The Loreldian Rebellion: Ch1 Fall from Grace

[GoldenKitten]

In the months preceding the Thirteenth War of the World the countries of the Velaryian continent were broken down into four equally sized super-states. Urobarias in the western peninsula, Loreldia in the central-southern mountains, Mephas in the central-northern highlands, and Amelria in the eastern oceanic quarter. Despite longstanding hatreds between many heads of state the Thirteenth War had left all the minor nations that had been encompassed into the four super states in a site of disrepair. Thus with no way to continue waging war the newly formed super-states served their purpose, defusing tensions eventually to the point that trade and civic political debate could occur.

Eighty years passed but rather than continue to heal old wounds, new ones were opened. The massive peninsula that comprised Urobarias was made almost entirely of sea-level sandy soil. As such the state was at a virtual loss for raw metals and other ground based materials, they had long managed with a thriving crop market but recent years of drought had put a great deal of strain upon them. Mephas was much the opposite possessing a great deal of natural ores buried beneath the highlands but with little usable farmland. The two countries had long traded these goods with one another to sustain themselves, however when Urobarias lost its crop market Mephas refused to continue trading.

It was at this time that the King of Urobarias, Mathew Urobar fell to old age and his son Mathew II took his place. In the days soon after the new king made several wide redefinitions of the Thirteenth Treaty Agreement and how it applied to his super-state, among them was declaring Urobarias an Empire of States, a term that had been avoided since the previous war in which the Herelden Empire of States had conquered a great deal of Uriel's three main continents before being beaten back. After this when continued denials from Mephas continued tensions reached an all time high, and then Urobarias struck.

The timing could not have been more perfect, Mephas had good reason for denying free trade with Urobarias, they were currently experiencing the worst economic crisis since the super-states inception. What this meant was they had virtually zero funding and civilian approval was at an all time low. Unemployment had breached 20% with 60% of those employed making below minimum wage and many civilians actively welcomed the Urobarias occupation allowing them to strike deep before meeting true resistance. Meanwhile Amelria who had long considered itself a completely separate culture from the other three didn't even concern itself with the occupation other than to post defensive units on its borders. Much of Loreldias population were angry over Urobarias breaking of the treaty but an unwillingness to risk their own lives for another state as well as a self-helping government lead to inaction.

Many had assumed Urobarias action had been entirely based on the tensions it had with Mephas as well as the droughts it had been experiencing. Thus on the day Mephas capital fell most in Loreldia and Amelria assumed Urobarias would be sated and cease its march. However unknown to them Mathew II had a grander vision and both he and his army had been emboldened by the relative ease with which they took Mephas. Though peace appeared to be the way for several months as the occupation set in, after five months they finally turned their eyes on Loreldia, meanwhile Amelria still refused to aid anyone else, though they certainly began expanding their own military influence.

Loreldia would not be the easy target Mephas had been. Their economy was strong with few weak spots, equally their military power was in fact superior to that of Urobarias though they found themselves outnumbered after their attackers had absorbed the Mephas military as well. Regardless beyond their strong status they also had a home field advantage, Loreldia's terrain was mountainous with few plains and a chilly biosphere which the Urobarian attackers were not used to nor their machines suited for. If they were to take Loreldia in would not be in the month it had taken Mephas to fall, it would take years if it was possible at all.

At least, that was how it appeared at the time. For the citizens and soldiers of Loreldia they were but a few political decisions away from a fate they could scarcely imagine.

Prelude to the Loreldian Rebellion
Record of the Velaryian Super-State War

- Maria Meischer

------

Boomer: And then I say to her, “That's not my bagel” and *Words broken by laughter* she looks at me and says, “THAT'S NOT A BAGEL!!! THAT'S A BABY!!!” *Continued laughter*

Swordsmith: Boomer, please shut the hell up.

Boomer: Now see, Staff Sergeant, that's why you don't get the ladies, you have no sense of *Radio link cut*

*Radio Silence*

Boomer: Hey, Cub. Since the Staff Sergeant is apparently being a DICK could you ask him a question for me? Why are we even out here? I know we're on patrol but even if those Uro bastards magically make it past the front they won't be in this sector for months! *Long sigh* Big waste of time...AND MONEY! These things don't fly on hopes and dreams you know! Whose bright idea was this anyway? A moron in government no doubt, *Mock voice* 'Oh, we have to appear in charge for the populace. Let's send six expensive highly useful war machines to fly over some mountains with no inherent value. Hoho!' *Voice change, another mock voice* 'HO! You sir, ARE BRILLIANT!!!' *Other mock voice* 'Thank you sir...thank you...'

Papa Bear: Boomer.

Boomer: Yes?

Papa Bear: Be quiet.

Senior Airman Laura Heilig or Beatrix listened to her flight team exchange dialogue back and forth offhandedly. Now Boomer, or rather Seymour Rolf, was yelling some more. Though she kept a constant ear on the radio it was rare for her to chip in unless she had something important to say. It wasn't that she lacked personality or was to serious, she had just learned the futility of chiming in when Boomer was on a rant. She was also in a little trouble with Overlord their radar watchmen and mission overseer back at HQ after a certain string of profanities during a test exercise over a recruits horrid performance made it back to someone important at the capital (and that recruit just happened to be their son). For the time being she was on left rear with Papa Bear - Lawrence Zachson, Aurora 3, on right rear, they both being the senior members of the flight party after Staff Seargeant Horick Lain - Swordsmith and Aurora 1.

Given her position in the flight party she was watching the radar closely. Of course they had Overlord but he was often keeping track of five or six missions at a time so it was often the left rears job to keep on top of second to second changes. There were two others in the flight party, which was codnamed Aurora, a name that had been in service since the forming of Loreldia. Aurora 5 and 6 were their newest members, 5 was Neuman Lais - Layman who had joined a few months back, 6 was Cub or Vance Limbaugh who had only joined since the Urobarias invasion began just over two weeks ago. He'd gotten the name after Papa Bear remarked how he looked like a younger version of himself and after comparison it was found the likeness was uncanny. From what Laura had seen of his records he had some experience in the capital cover squad with one small skirmish with a pirate company though he was no combat veteran, still better than being sent a fresh cadet.

She was mulling these thoughts over as she briefly cast a glance at the snow covered mountains passing beneath them at a rapid pace. To most individuals, even most pilots it was difficult to see anything down there amongst the snow, splotches of brown trees, and gray rock. But Laura was renowned as one of the best shooters in the entire army, it was highly likely she would be transferred to the front lines in the coming weeks, and so her eyes could keep track of it all. She was fiddling with her helmets mask at the moment, she found it incredibly difficult to breathe into the new issue systems that hugged the nose and mouth far to tightly for comfort. It was due to this that she almost missed it but thanks to that great eyesight of hers she spotted a flicker in her peripheral vision and turned to look at her long distance radar.

But a good firm look showed nothing was there. She reached out and clicked the filtering buttons several times to see if anything showed up on extrasensory perception but nothing did. All six of them were flying the newest model AA-47 which among incredible speed and combat benchmarks also had a full array of sensory equipment. Thus she was almost ready to put it off as a momentary malfunction or her own eyes playing tricks with her, however history had taught her to be careful and the area where the blip had been was out of her cockpits visible zone so she turned on the radio interrupting Boomer who was still on a rant. Even he was quiet for a moment, knowing full well she only spoke when something needed saying.

Beatrix: Overlord, this is Aurora 2 do you copy?

*A moments pause*

Overlord: This is Overlord. I read you Aurora 2, what is it?

Beatrix: I just had a radar flicker at...29.30, gone now. Are you picking anything up on your end?

Overlord: Ummmm, that is a negative Aurora 2. Must be a sensory malfunction on your end, I'll mark your Airman down for repair upon return. Overlord out.

Satisfied Laura relaxed back into her chair once again though she was keeping a firmer eye on the radar now. Meanwhile Boomer immediately picked up on it and had a good laugh.

Boomer: See Staff Sergeant? All this bullshit even has Beatrix jumping at shadows! This is so- *Radio link cut*

Swordsmith: Papa Bear, that's on your side. Can you get a visual?

Papa Bear: *Sound of minor exertion* Neeehhhh-No joy. It's to far out to my side. Hold, I'll bank, breaking position in 5...4...

Boomer: This is su -

At just that moment something from behind slammed into Laymans craft. For a brief moment the backside of his craft lifted upward before several fracture lines appeared and then an explosion was released upward. Before Lais had time to eject the degradation had reached the front of his craft and it to exploded in a fiery ball, the craft lost propulsion and began falling toward the ground in a wide arc. It took several moments for a full response but Papa Bear was already into his turn and a moment later calls from him and Swordsmith came out at the same instance.

Boomer: - HOLY SHIT!!!
Swordsmith: AURORA 5 IS DOWN! I REPEAT AURORA 5 IS DOWN!
Papa Bear: BEATRIX! Seven HGP's on your six in four...three...!

Laura needed no further prompting as she engaged her engine to full strength and tried to look backwards. Though she couldn't see them all she spotted at least four of the small guided missiles which had since replaced the weapons of old dogfighters. They didn't take up much space allowing a craft to hold almost four times as many of them as they could of old munitions. They had less impact and so weren't suited to eliminating ground based targets but it didn't take nearly as much force to knock something out of the air, and since you could use more ammunition you could send a cluster at a target making it incredibly difficult to dodge even for those with experience.

Even though they were clearly tracking her the ping of a radar lock wasn't sounding, it was like their enemy could see them but the favor was not returned. They were flying blind but thankfully Aurora was composed of at least four...yes even Boomer...of the best border pilots Loreldia had. Other groups would have fallen into chaos but Swordsmith was already getting order, particularly to Cub who probably needed it the most while the rest of them began improvising. Unfortunately there was no way for the others to get the HGP's off her at this range so she was just going to have to get creative, thankfully she had an idea.

With the missiles tracking her at full speed she reached out and flipped the chaff button, the moment she heard them being ejected out of their sluice she pulled back hard on the throttle. She watched as the HGP's flew past her on all sides chasing after the chaff before they passed it, however they were still armed and now searching for a new target. At this speed transformation was possible if painful and she pulled down on the shift gear, moments later a sickening level of G's were thrust through her (and in fact rare was the cadet who didn't puke the first time they tried this, and that was in much slower controlled conditions). The cockpit whipped up under the protective body of the craft as the wings engaged into the arms of the Airman and the top pulled downward to form the legs. With the transformation complete she engaged the long distance rifle and flipped upside down, she hadn't engaged the jets so she wouldn't make an easy target but that meant she was falling and had to be quick.

Taking aim at the missiles that were still searching for a target to lock on to she carefully aimed down her sights and then squeezed off seven rounds. The projectiles exploded in near perfect unison proving once more why she had been the one issued the expensive and rare high-energy concussive rifle. But the threat wasn't over and she spun once again as the speed she had built up before petered out and she really began hurtling toward the mountains below. She looked off into the direction of the radar blip and her expert eyes found the perpetrators relatively quickly, all in jet form.

It helped that they were painted a bright neon green with a huge red insignia on the side of each, probably fresh from whatever post they had held in Mephas. She took aim and let loose a single burst that crossed the airspace with frightening speed and crashed straight through one of the Airmans cockpits, this immediately sent the remaining enemy Airmen scattering. They had probably expected to pick them off easily, she was sure she had bought them a few seconds at least while the enemy recovered from the chaos of being discovered. All the while she had been doing this Swordsmith was communicating with Overlord.

Overlord: What is going on!? How is Aurora 5 down? I'm reading nothing on all scanners.

Swordsmith: I DON'T KNOW! But you better find out quickly because we're blind out -

Beatrix: Ten Airman, old 44-R's, 29,30 as per prior, alt – 10-15 thousand........Nine now.

Overlord: There is nothing there! I... *Talking to someone near him*, wait, YOU OPENED FIRE WITHOUT CONFIRMATION?!

Boomer: THEY ALREADY FIRED ON US!

Swordsmith: You said 44-R's Beatrix? How could they possibly have radar blocking tech, that's about as old school as you get and still have wings on it...SHIT! *Sound of striking solid surface* Doesn't matter. Everyone align on the correct path, looks like we'll just have to do this by making a visual. Cub you're on me we're moving up parallel 3.8, Beatrix you take the round-about with Papa and Boomer. We're outnumbered here and flying blind so we're just going to have to rely on that good old fashioned Loreldian ingenuity I know you've all got. Lock and load, do whatever it takes to make the kills.

Aurora Squad in Unison: Affirmative.

By this point Laura had reactivated jet mode and after a brief stint of regaining altitude was pulling to the far right side of the volley field. Almost expecting what the Staff Sergeant had ordered Papa Bear and Boomer were closing in on her aft, by this point all five remaining pilots were aimed at their foe. At this level they should all have been attaining visuals but that wasn't doing them a lot of good. Without radar their missiles were just dead-fire, they wouldn't lock on and firing from the front like this the enemy would easily dodge. Similarly once into dogfighting quarters the lack of radar would allow maneuvering bluffs that could usually be read on radar to fool their eyes. It was a bad situation but running was out of the question, the 44-R's were old but they were fast enough to keep up for a while and unleash their payloads in the process, no matter how good the Aurora squad was they couldn't dodge a couple hundred missiles, especially with no radar and so close quarters was their only saving grace.

