He did so. Me and Twitch got out of our jets, being overwhelmed by cries and frantic yelling.

Now, I thought, it is personal.

lol, Tag again, I accidently unsubscribed :(