Overlord: Now hold on just a minute! We haven't gotten free fire orders nor do we know the origin of -

Beatrix: I've got eyes Overlord, the Urobarias national emblem was painted on their wings clear as day...in range in ten, Aurora 2 engaging.

Overlord: AURORA 2!....SHIT!!! *To someone in room* I need the regional air traffic control leader on the line ASAP, GET ME COVERAGE!

Boomer: Aurora 4 engaging. Shit this is INSANE, how are they possibly out here? The border cannons would have torn them apart!
Papa Bear: Aurora 3 engaging.

In the next few moments Lauras group began receiving and sending a hellish amount of fire back and forth. It was a mini-war unto itself and the pirate border skirmish Cub had taken part in probably couldn't even compare. Equally there were all the handicaps currently placed upon them. If a cadet had been given this mission in the simulator he would have thought it was an impossible joke mission from the teachers just to mess with them and teach them “sometimes you just can't win”. Yet here they were experiencing it in real life and the rest of Aurora squadron seemed ready to just charge right in like they expected to get out of this with a scuff or two. Even Boomer the seeming pessimist of the group was charging straight into hell with little more than a flippant complaint.

Swordsmith: Hey Cub you nervous? Well either way don't be, we may not seem it but we've lived through one or two “impossible” situations ourselves. Just stick close to my tail and cover me if you see a possible opening they can exploit and I'll do the same for you. Get read, we're in range in 10...9....Swordsmith, engaging.

[kensei]

Cub:How do you guys put up with it? *A long sigh*

Cub, or Vance Limbaugh, said as Boomer continued on his rant. It resulted in a few laughs from some of the other pilots and Boomer going on the defensive a bit, but it didn’t stop him for long. But Vance certainly understood where Boomer was coming from, it seemed an odd place to patrol especially with one of the best fighter squads. But orders where orders, and you either quit the military or you went with them. And quitting the military wasn’t much of an option at this point.

He looked around a bit as questions addressing the radar came about. Cub was still a pretty green, he hadn’t really been paying attention to his radar or anything. Not that there was apparently much to see, that was until a missile slammed into Aurora 5’s back.

Cub:Oh fuck. LAYMAN!!!

He yelled as Layman’s craft exploded into flames. It seemed as if time slowed as he watched it happened. Vance was on the opposite side of the formation as Neuman was. He had been the easiest to meld with the last two weeks as he was still pretty new to the group himself. And now he was just.. Gone.. Gone before he even got a chance to fire back.. What the hell just happened?

He breathing became a bit more erratic as it sunk in that they where under attack. He gulped a bit before looking over to where Betrix had been. He stopped breathing as he watched her take out the seven missiles with such precision and accuracy it looked as if she was the heroin in some big budget action movie. Just who the hell are these guys? He thought to himself as Swordsmith started giving him directions.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He thought to himself as he followed Swordsmith’s orders. His hand shook a bit, Damn it. he had had the same problem during the pirate skirmish. He was a good pilot for someone who was hardly out of the academy, he was alright in Humanoid form, but at the start of a battle he just couldn’t stay collected. The other pilots where already engaging the enemy or devising a plan, but he was still having to be babied threw it. Damn it.. Damn it!

Swordsmith: Hey Cub you nervous? Well either way don't be, we may not seem it but we've lived through one or two “impossible” situations ourselves. Just stick close to my tail and cover me if you see a possible opening they can exploit and I'll do the same for you. Get read, we're in range in 10...9....Swordsmith, engaging.

Cub: Thanks Swordsmith. Let’s get these bastards. Aurora 6 engaging.

[GoldenKitten]

Two Airman charging at each other was not something to be underestimated, each was teasing the sound-barrier at the very least and some could clearly pass it. At those speeds even the slightest mistake could tear a craft apart in the blink of an eye, no violence necessary. That was why as the Aurora squad closed in on their targets a sort of calm silence set in, even Boomer was perfectly silent, each realizing complete focus was necessary. They were waiting for a certain occurrence, they were playing chicken with war machines filled with explosives at over a thousand kilometers per hour. And then it happened, what they had been waiting for, five of the craft had made in the direction of Laura's group and four toward Swordsmith, the group charging Beatrix opened with a volley of missiles which again could track them even if the radar ping wasn't there to tell them.

Beatrix: Boomer two o'clock, Papa ten.

They initiated affirmatives in unison while Laura once more slammed on her flaps and the moment she hit safe velocity she threw the transformation lever. This time it had been even faster not wanting to give their foes anymore heads up than necessary and so the craft was thrown into a once over spin before auto-correction jets leveled her steady. She quickly took aim with the scoped rifle and began letting shots fly as fast as she could, with five of them firing the air-space was filled with well over two dozen HGP's. Even a crackshot like her couldn't hope to take them all down but that wasn't the key here, she just had to give Boomer and Papa some breathing room. Half a dozen missiles went up in the first few seconds though she missed just as many, but when your target was a kilometer away and the size of a soda bottle that wasn't bad.

Beatrix: Boomer free fire, Papa break to nine, not clear.

The squad moved in perfect unison with Papa Bear breaking off his attack path and Boomer moving into his. Naturally several missiles were still headed in his direction but at his speed he just had to throw up some back chaff and the projectiles went wide. With the path essentially cleared Boomer pulled a crazy stunt which really seemed to be Aurora's motto but his especially, he slammed on the transformation way above stress grade.

And while that could have horrible consequences involving your craft shredding itself mid-air in this case it held together and the next moment he had slipped past one of the enemy Airman and inserted a close quarters blade whereupon it exploded in a shower of sparks. The trouble with Airman in close quarters was you had to be very careful about what connected, the weapons connecting was one thing but the appendages of the humanoid mode were still vital components in jet mode. If something important was damaged at best you were taking a long walk home and at worst you were gonna die, flying was one thing but close quarters battles required another level of skill altogether. On the ground you could be a little more aggressive but in the air getting locked up in a true blade battle could be fatal for both combatants.

Laura traced the missiles which had banked after Papa Bear and brought them down one at a time. She informed him he was in the clear and he brought on his breaks before he too entered humanoid mode. One of the craft had been tailing him and this was where they had made a fatal error, the 44-R's simply couldn't keep up with or transform as fast as the AA-47. Papa Bear leveled his shorter range burst rifle and filled the foe with several shots before it finally exploded in a fireball hurtling to the ground below. Likewise after using his blade to take down the first Boomer had used his own burst rifle to take out a jet formed foe from below. Three down, two to go, what could have been a mess had quickly shifted in their favor thanks to more advanced technology and good planning. Still by now the remaining 44-R's had transformed and one thing they had in their favor was a greater deal of forward plating in this form.

It wasn't going to save them though as Laura opened fire and sent a shell straight through the cockpit of the lower of the two machines, she attempted the same with the second but it caught it with its forward bulk. One issue with this plan was that she had been living on borrowed time, with a few more seconds she could have removed her foe but she didn't have those seconds. While she had removed a great many of the missiles the ones which Boomer had bypassed had begun searching for new targets, and the only target in front of them was Laura. She removed four more by shooting them but three were still on their way and the range was such that if she missed there would be no second chance.

Thus instead of testing her luck she performed a transformation into jet form and did it in such a way that the nose was pointed upward. With almost zero thrust the craft immediately buckled and stalled, the weight of the nose and the power of gravity pulling it backward in a sickening loop before plummeting toward the ground with the missiles in hot pursuit, in the old days cutting the engines would have broke their lock but these days losing a target lock dead stop meant shutting down all electronics which was simply implausible in the air. Even for a professional it could take a full minute ground side to perform an emergency boot up. You might be able to glide for that long but you'd be dead from being a sitting duck long before that was done.

Once in a fall the mountains below grew in size with fierce speed, a non-military craft would have been spinning out of control but luckily the dimensions of the craft made it easier to keep on the line by maneuvering the flaps. She counted to five in her head and when the altimeter hit just over a thousand she began flipping the engine switch rapidly, it would cough and sputter but refused to start. The warning alarms started going crazy as she broached five-hundred and then finally the comforting sounds of the engine. Still even a veteran like her was experiencing more than a little firm heart beating as she pulled hard back on the stick. Her breath caught in her throat as the nose slowly pulled up, then leveled out and finally began to work its way up, she didn't dare look at how low the altimeter had gone for she feared she knew the answer. The plan had won the day though as while in the moment she had missed it a quick check showed several scorch marks on the mountainside behind her.

Boomer: *Loud laughter* Cutting it a little close are we Beatrix...and they call me the crazy one. Nuh-uh.

Boomer cracking jokes could mean only one thing, they had finished off the last of their opponents. Sure enough they were nowhere in sight but Beatrix had other concerns as she made the transformation back to humanoid form and began hovering in place. She pulled out her rifle and started looking for Swordsmith and Cub. It was sometimes difficult to realize how much they relied on radar but in this state it didn't just make it difficult to fight enemies, you couldn't even find allies. With craft that could cross a dozen kilometers in under a minute battles could be out of range before you knew it. But finally she found them a thousand meters higher than them and a kilometer out. She and Boomer seemed to have found them at the same time also coming to the same conclusion, he just happened to voice it.

Boomer: OH SHIT!

True to his word the Staff Sergeant had lead them in with a calm demeanor fitting of his status despite the overwhelming odds. They charged in headlong toward their foe much like Beatrix group though they didn't have her sharpshooting skills to cover them. Still it seemed unlikely that Swordsmith was just charging in without a plan, you didn't command a team like his without some sort of history to back it up. Just before they entered firing range the enemy apparently achieved lock-on and fired upon them with a volley of a dozen missiles.

Swordsmith: Stay calm. Keep your course straight. Our missiles are useless as is, so, on the count of three I want you to unleash your entire weapons payload in their direction. Nose up now or you'll hit low without guidance. After the firing stops count to two, fire chaff.

The missiles were almost on them.

Swordsmith: 3...2...1...open them.

At the same time as Cub was supposed to Swordsmith unleashed every missile he had as well. This wasn't something you often saw because flying without a locking system just wasn't something that ever happened, so in most cases it was a waste of ammunition. But watching it was spectacular and rocked both aircraft like a truck with no suspension climbing a rocky hill until their payload was expired. The sky was lit like fire before them as their several dozen missiles connected with the dozen guided missiles headed toward them. Then counting to two, Swordsmith popped chaff out his back as too should Cub and a moment later it became apparent why as three missiles that had survived the onslaught flew past them going for the chaff. Those missiles would continue searching for a target but there were no friendlies in the direction they were headed and it typically took a HGP 40 seconds from initially losing a target to perform a full turn and reacquire a target behind them.

Swordsmith: Begin pulling back on the throttle, the moment you pass through the dust cloud initiate transformation. I'll be taking the target at 4, there will be one to my back at 7, he's yours. Use your machine-gun, can't risk close quarters like this. After that there will still be two others, but you'll have to use your head then because battle is all about adapting. Things will happen to quickly and I can't guide you step by step. Good hunting.

They breached the smoke wall, Swordsmith a bit ahead of Cub and instantly the sound of weapons fire sounded out from the other side. As Cub passed through he found that their enemy had already transformed and Swordsmith was exchanging fire with his target, luckily their vehicles greater speed won the day. He dodged several shots and returned fire with his own machine gun, after riddling the foe with multiple bullets it's left arm fractured and collapsed causing a chain reaction that cut some key component. The Airman didn't explode but some crucial engine component was hit and its hovering capability simply came to a dead stop as it fell out of the air, after five seconds the enemy ejected. The Aurora group knew this was likely futile, even they were only equipped to survive the icy mountains for a day or two, maybe a week at most if the individual was hardy. The warm blooded peoples of Urobarias probably wouldn't last half that, especially because it was doubtful they had been provided proper survival kits.

At the same time Swordsmith had been downing his foe Cub had been tasked with the same for his opponent. The way they needed to be approached was much the same, the 44-R's just didn't have remotely comparable maneuverability in humanoid form. Thus it hovered in place trying to fill Cub with continuous pumps from its pulse rifle before he could return the favor. There wasn't much strategy to it, just skill, Cub had to dodge fast and strike back in a matter of seconds before his foe struck a critical blow.

When it was over they should have still had foes to deal with but they were nowhere to be found. Swordsmith immediately went on guard and told Cub to do the same, constantly relaying back and forth whether they were seeing anything. Then it was spotted and Swordsmith called out for them to climb, engaging jet mode and taking off ahead of Cub. Whether he should consider himself lucky or not was an uncertainty but in the next moment the two bandits flew straight past Cub, instead in pursuit of Swordsmith, perhaps picking him out as the leader. It typically took five seconds from engagement to achieve target lock and with two foes on his tail it was highly unlikely he could shake them no matter the aerial acrobatics performed. Though he might be able to buy some time Cub had to get after them fast as by the time he was on them they already had several seconds lead trailing Swordsmith, though with only forward machine guns to work with it was going to take a miracle to do what needed to be done as it would have been a challenge even for a skilled veteran.

Six seconds into their climb one of the bogeys was suddenly snagged right out of the path. Though there was little time to watch Papa Bear had made his way clear across the battlefield and thrown his blade lance style into the forward contact, this knocked it off to the side before it exploded in a shower of fire. However being in humanoid mode they had soon left him behind and he couldn't possibly catch up in time. In the next few seconds several explosions went off behind Cub, a quick look showed that the missiles that had initially been diverted had finally been returning to strike a target. Now however they had been vaporized in mid-air and though Beatrix was nowhere to be seen she was certainly the reason, then the com was flooded with dialogue.

Boomer: OH SHIT!

Beatrix: Dammit, Cub's in my line of fire. You have to get him Cub, get him now!

Papa Bear: Just line up, point your nose a bit higher, squeeze the trigger. Calm down.

Swordsmith: I can't shake this guy much longer. Just do it like Papa said, you can't be worried about anything else. Just line him up and pull the trigger, save the worries for later. Calm, focused.

Boomer: WOULD YOU JUST PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER CUB?!!!

[kensei]

Cub: Confirmed.

That was all he said as he watched the volley of missiles fly at them. He pulled back slightly on the stick, pulling the nose up as he listened to the count down. Fire he told himself as he unloaded his missiles. Letting his full payload go rocked his plane fiercely as he was sent a bouncing in the cockpit. He fired chaff two seconds later

Cub: Good luck Swordsmith

He said as he pulled back on the throttle and entered the dust cloud. His hand gripped the transformation lever as he waited to clear. Right as he passed he pulled down, pulling the high G transformation. His stomach tossed, but thankfully didn’t come up as it happened.

Cub:Oh shit!

He yelled as he slammed the craft to the right. Dodging the first hale of bullets coming his way. He pulled up his machine gun and unloaded a small burst, some of which slammed into the enemies head and caused a chain reaction explosion. By the time he had finished off his Swordsmith was done with his. The others couldn’t be seen as he was told to go on guard.

Cub:No visual. Huh?

He responded as he was told to climb, he didn’t question it, but it did take him nearly a second or two to register and begin transformation. His heart was pounding as he took off after Swordsmith and the two planes tailing him. He was several seconds behind him, and that was a lot of distance in these crafts. Shit shit! He thought as he activated the after burners to catch up. His plane rocked as he was pinned to the seat, he was in gun range now as he started to line one up. However, before he could pull the trigger it exploded into a shower of metal. A glance to his side reviled that Papa Bear had been the cause of the explosion, leaving Cub with only one to take out.

The explosions underneath him where a testament to Betrix’s prowess with a rifle. Despite being out of sight she had still managed to save Cub’s ass. No time to think. He reminded himself as he started to try and line up the other Airman. That was when the coms where flooded with people trying to tell him what to do or yelling at him. (boomer.) His concentration was broken as he yelled back.

Cub: SHUT UP!!!

They seemed to be taken back as all went silent and he finished lining up his target and fired. Several bullets struck his engine and a few his wings causing him to fall out of the sky as Cub continued to fill him with bullets, breaking off at the last possible second to avoid the craft as it exploded. The explosion pushed Cub’s craft as the fire rolled across the underbelly of his jet. It only lasted a brief second given the speed at which he was now traveling. But in that second, Cub felt fear for his life. It ended with his craft still in one piece and him still flying it.

Cub: *long sigh of relief* Enemy neutralized. Anybody have eyes on other hostiles?

Cub pulled back on the throttle a bit as he followed Swordsmith. His hands where shaking and his foot kept spassing causing it to kick against the floor of the cockpit. Damn it.. Even now I can’t calm down. He thought as he looked at himself. What the hell is wrong with me?

[GoldenKitten]

In between the moment when Cub was lining his shot up and the trigger was pulled you could have heard a pin drop. Not literally of course but there was an obvious tension in the air felt by all members of Aurora as they waited with bated breath. When the guns finally roared and the bandit brought down there was a brief moment in which none of them could speak, then it was as if a collective holding of breaths was released all at once. Naturally Boomer was the first to drop out of his reverie and make his thoughts known.

Boomer: HELL YES! THAT'S WHAT YOU DIRTY BASTARDS GET! Good on you Cub, shit I've gotta buy you a drink...or do you drink? Shit I don't know you're really little *Hearty laughter* Yah, that's how it. is. DONE. One peg up at a time Cub holy shit...one peg up at a time.

It seemed Boomer may have been the closest to having a heart attack of them all. Beatrix and Papa Bear gave him more muted congratulations though it wasn't out of lack of respect, it was just their nature. Those two were highly skilled and would never have delivered praise to someone they thought undeserving so unemotional as it came across Cub should have felt a certain degree of pride to be acknowledged by them. They didn't pile it on in excess as they knew pride was what killed fighter pilots so it went unsaid but truth be told Cub had pulled off a feat some Veterans would have failed at. Naturally there had been a degree of luck but it said great things about his future potential. But after they were done the Staff Sergeant finally came on, his praise was muted as well but likely held the most weight at the same time.

Swordsmith: Guess I owe you one now green. You keep flying like that and maybe I'll let you cash it in for a new moniker.

Overlord: I take it the bogeys are down Aurora Squadron?

Boomer: Oh...right...forgot you were there.

Swordsmith: That is an affirmative Overlord, we will be returning to base shortly.

Overlord: Please do, we are having problems with our regional radar. We don't need to take any more chances with you in the air with targeting down. You may be willing to chance your luck, but I'm not. Return on vector 44,3. Overlord out.

Swordsmith: Everyone pull back into formation, Boomer you're on tail for now.

There was a certain sort of finality with Overlords words. Typically once the mission was called off for a return to base that meant returning through friendly air space to the closest thing a pilot had to home. Thus there was the potential, even amongst veterans, to relax when they shouldn't upon receiving the callback sign. Through hundreds of sorties this was the safe period when the pilot sat back and simply guided themselves to base. It helped that they had, had such an overwhelming victory in the face of high-stakes odds. Even with the radar down this natural reaction set in, so the Aurora group could be forgiven for the momentary slip of concentration that lead to Boomers sudden discovery.

Beatrix: To bad about Layman though.

Swordsmith: It could have been any one of us. With the radar and associated lock-on warnings offline nobody could have reacted in time without a healthy dose of luck. He just happened to be the first targeted, if it had been me I'd have suffered the same fate. He was a good pilot, when we get back to base the first thing I'll do is submit a request for posthumous promotion to First Class.

Papa Bear: That would be the proper thing to do.

Boomer: But you all seem to be taking the weirdness a little bit in stride. Why has the radar gone down? I mean, that's a big deal! Plus we still don't know how it's possible the fighters even made it here, it's possible they breached the border patrol but there are a dozen anti-air defenses between here and there. Old models couldn't possibly have made the journey and wh-OHOHOHO WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!!!

Naturally Boomers sudden change in tone had everyones head on a swivel, but it didn't take long to discover what he had spotted. It was now blatantly obvious that the radar/lock-on blackout was Urobarias doing, though with central command being deep inside Loreldia it was frightening to imagine how this had occurred. To avoid visual contact the craft had clearly been moving through the deep mountain trenches, displaying a level of geographical tactical use they had not expected their foe to pick up on so quickly. But there was no denying the behemoth rising from below them to sit virtually on their tail but a klick away. It was a floating reconnaissance cruiser and while in the world of armored battleships it was on the lowest tier it could still easily outgun a half-dozen flight squads.

A hundred meters long and bulbous like an old world zeppelin only made of heavy armor and black as night. It could be armed in a number of ways depending on the mission but the short version was it had no shortage of ways to eliminate them. Beyond that it could carry five fighters in its hanger and up to ten if it had the fuel reserves to perform a fueling cycle, in other words the squad they had eliminated was likely theirs. Its mass meant even with the enormous thrusters that kept it afloat it was still far slower than them, but it made up for that by having a wide attack range.

Swordsmith: Overlord! Overlord we have a Uro Reconnaissance Cruiser on our six, I repeat again on our six, contact was made heading in your direction.

Overlord: You...WHAT?! Oh good crap, it's really happening.

Beatrix: Ummmm...Overlord feel like filling us in?

Swordsmith: No time! Everyone proceed out of field, burn heavy straight on, putting as much distance as we can between us and their main gun is of first most importance!

Aurora squad began a collective rapid acceleration of their engines but most of them knew they were still well within range of the cruiser. It had dozens of heavy anti-aircraft guns that made the “pray and spray” tactic entirely viable, worse yet it had a single large accelerator cannon that was essentially an instant-contact fire control, the slug it produced traveling at over Mach 4 and instantly shattering whatever it hit. As they continued on their escape vector an unknown com signal barged into their collective, it soon became apparent it was the Urobarians.

OES. Chordata: This is the OES. Chordata. To all Loreldian pilots in current air space, you have willfully broken the Urobarias/Loreldian Peace Treaty by opening fire and murdering proud honest Urobarian workmen. By the grounds of the treaty you are sentenced to death.

Boomer: WHAT IS THIS GUY ON ABOUT?! THEIR THE ONES THAT BROKE THE SUPER-STATE TREATIES!

Swordsmith: Doesn't matter, get out of this airspace. Now!

Beatrix: Staff Sergeant that main cannon is taking aim!

Sure enough it only took one good look at the flying cruiser to tell the gun on it's underbelly was angling. Those guns had a range of well over ten kilometers and they were at best six kilometers away when it had lined up its first shot. When it fired time seemed to dilate as the flash reached them but the slug, being far faster than sound would already be on them as well. Papa Bear and Swordsmith were silent, Beatrix shouted something about the firing trajectory, and Boomer...Boomer just let out the longest cuss word of his career. At the moment of contact a black shape raised up behind Cub and in the second before contact Horick Lain could be seen through his cockpit giving his squad, and Cub in particular a thumbs up, as if to say “Guess we're even now, huh?”.

Then the super-sonic shell ripped through Swordsmiths Airman like a sheet of paper. Though it was a ballistic projectile you'd have thought it was made of energy the way the aircraft disintegrated into a billion particles in an instant. He'd been so close that the flames and shrapnel engulfed the back half of cubs jet form for an instant before the lost speed finally caught up with the craft and whatever remained of it was lost to view behind them. Yet his sacrifice had not been in vain as he had likely known, the shells fired by the accelerator were highly unstable and while incredibly powerful once they made contact they broke apart just like whatever they hit. And so while Cub had certainly been its target he managed to escape the entire affair unscathed, physically at least.

One moment he was one of the best fighter pilots in Loreldia, the next he was gone and his remains a kilometer behind them.

There was a cold pause in the air as the reality of what happened sunk in. Beatrix and Papa Bear were Senior Airman, Boomer was an Airman First Class and as such they had seen far more death than Cub. When Layman had perished they had certainly felt anger at their foes but probably considered it an unfortunate loss and not a tragedy, that was how you had to think when you were in the military. They probably thought themselves beyond extreme remorse over the loss of a comrade, but then they had never lost an individual they had been flying with for at the very least years. Thus none of them could really stop themselves from calling out to him in their various ways though by the time it had escaped them he was long gone. Of the three Boomer immediately threw on his transformation and they had to be witness to a miracle not to break apart at the super-sonic speeds they were proceeding for a second time that day as he turned about and began opening fire with his pulse rifle.

Boomer: HORRRRIIIIIICCCKKKK!!!!! - YOU GODDAMN BASTARDS!!!

Beatrix: You moron!

Naturally a short range weapon like the pulse rifle wasn't even going to reach the target. Even if it had been close enough the caliber simply wasn't built for bringing down something like a cruiser. But despite what one might have thought given their seeming relationship Boomer had in fact been flying under the Staff Sergeant the longest, but as per the usual Papa Bear was a source of reason which was probably where he got his name though it had never been said.

Papa Bear: You aren't going to get anything but dead if you keep doing that. Pull back, there's nothing to be done now.

Boomer: SHIT!

Beatrix: Shit, EVERYONE DIVE! We aren't going to get out of range in time, get down in the mountains until we're out of range GO!

It was an order that sounded a lot simpler than it was. Loreldia was incredibly mountainous but they were over the Ryker Heights, not only the highest range in all of Velaryia but also the steepest. The mountains were often thin and spindly with large clusters in a small area meaning there was very little room to maneuver which was a problem at the speeds they were moving. Even at minimum air speed one wrong decision could still see you as little more than a pockmark in a rockside. But when faced with flying in free air-space with a gun pointed at you that could rip your craft apart faster than human reaction speed could possibly move it was the less suicidal of the two options.

Beatrix went into a steep dive with Papa Bear in close pursuit as they pulled below the mountain lip about seven kilometers from the cruiser and to the side. Without being directly on top of them the cruiser had no way to hit them with it's main cannon though it tried, firing once more and blowing a massive summit off a nearby mountain just as Boomer fell below the fire line. With no way to hit them with the accelerator the reconnaissance craft instead began peppering the mountainside with anti-aircraft fire, some of which made it through the cracks and crevices in the mountainside. Beatrix navigated the winding gulley's between mountainsides with deft accuracy though even she could make a mistake at any moment and only fast eyes and faster responses kept her from clipping a rock side. She just prayed she didn't take a turn only to find nothing but a wall before her, naturally the others followed right after her as breaking from that path only increased the chance one of them ran into a dead end, it was all or nothing.

And then they were out, it had all occurred in such a short period and yet it felt like an eternity. The Chordata had eventually stopped firing when it became obvious there was no effective result and after traveling the mountains for a full minute Beatrix knew they had reached the safe zone, the cruiser might see them in the clear skies but it couldn't shoot that far. So she brought her nose up, finally ceasing the harrowing journey through the narrow valleys and launched back into the beautiful blue sky, though it had now lost some of its luster. As if to enforce this once they were all out and safe on a track back for base Boomer let out a loud bestial shout, he was a big man and probably prided himself on being a mans-man. Yet he had just lost the only true friend he had ever really had, two massively different emotions warred within him tragically and he didn't know how else to express himself.

Laura took a deep breath, finally allowing the battle tension to temper itself though unlike before she was no longer allowing herself to be eased into a false sense of security. She was calmer but she was still on pins and needles, watching every inch of sky like a hawk. This was a bad day and not just because of the losses they sustained, the presence of Urobarias units this far inland meant bad things and her mind was livid with the myriad of possibilities that could yet make this day worse. The sooner they got back to base the sooner they could figure out what was going on, thinking of this reminded her to call in.

Beatrix: Overlord this is Aurora 2...do you copy?

Overlord: This is Overlord I copy...you don't have to say it Aurora 2 I heard the comm chatter.

He was probably trying to be nice but Laura had kind of wanted to say it out loud. That the Staff Sergeant was gone almost felt unreal, she thought putting words to it would sort of let the reality sink in. But she respected his attempt at kindness and didn't push the matter, there would be time for that groundside.

Overlord: I'm going offline now. You all need to continue on return, we'll leave a landing coordinator on the runway for you. Get back as quickly as possible.

Boomer: You're going offline! What the hell is going on?!

Overlord: Look I don't have all the details yet and we need you here. By the time you've returned I should have the story in hand, right now the General is requesting aid from me. Now, I'll see you when you get back.

There was a pause and it was clear Overlord had left his station at this point. Something bad was about to happen, they could all feel it, but none of them knew quite how to put it into words except to voice the occasional confusion, which naturally nobody else had an answer to.

[kensei]

Though they couldn’t see it Cub had a smile a country mile wide plastered on his face as he was thanked. His heart swelled with joy and a bit of pride as Swordsmith was indeed alright. He flew back into formation. He sighed once more as he closed his eyes, trying to relax a bit. His body started to calm as the adrenalin started making its way out of his system.

Cub: Layman was a good guy…

Cub said as he was mentioned.. Cub had hardly known the guy, or at least that what it would probably seem like to the others. He had only been around two weeks, so his words probably didn’t carry much weight. But in truth he knew Layman better then he knew anyone else in the group and so his words where as heart felt as anyone else’s might have been. Not that those words where really sentimental or anything.. But still...

However, it appeared they couldn’t just linger on there fallen comrade all the way home. No, those damn Uro bastards wanted to make today a living hell for all of them. The Cruiser appeared on there Six as they tried to make there way home. Damn it..

Cub:This day just keeps getting better and better doesn’t it!

He yelled as he pushed in the throttle. His heart was racing once again as the Uro Reconnaissance Cruiser appeared on there ass. He took long breaths as he tried to calm himself. Panicking would be the worst thing to do right now, he had to stay calm and he had to keep moving. That is what he told himself as they tried to put distance between them and the behemoth. That was when the unthinkable happened. The Cruiser fired, Cub looked back and time seemed to slow as the shell neared him. He resigned himself to death, that was until another plane flew behind him, and Horick Lain was giving him a thumbs up. No. He thought as the shell seemed to disintegrated Aurora 1, rocking Cub’s Airman in flames as part of the shrapnel hit the glass of his cockpit, causing a small crack in it.

And a second later Horick was gone, practically a mile away as the plane traveled past super sonic speeds. Cub couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even move as it all sunk in.. That.. That should have been him.. That should have been him.. Tears came to his eyes as he clinched his fists as hard as he could. Had it not been for the gloves he had on he would have been drawing blood at this point.

Cub:We have already lost two people damn it! Don’t be a third Boomer!

He managed to yell out as Boomer fired at the Cruiser with his pulse rifle. He looked back as Betrix yelled out “dive” only to find himself about to miss the point. He slammed his throttle back and turned on his flaps as he pulled a high G turn before slamming back on the throttle after the group. It was a standard move taught at the academy, though it really wasn’t used in standard flight often.

Despite the fact that he was able to turn better then normal his thrusters still made a slight mark onto the mountain as he went down, trying to level out and stay clear of the small spire like mountains. It was probably the hardest flying he had ever done in his life, he tried to match Betrix and Papa Bear’s movements, but even so it was hard to copy two Aces. But even so he had managed to make it threw the Mountain pass until they where in the clear to move back up.

Stale tears remained on Cub’s face as Boomer shouted out in rage and sorrow. Cub sighed as he looked back, trying to keep an eye out for anything that might be out there.

Cub:How the hell did something like that get this far in?! How did it get past our defenses? And what if its heading for base?

He said as the endless possibilities flew threw his mind. Just what the hell was going on here? How did the Urobarian’s bring down there radar? How where they expected to fight without being able to lock onto there targets? How could their military hold if this was affecting every battlefield? Damn it!

Cub: DAMN IT!!!

[GoldenKitten]

The four of them didn't have a great deal to say to one another as they made their way back to base camp. They were stationed at Fort Vanderleid, the single largest outpost in the Ryker Heights and the thoroughfare for most northwestern troops headed toward the front. Despite its importance the base itself was hardly a sparkling jewel of Loreldian architecture being little more than a large row of runways, an air control tower, several barracks, hangers and air defense towers. It did have one unique facet though, a refueling dock that could outfit any class of Air Cruiser.

This dock was currently home to the LSS. Aves, a massive super carrier that made the Chordata look like a bug being a marvel of modern engineering. A kilometer in length and with a diameter to match it was the sort of thing people had been dreaming of for ages but which realistically didn't seem possible. Hundreds of anti-aircraft cannons and eight of the same accelerator cannons they had been on the painful end of just prior, it was an offensive juggernaut. It also housed the ability to carry and launch six dozen fighters though as far as Laura knew it had not received this repertoire yet and only had one standing squadron. It had not been the first Cruiser she had ever been witness to but there were only four other super carriers out there so it had wowed her, not to mention it simply didn't look like something that should be able to take to the air.

It could be seen from over seventy kilometers out, which was odd...because it shouldn't have been. It was supposed to be powered down for refueling and in that state would have blended in with the sheets of white before them being gray itself. Yet it was lit up like a beacon, its many window ports clearly beaming with orange light as well as bright blue streaming runner lights along its outside repair catwalks. It was certainly a sight to behold but it only added to the suspicious situation and Laura was beginning to get an unnerving feeling that she knew what was happening, though until they touched down and learned more she wasn't going to say a word.

Boomer: What in the world? They aren't supposed to be operational for another two days.

At just that moment they passed the fifty kilometer mark from where the Aves was docked and their instrument panels went mad. The whine of guidance systems, the belated shrill of a warning alarm, and the boot up noise of the internal aiming computers. It sent them all into a wild frenzy searching for the cause until they realized it was simply their radar and lock-on systems reactivating. Perhaps they had fixed whatever issue had occurred though the fact that it happened right as they passed the fifty kilometer threshold seemed odd. Over the radio Laura heard Boomer smack his dashboard.

Boomer: OH YEAH! Turn on now why don't you!

But there really wasn't much else to say now, at the very least with their computers operational it gave them an excuse to busy themselves instead of making small talk. Several times as they hit the appropriate distance barriers they sent calls to Overlord but just like he had said they only received automatic landing coordinates in return. At ten kilometers they received a close proximity radio call from a ground unit in place of Overlord that talked them in, though of course most of them had mastered the art of landing ages ago and the wind was the only factor they really needed to take into consideration. Of course the only certainty when flying was that there was no certainty but in this case it went smoothly without a hitch.

The complex maneuverability of Airman meant the more they were switched out the more fuel they used, thus it was rare for a squadron that saw combat to return with equal fuel percentages. They were thus landed in order based on how close they were to drained. To no great surprise the turns Boomer had pulled put more than strain on his craft, though far from falling out of the sky he was still well past the halfway mark which was virtually unheard of except on long combat operations. Cub came in next, nobody said a word of course but his inexperience probably lead to making turns that a veteran would take with more grace, thus saving fuel. Papa Bear and then Beatrix followed, this didn't make sense at first seeing as she had transformed second most but beyond her simple skill with the craft hers was also the lightest owing to better mileage. The rifle she carried was just over a hundred kilos lighter than a MG and almost two hundred lighter than a Pulse Rifle, similarly she only had a single fifty kilo blade on board instead of multiple, lastly due to the knowledge of her frequent transformation fighting style armor had been removed from joint-points (up to the possible limit of military standards) shaving an extra seventy kilos. All in all her craft weighed quite a bit less than the rest thus requiring substantially less fuel to remain in the air, of course the reason everyone didn't do this was because it could put her in a real bind if she wound up in a close quarters confrontation.

By the time Papa Bear was coming to a stop on the icy runway Boomer and Cub had already landed and pulled into their respective hangers. Laura angled her nose down and raised her break flaps. The ground side technician eventually came on and kept yelling at her about coming in to quickly with to steep of a descent, she just decided to ignore him. Overlord was familiar enough with them that he wouldn't have commented as she was known for a number of piloting quirks, most pilots had them her big one just happened to involve landing. Laura hadn't been taught at the capital academy like the vast majority of pilots instead being taught at Lake Raleigh past the Ryker Heights on the Amelrian border. Thus she had been taught by roughhead ace pilots instead of strict by the books instructors, this lead to her using less tight styles than others and had been one of a variety of tweaks that got her in trouble with the superiors. Either way the landing technician was about to squeal his little head off five seconds before touchdown.

In the second hanger Vance would be going through his post-flight checks like any good pilot before exiting his craft. As he pulled himself over the side of the cockpit and made his way on the rungs of the pull-down ladder he had just reached the ground when something slammed him from the backside. He would have basic combat training like any military member but the strength of his attacker was incredible and he had been taken off guard. He was spun around but was quickly grabbed by the throat and slammed against his Airmans fuselage with enough force to give him a headache for the next day or two.

Standing before him and gripping just hard enough to not choke him but enough to make it difficult to think and react was Seymour, or Boomer. Boomer was a large black man of considerable bulk for a pilot (he barely fit under the height/weight specifications required) with a military crew cut and unique honeydew hazel eyes. Like everyone else he was in the Loreldian flight officers uniform though his helmet and gloves had been left back in his aircraft. Boomer was known for being jovial and lively, even when he didn't like you he typically smiled and responded sarcastically instead of being outright hostile. But this was not the usual Boomer, he was glaring at Vance and gritting his teeth with such force you probably could have heard them if they hadn't been struggling and the powerful wind hadn't been blowing outside.

Boomer slammed his free fist into the hull right next to Vance's head with a bang, “DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG?!!! TWENTY YEARS!!! That's how long I've been flying with Horick! While you were still stacking blocks and being your mothers little princess! AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?! Taking advantage of Horicks goddamn need to be a hero, it should be you who was fucking vaporized out there, NOT HIM!”

At that moment Laura's aircraft had landed outside and was now pulling into the hanger next to Vance, the sound was such that Boomer didn't hear the approach behind him. The next moment a fist had landed full force against the side of his face and much as he took Vance by surprise the strike sent him reeling almost to a fall, releasing Vance to the ground in the process. Before he could recover Lawrence (Papa Bear, but unlike Boomer he was typically known by his real name groundside) had raced over and gripped him by his collar before getting into his face. The eldest of the group, Lawrence was already almost sixty and if he hadn't been in such an outlying base would have been forced to retire long ago. His once blond hair was now growing shades of gray, while his youthful features that were echoed in Vance were now blocky and aged...the resemblance however remained.

“What are you doing!?” he growled, “You think the Staff Sergeant would approve of blaming him?” he had released one of his hands and pointed at Vance when he said this before releasing him completely and backing off. It should be noted that Papa Bear never cursed, in the air or on the ground.

He waved his hands and spoke in a more neutral tone, “Be mad, but for Orel's sake be mad at the people who did it. If their already here you can be sure we will be seeing plenty of action soon enough, you'll have your revenge.” He slapped Boomer on the shoulder, the large man looked down at Vance before nodding at him as if to apologize before they both walked away. This might have seemed like the time for a proper apology but naturally it was doubtful Boomer had completely lost his anger just yet so Vance would stay silent if he knew what was good for him. Lawrence had likely ignored him to try and drive this point home without saying anything.

They had disappeared out of the hanger when something kicked Vance's leg though gentle enough not to be threatening, “He'll get over it, don't take it personally.” He would look up to find Laura standing over him with her hands held on her hips.

Or maybe it was more accurate to say standing “slightly” over him even with him on the ground...Laura was REALLY short though anyone who had the balls to make a crack about it had long since lost them. She wasn't quite a midget but only a few genetic tweaks had saved her from that fate because she was only 1.3 meters tall, which wasn't tall enough to save her from occasionally being patted on the head to annoy her. She was in her early thirties, thirty-one to be exact and while she was and had never been exceptionally pretty she was still far from unattractive as well.

Of course what chances she did have to appear as such were shot down given her blatant tomboyism, always wearing the same unflattering jumpsuit as the rest of them with her blond hair cut high. Even by short hair (for military girls) standards hers was low with only a few dozen centimeters giving it any body at all. Few knew her family history but growing up in a border town her grandmother had been Amelrian and she had a natural olive complexion not really seen in Loreldian genetics, similarly her eyes were a pale blue being nearly amethyst which was again not common in Loreldia (96% of the Southern Super States population had a variety of brown shades, the second highest number at 3.X% were shades of green). If a central Loreldian knew her family history they would have lost interest (most inhabitants of all four super states were a racist lot except on border towns) but without knowing such things most of her traits were found desirable for their uniqueness raising her “number” substantially. But knowing her personality she'd have probably killed a man before he had time to make a move on her.

She moved ahead of him toward the hanger entrance and looked back as she shook her head toward the open doors, “Let's go find out where everybody is...and what Overlord was being so melodramatic about”, it was true, the brief aggression had made them forget but there should have been a dozen mechanics on standby just ready to give their craft the once over the moment they landed. But it had been empty and silent except for them and it only took a brief look around to acknowledge nobody was here.

They moved out on to the runway and headed for the main command center. Though the falling snow was light by this locations norm the temperature was insanely low and they weren't exactly in heavy spelunking gear. Laura was used to it enough to make her way without a word but being fresh to their location Vance was probably freezing his bunnyslippers off, Laura giggled to herself at this thought. This didn't keep her occupied for long though, Horick was still on her mind as well as the obviously foreboding nature of Overlords last words and the emptiness of the hangers. As they walked across the tarmac she couldn't help but notice that every other hanger they had was empty when at least two of the other flight teams should have returned from patrol before them and one other should have been on base at all times. She said nothing though, perhaps she did not want to frighten the Cub, she didn't really know as she was a mystery to even herself sometimes.

There could be no question that the Aves was coming online now, since their initial sighting a dozen new running lights had powered on. It loomed behind the command center standing as tall as a dozen flight towers and a subtle but consistent vibration hummed beneath their feet and anything else that happened to be anywhere near the base. As they entered the command center they found a man named Lewis, Overlords attendant, waiting for them and caught up with Boomer and Lawrence who were speaking with him in the process. They must all have been wearing the same questioning looks because he didn't waste time getting down to business.

“It was Mathier Clautz.”, he stated simply before he turned around and walked inside, beckoning with one hand for them to follow.

Both Boomer and Laura put their face in their hands at the same time and echoed the same sentiment in tandem, “Ah, crap”, Boomer continued with a, “I knew I was right!!! Why am I always right?!”

Mathier Clautz, one of the three Prime Cabinet members under the young Princess Nikita Loreldia. Loreldia was a aristocratic monarchy, it still answered to king or queen but the times were changing. In this case the Prime Cabinet had been elected when the previous King Loreldia was killed and his successor was only four years old at the time, incapable of making decisions. The two other electees were long standing royalty who for all their faults had the countries best interest in mind, but Clautz had been a “come from left field” candidate.

When he had been elected cries of foul and false results had echoed nationwide and in preceding years many conspiracy theories sprouted about him, not the least of which was that a particular assassination attempt on the princess had financial links to a company he owned. In time the gripes brought about him were forgotten by all but fringe theorist, but even then few would have argued that this was a man that wanted power. More importantly though was the fact that in one year Nikita would be sixteen, at that time she would undergo the Right of Succession and the Prime Cabinet would be dissolved. In the years preceding this it had been no small secret that much of the free market stocks were being bought up by certain larger entities, for a time it went unsaid but eventually the media caught on to the fact that they were linked to Clautz. Within an hour of the discovery the story was silenced and without any form of free global information network the number of those aware wasn't as large as it should have been.

But little action could be taken as being a monarchy he was the closest thing they had to a king. The other Prime Cabinet members worked in the princess favor but it was long predicted that on the day of succession a civil war would break out, whether it would be invisible or outright was hard to predict. Either way amongst certain branches of the military (depending where they were stationed and whom was in charge) there was either widespread trust or mistrust in this man, Vanderleid was the latter. Naturally they all expected something to come of it someday, but not now. And if what Lewis words suggested, that he had something to do with the Urobarians, well, then this day was about to get far worse.

However they weren't able to ask any questions as before anything consequential could be said Lewis had lead them to the cafeteria (Which was really warm...mmmm, warm). Typically it was the last place you wanted to be, it wasn't cleaned nearly as often as it should have been and was one of the oldest rooms in the facility which had raised up around it. Right now though it was apparently the gathering spot for every person in Fort Vanderleid, about six dozen or so ranging from accountants to mechanics, though again Laura quickly noticed the rest of the pilots were not present. Those who were here were all listening to a rather tall man in his twilight years with pained expressions as he spoke. However as they entered he stopped and looked at them, the rest of the military men and women did as well and a sort of muted cheer echoed through them as if they were impossibly glad to see them.

The man was General Henri Christe, commander of the LSS. Aves, in other words far higher in status than anyone else on sight (by about five ranks, even then there were only ten Generals in Loreldia at any one time). General Christe was third after Generals Hunter and Redarte for possible election to one of the soon to be vacated Master General positions, from there it was typically a short hop to Chief General of the whole Air Force. Laura couldn't help but remind herself that amongst many rumors surrounding Clautz one of the most prominent was that one of his greatest behind the scenes detractors had been Christe previous General and upon his death and Christe ascension, Christe himself. This would make a possible plot that involved eliminating the Aves sensible, because it meant eliminating Christe.

He was what you would expect out of a general that had to appear before the public as much as control an army, the perfect gentleman to a fault. In his early sixties he was the model Loreldian high society man, stark white mid-length hair combed back with a flat Generals cap atop, well built and healthy despite his age, his military clothing that tended to make most look plain pressed and adorned to a startling degree. Laura had only met him offhand, the General had apparently taught with Horick at some point and they were something of friends. So of course when he had arrived Horick had introduced his flight squad (or at least the three of them that were permanent members) but it had been little more than a salute and a polite exchange of pleasantries before they were left behind so the two men could go reminisce. Still from that small talk Laura at least got good vibes from the General, he was at least polite instead of looking down on them simply for being mere Airmen like many higher-ups liked to do.

He approached them and they saluted, he returned the salute before nodding his head dolefully, “It is good that some of you made it back.”

Laura had feared the worst when she had seen the empty hangers but couldn't stop herself from looking to Lewis for confirmation, he nodded and piped in, “August, Hollowman, White Ranger, and Dragoon squads all stopped sending communications. We aren't sure of Hollowmans status, they simply stopped transmitting though we have to assume they were victim to a more organized preemptive attack, Dragoon contacted us after engaging the enemy but we haven't heard anything since. August and White Ranger we have confirmed down, they stayed in communication while it was occurring. August who was on site was going to White Rangers aid so that's why they are not on base.”

Boomer's eyes went wide as he held one hand to his forehead, then with the other attempted to count the numbers. Lawrence took a deep sigh before he sat down in the nearest chair available amongst the old food trays, he was too prosaic to say it aloud but some of his best friends were in Ranger and Laura had an inkling that he and the female flight lead of Dragoon were seeing each other. Laura couldn't help but be taken aback herself though she less readily showed it, she had expected something bad from the start but this was borderline apocalyptic. Six in August, of course two from Aurora, ten in Dragoon, four in Hollowman, and five in White Ranger. Twenty-seven Airman, most at the hands of veteran pilots, that was the sort of force that could hold air superiority over an area for three or four months barring an unimaginable attack force. Or, it seemed, just being in the wrong place at the hand of wrong politician.

Christe continued at the halfway point as to bring Aurora up to speed, “At 1320 as you know we lost radar and lock-on. It took some time to put the pieces together but we also lost wide-band radio at that time, luckily close-band is localized so we could still contact units in the field. We assumed we were just having mass communication failure but it was shortly after when some off-duty workers complained to the maintenance staff that we discovered civilian radio and moving-pictures were out as well. Multiple landlines supply these various formats, the only way they could possibly be cut all at once is if the capital was in the hands of the enemy or it was ordered to shutdown.”

This must have been the point he had reached before because renewed complaints and suggestions began popping up from those gathered in the room. Laura could understand, while certainly painting a bad image of what was to come this was hardly proof of something malicious involving themselves and not just the Urobarians occurring. Certainly all the days oddities piled onto one another pointed toward more going on than could usually be explained, but that was hardly enough info to start making assumptions either. Those were the thoughts many were already voicing, Laura was smart though, she wasn't about to start asking questions when her superior clearly wasn't finished with what he had to say, this was visualized by him raising a hand for silence.

“Thankfully the men selected for service in both one of the most hostile work locations in Loreldia as well as one of our largest and most prominent cruisers are not, how would you say, chumps. Utilizing Overlords communication board and the Ares long-range receivers we were able to tap into the local principalities civilian chatter. This among other things proved that this was not a nationwide blackout but a specific chosen blackout. But rather than explain in words we've recorded what was found, it should be clear at that point.”

He turned around and motioned to a man of unremarkable character that had been standing behind him the whole time, “Richardson, please.”

The man retrieved a tape and proceeded to place it into the player hung beneath a moving-picture player that hung from the ceiling. It had probably never played something so serious in its life, more often than not it was used for playing moronic comedies on late evenings to amuse the off-duty pilots. Laura doubted she would ever be able to remember it as such again, looking back this was where it had all really began.

A previously black screen flickered to life and after a stop-pause the video kicked in. It was a recording of what had obviously been a news broadcast as the angles changed several times. The yellow Loreldian hawk insignia spinning in the corner and lack of commentary marked it as an official government broadcast. Standing front and center was the man of the hour, Mathier Clautz in all his glory. In his early sixties with a gold encrusted white court button-down jacket that dropped to his ankles and a perfectly curled and powdered wig he was the model aristocrat. Standing to his left was Timier Schmit the Sanctified Lord of the West, to his right was an unknown man in the upper-class uniform of Urobarias, his insignia ranked him as their equivalent of a general though.

It was all clear before it occurred to most of those in the room, though certainly without the knowledge they had most of the country would have been watching with bated questions. Timier Schmit, a man of the cloth, one of the two highest priest of the ranking religion of Loreldia. Though in theory Loreldia had freedom of religion the truth was that 97% of the population was religious to some degree and 98% of those believers belonged to Oreliaty. Most others were unofficially denounced, typically being looked down upon by the general populace at best and sometimes being driven out at worst (every year there were several related deaths, particularly in rural areas where image was easier to maintain).

Named after the belief that James Orel, a king of old that united half the known world under a thousand year reign of peace and was a messenger of the “Divine One” had his lineage proceeded down into the royalty of Loreldia that would one day give birth to a new messenger. (A keen historian would note this had flourished from a previous religion that had it's roots and claimed the same thing about one of the smaller countries that eventually made up Loreldia but most of this was unknown to all but the highest of the clergy.) This effectively made Timier Schmit and his eastern counterpart, Horrel Le'voure, as if not more powerful than Clautz himself. Schmit held more sway with metropolitan believers, Le'voure with the rural caste. One was enough to sway civilian worries but if he had Le'voure speaking for him in the next few days it was a sealed deal.

Sitting on an elevated podium in the background, behind a polygonal dome of bullet-proof glass sat Nikita Loreldia. As she became older she was a beloved icon amongst both civilian and military groups. At fifteen she was cute now and would certainly be beautiful one day, this and a soft spoken but intellectual style gave her star presence that attracted most people. Then there was the fact that she was apparently sporting excellent numbers in her political and military training (both areas all Loreldian royalty were trained in as they were meant to be more than figureheads) which made her popular in the military. Whether this was fabricated for good PR or true was anyones guess but given the general show of intelligence she gave when speaking she was either a brilliant actor or the numbers had a firm base in reality.

With long black hair that probably would have reached her knees if it hadn't been tied into three twisted ponytails and held up by a jeweled circlet it was certainly an appearance no girl living outside a castle could have kept up. Additionally she was wearing the traditional white and purple robes of the royalty that were to extravagant for words and could have taken a verbose and observant describer the better part of an hour to explain. One thing was clear though, she was not happy. It was not yet evident if she was complicit in the current situation but her typically cheery demeanor was instead replaced by a half-smile she was surely just putting on for the cameras. At the very least she was not pleased with how the situation had turned out, whether some bargain she made had fallen through or she was an actual hostage in this was something only time could determine.

Clautz had stepped forward and brought his hands up in an encompassing manner, “Countrymen and women of Loreldia, I bring excellent news! News at an unfortunate cost, but with an ending that shall benefit us all.”

He lowered his hands and backed up slightly, “As you are well aware our gracious neighbors the Urobarians are on a grand journey, one to unify all of Valaryia under a unified and free banner. Naturally this meant having talks with us, unfortunately some self-interested parties under Prime Cabinet members Meureau and Sephix were determined to hold power and set us on the course for self destruction. The superior forces of Urobarias which any intellectual individual would know were beyond our capabilities to defend against were unfortunately forced to destroy the border bases of Aering Hill, Nordak Straight, and Forts Gerole, Rickshaw, and Vanderleid during their initial entrance. This all due to the Prime Cabinet members unfounded and egotistical pride which they have been ordered to death for.”

There were a number of hisses and boos from the crowd, as well as an overall sense of stunned awe. In the cafeteria of Fort Vanderleid there were several who seemed completely confused, but the greater half of them were showing growing unease, especially when Vanderleid was mentioned given that they were still very much here. This explained why Meureau and Sephix weren't there to stop this, it had been carefully orchestrated so their public opinion would be shot in the opening minutes. There would of course remain loyalist to their cause but Clautz had played his cards well, to general conclusion they would be something of traitors if Schmit was going along with this. If they hadn't been captured already they would be branded traitors and wouldn't be able to show their face within a kilometer of another living person. Equally while the comment about their military being weak was an obvious lie it was not one the civilians would catch, the military in the capital being mostly cadets wouldn't catch this either.

“But rejoice! I along with Princess Nikita Loreldias permission have come to a safe and peaceful conclusion. Having entered talks with Mathew Urobar II's Loreldian advisors we have come to an end that both suits Urobarias majestic plans while leaving Loreldia with the self-capability it is rightfully entitled. In return for merging with Urobarias and aiding them with our military power in the future we have been allowed to retain full political, economic, and religious control of our nation. The only extra stipulation being that Sir Evan Carpenter, standing here with me, be allowed to listen in on matters of state. All of which we believe to be fair and just stipulations when the alternative is a short but devastating war for us.”

There were fewer negative replies this time from the crowd, even a few positive cheers. People were easy to win over even if they knew something was inherently wrong if you promised them their current situation would either not change from it's current good state, or would improve.

“As you can see by his presence next to me the Church of Oreliaty has given its official stamp to the Urobarians. That marks this journey as an official holy crusade, the first in quite a time. Relax, for your future and prosperity have been assured! As always your government watches out for you, please now, let us hear a word from the Urobarian env-”

The TV snapped off and General Christe was standing before them all with a deathly morbid and serious face. Laura patted her temple several times as she ran the matter through her head, it was a coup and it wasn't a quiet one either. They had taken measures to cover themselves from negative feedback that was for sure but Clautz was making no attempt to hide the shift in power, his history was public enough for anyone with a brain to realize the princess was little more than a talking puppet now. Similarly while Clautz was in control for now there was always the possibility of a full annexation now. But Christe didn't give them any extra time to think these things through as he tossed it out there for all to see.

“It goes on but I think you all understand now. These men do not work for our country or its people, the fact that they would sacrifice us is proof enough of that, Clautz works towards his own motives. Now the only question left is what you will do? It's not over as you gathered, his story can't very well hold water if we aren't dead, the attack could come at any moment. Thus I and those aboard the Aves have agreed, we will fight back. You should decide if you will join us...but before you decide I will tell you this, should we make it there is a chance that your loved ones could be used as a deterrent. If you think this will burden you or us then it is your prerogative to stay or go, but then there is no guarantee that choosing to do so will stop that from occurring. Those are the truths of the matter and now you have been informed. I am returning to the Aves now, in ten minutes we will begin final flight procedures and lockdown, you should make your decision before then.”

As he turned to leave Boomer added, “But what about the radar and lock-on, why do we have it now?”

Christe looked at him and ignored the lack of proper leadership protocol, probably realizing the current state of affairs, “Much like we were able to tap into the network we are emitting a radar frequency directly from the Aves that coincides with your flight computers. This isn't very efficient as it only works at a range of about fifty kilometers but at current is our only option.”

Laura spun her hand around on her wrist absentmindedly as she stepped forward catching his attention before he could turn away, “Alright fine. I suppose if we can get the Aves in the air we can put a nice dent in the probable incoming attack, maybe we even escape. But supposing we did that what do you plan to do? One super cruiser for all it's strength isn't going to fight a war, and even if that was the plan it cost money and fuel to keep you going, that doesn't just magically pop out of thin air. Make no mistake sir, I'm with you if you've got a plan but if this is just a blaze of glory thing I'd at least like to know.”

Christe took a deep sigh as he clasped his hands behind his back, “To the former I cannot say, until we have appropriated the full depth of the situation I can't go making plans...but when that time comes I will make one, I'll make that promise. But funding, well that I can answer, you were one of Horicks veterans so I think you might have an idea as well, he was no fan of Clautz. I am far from the highest ranking individual who didn't trust the man but if we can escape to safe air space there are funds that have long since been put out of reach for just such a scenario that can be made available to us.”

Laura placed a hand over the lower half of her face as she watched him for any signs of untruth. Either way it wasn't like she was just going to let herself get offed, but there was some comfort in knowing that Christe was at least attempting to get out of this and not leading them in a foolish headlong charge. At the same time her mind was traveling to the faces of a dozen family members scattered around the continent, most in Loreldia, not the least of which were her parents. But at the same time she knew there was truth in what was said, if the Aves did escape with or without her it wasn't like the government would know who was part of the rebellion or not, they'd just take everyone involved. Rebellion? Was she already considering it that, she supposed that's what it would be if they escaped the inevitable snare but it was a sign she had been in the military far to long if her brain could process such inhuman concepts so quickly.

“Hell, my folks are retired in Amelria and you're kidding yourself if you think I'm letting the bastards that killed Horick off without at least taking a few shots at them before I'm out” Boomer chimed in wasting no time voting in his agreement.

Lawrence stood slowly from where he had been sitting with a smile on his face, “I'm old and all my close family were pretty fiery pilots anyway. You know what they say, there are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots.” Lawrence trying to crack a joke and cheer them up? The world really was about to end.

Laura watched them tap the back of each others fist to one another before speaking, “I'm in,” she snapped a salute to the general, “I look forward to seeing just how bright you are General.”

The general actually laughed instead of becoming angry, “As I would expect from Hori-”

He never got a chance to finish as the ground rocked beneath them and the entire building shook about, the roof cracking and dropping bits of plaster on top of them. Whatever it had been was close enough to almost end them right there because the shockwave continued rolling for several seconds while the building attempted to settle. During this time some of those present scattered while crying out and a few even jumped under tables, those more used to combat just stood where they were, well aware there was nothing they could do to escape their demise if they were under direct fire. But no secondary explosion occurred and just as Christe was pulling his radio out a familiar voice spoke out over the broadcasting system, likely from aboard the Aves.

Overlord: Five LRM's (long-range missiles) were just taken down by the automatic defense systems, one made it past and hit the stations barracks. We're reading more on radar, you need to get out of there and – oh shit. OH SHIT -

“What is it Major Griffith?” Christe asked calmly into his radio.

Overlord: OH SHHHIT!!! There's over a dozen incoming! We have bombers as well and the lookouts are reporting movement in the hills, we may have ground armor. ETA. 2 minutes, we need to move, now!

“Calm down Major. I am on my way, Lieutenant General Falls, you have command until I arrive,” an affirmative was given as he once more turned to the three pilots and Laura in particular, “Senior Airman Heilig I'm promoting you to Captain for the period of this operation. Unfortunately we only have our cadet contingent we were carrying from the capital and had yet to pick up our veterans at a forward base, six planes. That being said you'll be in charge of both squadrons out there, can you do that?”

Laura smiled, it wasn't because she was calm or certain of herself but because she knew there was no other option, “Of course” She stated as the three gave salutes and then turned to walk out, she looked over to Vance just before disappearing and asked, “Your choice Cub, you coming or not?”

Behind them the General made his way out presumably toward what was an entrance to the Aves. For some it took no time at all as they were fresh on his heels, others took a moment to consider but reached the same conclusion, in the end only two men remained in Fort Vanderleid when it burned. For country, for self-preservation, for the future, it didn't really matter what their reasons were. The choices had been made and there would be no turning back from this point forward, war was here.

As they moved swiftly through the halls Boomer yelled out to Laura, “Beatrix! I know you've got family living here and what he said is true, are you comfortable with this?!”

She grimaced to herself before looking over her shoulders and yelling back, “If we fall here then that won't be a concern, if we live on then the chances are that would occur whether I joined up or not. Better that I give them a shot full of hell for it than just letting it occur without action.” It was cold, and dark, and she knew there would be those who would always think she did it for herself but in reality her words had been truth.

But there was no more deep thought or speaking from then on, there was only quick and decisive action. Boomer raced ahead of them and broke through the swinging doors out into the cold air, their targets were to far off to see but battle tension already filled the air. Off to their left by only a hundred meters the barracks that had been struck were burning in all their fiery fury, it was a good thing they had collected everyone because if anyone had been there when it struck there would have been no survival. Halfway across the runway as they charged for the hangers where their Airman were stored the automatic turrets kicked in releasing endless volleys of ear shattering rounds toward the southern sky, they automatically firing on anything without a friendly IFF signature and so not requiring radar-lock like an Airman. Several explosions went off in the sky before a single arrow of fire streaked past them and hit the air control tower, even as battle hardened veterans they had to stop and stay low to keep from tripping as the building fell and heavy tremors pulsed.

Laura pointed toward the far hanger and yelled toward Vance as to be heard over the noise, “There are two extra Airman in there, old AA-32's but better than going up without missiles. Go!”

They split up at that point, Boomer and Lawrence headed for hanger one, Laura for two, and Vance for the extra hanger at the far end of the field. Even as combat pilots it was difficult to tell how much time they had left but it didn't take a tactical expert to tell the first volley would make it before they got into the air. Almost as if on cue the fifth hanger directly next to the hanger Vance was headed toward exploded as the ceiling caved in and a large fireball plumed skyward, further away at least two more LRM's made it through and smashed into Fort Vanderleid, one almost straight into the cafeteria where they had just been. The automatic turrets were made for defending against attacks of this type, the fact that they were incapable of keeping up with the number of projectiles was proof of the scale of what was headed their way.

Laura reached the hanger at about the same time as the rest of them as she turned into a veritable rocket engine herself and practically flipped into the cockpit. She performed proper fuel mixture procedures to insure she didn't blow up when she flipped the ignition but otherwise she skipped about a hundred other “required” preflight preparations. If Overlord had been watching he'd have chased her with a large stick for the indiscretions committed, but honestly there was no time. However it occurred to her that while it seemed rational some might forget and so flipped the com switch.

Beatrix: Everyone ready? For fucks sake people this is not the time to be performing goddamn preflight checks like this is an asshole air show, get yourselves moving now!

Overlord: I HEARD THAT!

Boomer: Heeeeey~~~! I wondered where you went! *Laughs* Looks like Beatrix stopped caring about your ban on her cussing.

Looking at her radar it was hard to believe what she was seeing was true. There were dozens of fast moving projectiles headed from both the Southern airspace and farther North and East. Riddled amongst the small fast signatures were slower large signatures, doubtless the bombers. While the LRM's were certainly the biggest immediate threat to small structures like Fort Vanderleid and their own Airman, it was the bombers that would take down the Aves if they could get overhead. But they couldn't be ignored, they would still do damage and it was unlikely they were flying without fighter cover. All in all this meant there were countless dangers of all varieties and they weren't even halfway armed to counter it all.

LSS Aves: Aurora Squadron this is the Aves. It will be another five minutes until we have cycling power, we can't utilize our air defense cannons until that time. I'm sorry it's the best I can do, keep us safe until then. Good hunting.

It was clearly General Christe voice, either way Laura could do little but curse the situation. They'd be lucky to hold this off for thirty seconds, much less five minutes. But there was no use complaining, either they gave it their all or they just died at this point. Wasn't much in the way of debate as far as that was concerned.

Moonshadow: Aurora 1 this is Moonshadow, er, Darkfire 1 of Darkfire Squadron aboard the Ares we will be in the air in ninety seconds, mark. We've been told to defer to you, what is the plan?

Beatrix: Darkfire you know your people best, you decide who to send where on my orders. Boomer you're protecting the automated defense turrets. Papa Bear you're top cover on the southern approach I want three from Darkfire working with him. Cub I want you on the north, Darkfire one of you is with him. The rest are covering east and flying general top cover, I'll be providing ranged support from the center. These orders are not absolute, deviate as necessary, if the Aves doesn't get off the ground we might as well just shoot our fucking selves while we're at it.

There was a general affirmation from each unit as Laura watched as Papa Bear was the first on the runway, Boomer wasn't far behind at a distance that under any normal circumstances would have been borderline suicidal. By the time they were surely in the air Laura accelerated the throttle and then prepared her flaps as she flew out of the hanger on what seemed a crash course for the now burning Fort Vanderleid, she would have been upset but right now surviving was what was important, anger over the loss of her longtime home could wait. At the last moment she angled her nose up and threw the transformation lever. Ground level transformations were something they never ever suggested, they taught them for emergency situations but in the end at any altitude lower than a hundred meters it was all-to-easy to lose altitude quickly and plow into the ground.

But they needed someone firing as soon as possible, in the time it could take to be airborn and get a bead on the targets a dozen more LRM's could get past them. It proved the right decision though as Laura managed the maneuver, skirting the ground by three meters before her thrusters kicked in and she was hovering. Naturally even at ground level an Airman still had to fly, they weren't made to support their own weight on their “legs” despite the form of the body. As soon as she was turned around to the south her radar-lock filled with its max target limit of eighteen and there were clearly more than that. Still rather than obsess over the gross disproportion of power here she instead began targeting the nearest LRM's and blowing them out of the sky.

Beatrix: Overlord three LRM's down.

Overlord: Oh, that is grand! Perhaps you didn't notice there are A GAJILLION MORE!!!

Beatrix: Calm the fuck down dammit!

Overlords name had been given to him for ironic purposes, when away from the action he was a fine radar specialist, he wouldn't be where he was if he hadn't been. But when put under the gun himself he panicked and broke more radio violations than any of them he normally complained about. In person he was also a small and unassuming man who couldn't intimidate his way out of a paperbag, so one day when he was being particularly bossy about someone breaking orders they had adorned him with the name, it stuck.

A fireball exploded from the other side of the Aves interrupting their little spouting match. As if to remind them this wasn't like all the hundred missions before it.

Overlord: We've been hit! Minimal damage to lower outer hull. Aurora we need cover, we aren't going anywhere if one of those hits a critical area, that was too close to the lower ballast!

Beatrix: Cub get the fuck north now! I can't cover everything and some of those LRM's are going to be coming down too low on the horizon, I won't be able to see them past the Aves. Time to shine or die bitch! Darkfire where in the shitstorm are you?!

Ah, she'd almost forgotten the therapeutic qualities of cursing while flying.

Moonshadow: We're launching now, airborn in 10, 9...

A pure white snowscape that might come right out of a children's fantasy novel was the setting of this mismatched struggle for survival. The skies were trailed by comets of explosive fury and the ground trod by war machines of steel, incoming fire came from every direction, it was hell and was without a shadow of a doubt, truly impossible. And yet, it could not begin to compare with the battles that were yet to be fought, and the story yet to be told. The Rebellion of Loreldia was about to begin with the soldiers of the LSS. Aves and Aurora squadron at the blades tip.

[Tagz]

This was some bullshit. Damon (though groundside is more often referred to by his last name “Clayton”) had already been debriefed on the situation of the government. He’d already made his decision to fight. Clayton, though seemingly calm, was a covered, boiling pot ready to overflow. Though he had a thousand and one thoughts on the situation and on Mathier Clautz, this wasn’t the time to voice them. They were prepping to launch into action. The Aurora squadron had already engaged the enemy and it was their turn to follow suit.

Remove Control Lock
Check Ignition Off
Master ON
Lower Flaps
Checking Fuel Gauges
Fuel On
Master OFF
Ignition ON

In his haste, a man with hazel eyes and dark brown hair breezed through the most basic requirements of his pre-flight checklist. First Lieutenant, Damon Amery Clayton took one final, savouring puff of his cigarette before tossing it out the plane before slamming the framed window down over his cockpit. A deep breath, this was going to be a hell of a day. Perhaps they were rushing to their doom. Maybe they were waltzing in the jaws of death. These thoughts sent a shiver of excitement over Clayton’s entire form. This was nothing but a game for the foolhardy lieutenant. I mean, he didn’t exactly have much of a family to return to. Should his vision blacken and a white light appear before him reading the words “Game Over”, it wouldn’t be much of a loss. After all, he’d already lost two fingers (though it should’ve cost him more) due to some reckless stunt on ground patrol little over a year ago. Enticed by the perverse amount of opponent’s he was to face, Clayton was rearing to go. Being first off the runway, his commander’s voice rang through the intercom.

Moonshadow: Bad Hand, I want you north with their “Cub”. Snap to it!

Bad Hand: Tch, no please?

Moonshadow: GO!!

Bad Hand: Yea, yea. I gotch’ya.

Amidst a mildly annoyed façade, Bad Hand was bubbling with anticipation. Zipping through the air at appalling speeds piloting a jet black AA-47. Clayton streaked northward at a breakneck pace. Cub, who was already in position, would no doubt spot the out-of-place pitch black Airman racing towards him. Clearly for one to pilot such an easily targetable coloured aircraft, it was clear that Bad Hand was usually the decoy in varying missions. He was more used to performing various tricks, spins, and other forms of aerial acrobatics in order to evade and successfully lead prey to their desired destination. Frontal attacks, though not particularly new to the lad, were certainly not his strong suit. However, currently, this wasn’t the time to focus on such irrelevancies. It was time to ride or die!

The max amount of targets were locked onto and already being gunned down by his rotary machinegun. Also equipped with long-ranged weaponry, Bad Hand was blessed with a greater striking range. Should the bombers enter within this striking range and his current partner-in-arms was not in a position to deal with the imposing threat, he’d bring them crashing down in a fiery burst like a mallard during duck season… in Hell I suppose. In the meantime, utilizing his rotary machinegun to the fullest, he began eradicating as much opposing LRMs as he possibly could.

Bad Hand: Yo Cub! Imma hold a defensive position. Venture out a bit and knock some heads!

With this said, Clayton flipped the transformation switched. Almost instantly components of his AA-47 shifted, warped, and clicked into place. A jet black, humanoid figure stood, armed with a powerful mid-ranged machinegun. From within the barrel, shots rang out concurrently and berated his targets. The lightly tanned male hovered in position and maintained both cover fire for his comrade as well as a protective veil of bullets for the hefty piece of machinery behind him. This day was going to be hell.

[kensei]

The flight home was a quiet one, the reality of the situation seemed to sink into every pilot. No doubt had they been on the ground the depressing aura would have been overwhelming, but even threw the air one couldn’t help but feel the pressure. But at the same time, it was all Cub could wish for, silence.. He focused on the loud hum of his planes engine as he starred at the air around them, much like one listened to a fan as they tried to fall asleep. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to hear the sound of gunfire, or warnings called out by his squad mates.. No.. Just the loud hum of his plane as he moved across the sky.

However it appeared his wish was ignored as his plane’s targeting systems came online, causing him to almost jump out of the cockpit before looking around in fear. When he realized it was simply a reboot he just shook his head and was about to go into another lazy stare, that was until his eyes latched to the image of the super carrier that was obviously in its power up phase. Glistening brightly on the horizon, something that it shouldn’t have been doing.. Where they preparing for the Chordata and any forces that might have been in the vicinity? He could only hope it was that..

The rest of the trip went by with relative silence aside from the periodic call to headquarters as they radioed in there position. Landing went smoothly, everything was.. uneventful. Well aside from Beatrix giving the ground side technician a heart attack.. But halfway threw her descent he had already had his helmet off and thus his radio. He put his face into his hands as he thought about Horick.. His eyes started to water before he shook his head and ran his fingers threw his thin dirty blonde hair.. He proceeded to go threw his post-flight checklist before climbing out.

His body was heavy with sorrow; every step down the ladder was forced, as his body just seemed to want to collapse. However right as he touched the ground he felt himself pushed with nearly unstoppable force before he was spun around. The strength of his attacked was unbelievable, and even on his best day there was no way Vance could have stopped him as he was slammed into his Airmen’s fuselage. His vision blurred a bit as he looked at the large dark figure. His body whined with each breath he took. His vision started to focus once more as he saw it was Boomer that had him pinned against his Airmen.

Vance closed his eyes, as Boomer yelled at him, and blamed him for Horick’s death. To Boomer’s and Vance’s shock however, Lawrence had appeared and taken Boomer down. Boomer practically dragged Vance down with him as he opened his eyes just in time to catch himself against his Airman’s wing. Vance coughed a few times before looking back at Boomer right as Lawrence finished. “You think I don’t wish he hadn’t?! Your right it should have been me who was killed! Fuck man!” His voice cracked as his eyes watered again, while he waved his arms in the air. He sat down; leaning against the landing gear of his Airman as he unzipped his flight suit a bit, revealing a shirt with a pocket inside. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as he looked at the ceiling of the hanger. Taking cigarettes into the air was probably frowned upon by the military, but Vance never wanted to be stuck without them if he ever went down..

Each breath he took was long and wheezy, much like someone who had just finished crying as he held tears back and took a long drag out of his cig. He always gripped his cigarette a bit odd, instead of between the tip of his fingers he always placed them against his palm, making him cover his face every time he took a puff. He looked to the right as he felt the kick to his leg, only to find Laura standing slightly above him.. He still wasn’t quite use to how short she was, but Horick had warned him not to EVER comment on it if he valued his life.. And after seeing her in action he was inclined to follow such advice. “How does one get over losing their best friend?” He stated as calmly as he could before standing up and dropping the half smoked cigarette to the ground before stomping it out. He put up the lighter and package before zipping up his flight suit.

He looked around, Laura was right, there wasn’t anyone here.. “What the hell is going one here?” He said as he followed Laura. The emptiness of the hangars hadn’t eluded him, and it only added the suspicion that things where about to go to hell in a hand basket. One more thing that didn’t elude him was the blistering cold.. His teeth where just a clacking away as he breathed on his hands, while rubbing them together in hopes for warmth. He sighed as they walked inside, glad for even a degree or more of warmth. He took a quick look only to see Lawrence, Boomer, and a man, apparently named Lewis, that Vance had never met before.. But given the fact that he had been here a whopping two weeks it wasn’t really all that shocking.. When Lewis mentioned Mathier Clautz Vance wished he had kept his cigarette.

His father was a bit of a conspiracy theorist before he died. And given his occupation as the manager of a bakery, he watched a lot of news during the day. He had written Vance about the story of Mathier Clautz’s companies buying up a lot of the free stock. Vance never put to much thought into it, but when his name was mentioned it popped back into his mind, as well as memories of his fathers anger about the mans election when Vance was growing up.

Vance followed the rest of the squad to the cafeteria. As the doors opened up he was taken back when he saw everyone. Well, at least they where all still kicking. He smiled a bit as the warmth of the room touched his body. Wonderful, blissful warmth.. He looked over to General Christe as he started to walk over to them. Like the rest he went into a salute, dropping it after the General had dropped his.

However as the gravity of the situation was explained Vance couldn’t help but say. “Holy fuck.. Orel help us..” He put his hand to his face before shaking it and looking back at the General.. It wasn’t the most professional, or inspiring thing to do.. But I doubt anyone could blame him for it.. He took a seat at the table next to Lawrence’s as he pulled out a cigarette and before lighting it.

As the video played Vance couldn’t help but feel like his entire world was crashing down. Yesterday he was proud fighter pilot of the Loreldian Air Force, and know they where saying he was dead? That there military was too weak to hold off the Urobarian military and that the country had surrendered itself to them? What bollocks! That bastard Clautz was going to pay.. He would hang for sure..

But before Vance could continue this train of thought, the building shook from the shockwave of a nearby explosion rolling over it. Vance accidently slammed his hand on top of his cigarette, burning his palm as he let out a slight yell to the newfound pain. “Made me waist a cig!” He said as he looked at the crushed cig with anger. He looked up at Laura asked if he was coming before saying. “Are you seriously asking me that? Those bastards have got a lot to pay for.” He slammed his hand on the table before getting up and running after Laura and the rest of Aurora squad.

As he slammed threw the doors he couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief in knowing no one had been in the burning building; but at the same time feel a sense of dread as it confirmed that it was all really happening. They where really being attacked and their country really had turned their backs on them. As the auto defense turrets kicked in with ear shattering results, Vance couldn’t help but grin things went boom in the sky. However as the on LRM slammed into the air control tower, the resulting termers of the collapsing building caused Vance to fall face first in the concrete, and apparently he was the only one.. Damn greenies.

When the tremors ended Vance got back up, dusted himself off and started running once more. He broke off as Laura yelled towards him and nodded before saying. “Good thinking!”

Vance stopped and raised his arms in auto defense as the building next to him exploded. Vance hadn’t quite made it to his hangar, and as such was pretty damn close to hangar 5 when it went up in flames. Was it divine protection, good writing, or just dumb luck that prevented it from being his hangar? Who knows? But thank Orel it wasn’t. He proceeded inside before examining the two craft and grabbing the one that looked best suited for him. Right as he got in and grabbed his helmet he got an earful of Beatrix.

Cub:Goddamn. Not in the craft for two seconds and already getting yelled at.

He said before performing the necessary fuel mixture and ignited the engine. The old 32 choked a bit before coming to life with less then pleasing enthusiasm.

Cub: Oh you gotta be shitting me.. Well too late to change planes. This is Cub, taking off.

He took the craft out of the hangar before punching it down the runway. He lifted off and took off to the north. He made a quick check to see what he had in way of arms. A little over three dozen HGP missiles, a Rail machinegun, and a Burst Rifle. Great, he was all close range.. Well at least he was flying. He was about to be in range of his first targets as Betrix came back on, cussing everything out. He locked on and fired, blasting a LRM before High-G turn and chasing down another one, luckily getting it before it came out of striking range.

Cub:*Mock Voice*”No cadet should ever worry about radar blocking technology! No cadet should ever worry about being put in a AA-44!” WELL THEY DID! AND I AM STUCK IN A 32!! Didn’t see that coming did you CHIEF GENERAL JACKASS!

He said before pulling the conversion switch and firing his Burst Gun into another LRM. His thicker armor protecting him from the close explosion.

Cub:You know Betrix! You can be an angry little person sometimes! You are NOT helping moral here!

It was at this point that “Bad Hand” had caught up with him. Cub switched back to jet mode before taking off.

Cub: Great! Cause this Airman aint got shit for range!

Cub was a far better pilot of a jet then he was in humanoid form anyway. He wasn’t an ace, but he was far better then most recruits, but at the same time he was sub-par when piloting in humanoid form. At least this way he could play to his strengths, and hopefully Bad Hand was playing to his. Maybe they could get by with this, maybe his craft could actually stop crawling and pick up the pace? Bother where incredibly doubtful.

Cub: Why didn’t I just take over the bakery like dad asked me to? I could be taking a swim in the ocean right now if I had..

[GoldenKitten]

The reason SR-Farsight rifles were so rare and only handed out to ace shooters was due to the difficulty in syncing them with a given Airmen. The rifle itself went through a forty-step process to ensure the weapon was perfectly level, that the barrel was properly reinforced, and that the trajectory was spot on. It took a lot of force and skill to sling a bolt of metal several miles to hit a point the size of a pinhead, but that wasn't the only part in the process of issuing one of these weapons. Due to wind, airflow, fluid dynamics, and gravity guesstimating where a bullet will fly requires expert aim, a decent grasp of mathematics, and for many years required a second individual that acted as a spotter to help ease the burden of taking all these factors into consideration as every bullet flew. For these reasons snipers were rarely included into an actual battle group until the advent of the Airmen PAA (Personal Aiming Assistant) which acted much like an automatic mechanic spotter. All this additional time and equipment meant it could often cost as much to add an SR-Farsight rifle to a flight group as it could issuing an all new Airmen to the team.

Despite all this they were still not considered full-on combat weapons, it was suggested in the manual that the user:
A) Find a location outside the enemies primary route of attack from which to fire.
B) Take time between each shot to carefully line up the next shot, usually between ten and thirty seconds.
C) Relocate after every two shots as not to be located by the enemy.

The authors of this manual and the creators of the SR-Farsight rifle would surely have wept emotional tears of horror at the misuse their weapon was currently being put under. Laura roared at the top of her lungs as a dozen LRM's and bombers were blasted from the sky before she spun around and began taking out foes from a different direction. Despite the speed with which she was firing easily seventy-five percent of the shots were finding their mark and either knocking them straight out of the air or forcing them off course. Papa Bear was being followed by Moonshadow and two other members of Darkfire and they were clearing a rather large swath of sky.

Yet despite the efficiency of their actions it was like whittling away at a glacier with an icepick, they took three-dozen LRM's out of the sky but ten dozen more were still on their way. Equally while they had eliminated the first set of bombers they were just the envoy as radar suggested many more coming behind the LRM's along with other fighters and Airmen which meant they wouldn't be free targets the next time. The only target that seemed to be safe for the moment were the automated turrets which Boomer had kept unharmed, though they had also had the fewest projectiles homing in on them.

Cub was working with Bad Hand by the time Boomer popped in so maybe he didn't hear, but it was hard not to hear Boomer.

Boomer: *Hearty laughter* Did you just use the word 'little' when referring to Beatrix? You are a brraaaveee, braaveee man Cub....and probably dead. *Continues laughing*

Beatrix: *Dryly* I hope both you thunder cunts starve to death in fire.

Boomer: Thunder c...isn't...isn't that you?

The time for idle chatter was long gone now though and there was no time for another quip. The teams were back to firing and both Cub and Bad Hand were the same. Of them all they were currently seeing the least amount of action, of course when you had an entire army assaulting you that didn't mean much. In a twenty second period a dozen LRM's passed their position requiring both to stay on their toes and remove the threats, at the same time the first bombers were nearing though at the moment they weren't receiving any fighters.

Overlord: CUB! DARKFIRE 3! ROLL!!! ROLL NOW!!!

They had better have done so as a moment later a massive shells filled the space their Airmen had been in, shortly after it passed a dozen more filled the air around them forcing both to take defensive aerobatics. Overlord alerted them to the fire coming from below and they soon found the source of the fire, bipedal anti-air in the woods to the north of the Aves. In recent years all forms of the military had been attempting to create more sturdy forms of Airmen (unofficially referred to by the public as Tankmen) to function as ground and sea units, at the moment their usefulness was questionable but they were improving by the day, and they already offered a greater degree of aiming from ground armor allowing them to fight back against air targets better than ever before. The fact that they were hidden in the forest and the Aves targeting systems were filled to the brim made it difficult to cycle to the proper contact meaning they were in double-trouble, but they had to be dealt with quickly or both pilots were going to be blown out of the air long before they could engage the next round of air targets.

But they weren't the only ones in trouble, as the targets were getting closer the Aves natural decryption was attempting to patch them into enemy communications. For a time it only sounded like garbled white noise in the background of their own conversation but eventually words started to pop out.

Overlord: To all pilots, switch to secondary frequency 99.2 we've decrypted the com-chatter for....a minute and forty-three seconds.

But it was to late to be of use.

OES. Fighter: Locked on target, away.

You didn't have to tell the veteran soldiers twice as all members of Aurora went into rolls without question, Moonshadow did as well and most of his pilots followed quickly. But it had been to late and luck had them aiming at Messer, their most junior member much like Cub was to Aurora. His craft was struck with a dozen HGP's and went up in a plume of fire in no time flat, there was no possible time for him to react much less eject. They had no time to mourn his loss though as a split second later and the pilots had all located the newest threat a group of AA-47's painted in the colors of Urobarias coming from above. They had utilized the sheer numbers overwhelming their radars along with the low mist that hung over the Ryker Heights to sneak up on them while the seemingly harmless if numerous LRM's and bombers had kept their attention.

Moonshadow: Messer! Messer did you get out?! FUCK!

Boomer: How are they in AA-47's?! That's a Loreldian build.

Beatrix: Seems our shitprick new “leader” has been making friends for longer than he'd admit.

There were ten of them meaning they now outnumbered them by one. In a normal battle this would not have been an overwhelming advantage but half of Aurora and Darkfire were piloting either obsolete aircraft or in the case of Aurora's three senior airmen were lower on fuel and ammo than was comfortable. To top it off all the while the blanket of LRM's and bombers were now closing in unopposed as they turned their attention to the fighters, it also seemed there might be more anti-air tankmen closing in from the north as well though thankfully it seemed they did not have a clear shot just yet. That hardly bailed them out of the fire though as the incoming fighters still had a positional advantage and had clear shots at Beatrix and Boomer, while Papa Bear and Moonshadow had no way to immediately return fire. Better yet Cub and Bad Hand were far to overwhelmed with their own problems to lend a shot.

The first of the LRM's they had shifted their attention from broke through and slammed into the Aves, blasting a hole into one of the upper decks. There was a crackle on the radio but a moment later instead of being Overlord or the Aves crew complaining to them it was someone far less desired.

OES. Chordata: To the LSS. Aves and any defenders thereof or of Fort Vanderleid, this is the OES. Chordata. This is a message from his excellency Mathew Urobar II, *Change of voice, recording played* “Defenders of Loreldia. Lay your arms down, do not fight for yourself, die like men. If you do not resist and perish now your names will be recorded in the chronicles as unfortunate heroes, heroes that paved the way for a United Continent of Velayria where Loreldia may stand high beside the Urobarian people. Resist and my mighty soldiers shall crush you like insects, you shall be wiped from history, and the positive implications your sacrifices could have had for your nation will have been wasted. Make your decision now, I think we all know what the right one is. The question is are you all brave enough to choose it?”

[Zhiel]

Moonshadow: We're launching now, airborne in 10, 9, 8...

Nomad: Woah woah hold on there, I'm having some engine malfunctions on my end!

Moonshadow: ..By Orel... Nomad get your ass in the air on the double!

This wasn't the first time Nomad, or Private First Class Andrei Lionte had had engine issues in an urgent situation, which he himself claimed to be his abysmal bad luck and though the issue had been investigated they hadn't found any trace of Andrei misusing the AA-43, so perhaps there was some truth in what he said. Of course some in the squad had joked about him being superstitious due to him having been raised in Amelria in his youth, still it didn't change the fact that his Airman had a tendency to not start properly when he needed it the most.

"Let's see here... Ignition off, repeat steps... 1, 2 and... 3." Nomad muttered to himself as he redid the most critical pre-flight preparations, mixing the fuel before among other necessary steps before he once again attempted to start the Airman's engines. "..Aaand Ignition. Come on you piece of aerodynamic junk, work!" As if his 'prayers' were answered the machines engines turned on with a roar, and in a hurry he grabbed ahold of the yoke as the Airman began it's ascent out the Aves hangar. PFC Andrei's AA-43 Airman wasn't anything special at first glance, it bore the same blue and yellow eagle symbols on the wings like any other Loreldian fighter and like most of Darkfire the rest of the ship was painted in white and brown camo, comparative to Aurora's white and gray. One thing of note however was the box-like construction under the Airman, right between the wings. On the wings were a couple larger missiles, LRM's, and on the crafts front was a heavy rail machine gun.

Nomad: Moonshadow I'm airborne.

Moonshadow: About time Darkfire 4, now get your foreign ass to Auroras "Papa Bear" and cover the south approach.

Nomad: No need for that kinda talk, I'm on my way.

After what amounted to their usual banter Nomad pulled on the yoke as his Airman began to ascend, to the observant they might note how his craft appeared to be a bit slower than the rest of Darkfire's, in particular now that he was trying to gain altitude. Regardless he was working his way toward Papa Bear's location as he kept his eyes open for any nearby LRM's or other threats though none he spotted were in range for his machine gun and using his limited supply on LRM's on other LRM's was a complete waste. Still he was too far from the actual battle to hit the transformation lever yet.

Cub:*Mock Voice*”No cadet should ever worry about radar blocking technology! No cadet should ever worry about being put in a AA-44!” WELL THEY DID! AND I AM STUCK IN A 32!! Didn’t see that coming did you CHIEF GENERAL JACKASS!

Nomad: Haha, and I thought I had it bad! Hang in there Cub and we might just make it through this!

Nomad responded heartily over the radio to Cub's ranting, though he had to admit being stuck in a AA-32 in this kind of battle was practically a death sentence. Of course just being in this battle was a death sentence in itself, but stranger things had happened. After this response Nomad turned his attention back to the battle and ignored most of the banter, though he took note of how pissed Beatrix seemed to get from being called a "Angry little person", the emphasis was probably on the little but he didn't have time to think through this now as just a few moments later "Overlord" shouted at Cub and Bad Hand to roll, this prompted Nomad to check out his left to see a large number of shells flying upward passed the two pilots as they rolled to avoid being hit. Almost immediately after seeing this he pulled the yoke back and to the side as the Airman went into a left-upward turn toward the ground armor.

Moonshadow: Nomad, you're up.

Nomad: Already on it Boss. Cub, Bad Hand I'll take care of the ground armor, focus on staying alive and defending the Aves.

As he finished saying this he was beginning to close in to the right high above where the ground armor was located and after a quick survey of the area below him he located the approximate middle of their emplacement. At this point however a few of them had noticed him and turned their weapons on him. As a shot whistled past his Airman Nomad immediately pulled into a downward spiral, his Airman spinning almost like if it had been hit in the wing and though this maneuver did fool a few of his attackers some were determined to take him out. Of course the uneven movement and constant spinning he now employed made him a hard target for them though as he came increasingly closer to the ground one almost had to wonder if he was even intending to pull up. '200.. 150... 100 meters!' Nomad counted in his head as he immediately dragged the yoke back as his Airman began to turn it's tip upward and simultaneously he flipped a switch on the side of the yoke as the black box-like object under the plane was moved back revealing a rather large (for a Fighter plane) bomb. Though his Airman had mostly evened out now it was still falling and he counted his current altitude to be approximately 50 meters, dangerously close even by his standards, however he was still alive so he had a chance to make it count.

Nomad: Bombs away!

He nearly shouted as he pressed a button under the previous switch, letting the bomb fall, it's falling speed being slightly boosted by his own descent though the moment the bomb was dropped it seemed a great weight was lifted from the Airman as it's dropping altitude quickly steadied and just as the bomb hit the ground he was making his way up into the sky once again, though his craft touched the top of a couple trees as he did so.

What followed next was a bright flash of an explosion as waves of pressure and fire erupted from the bomb sending any nearby armor flying while easily making the nearby trees fall and erupt into flames, and remarkably enough the explosion seemed to almost be a wave across the forested area, never truly reaching above the forest itself. And while the blast didn't obliterate nearly all of the armor right away many were caught in the ensuing inferno with the crew soon either being cooked inside their vehicles or fainting due to a lack of oxygen. By the time Nomad was back up at an acceptable altitude the fire an area of over a hundred meters, with just a couple of the original ground armor still capable of firing at them though right now they were busy reallocating out of range of the still growing fire. Having climbed to about 300 meters altitude Nomad hit the transformation lever as he turned his Airman around while brandishing his 'High-Accuracy-Burst-Fire SMG' while aiming it down at the moving targets.

Nomad: Ground Armor has been dispatched, taking down stragglers now. Who says my Carpet Bomb is useless eh?

Moonshadow: Holy Orel Nomad you'll get us both killed with your crazy stunts...!

Though it was obvious Moonshadow was about to issue him additional orders once he was done wiping out the ground armor he was cut off when Overlord told them to tap into enemy comm channels and though he'd normally do so right away right now he was busy obliterating a few 'Tankmen' with highly accurate 3-shot bursts before they got time to return fire. It wasn't before Moonshadow yelled out after Messer that he realized what had happened and right away he made the Airman go into a roll to the side as he had his stabilizer jet's change his rotation so that he'd face the direction of the Aves just in time to see a RBM missile streak past his previous position and was probably making a curved turn to hit him in the back shortly after, though for now he had more pressing matters in the form of a Urobarian AA-47 heading his way, along with a number of additional RBM missiles... How'd they get that model!?

While Nomad handled difficult or outright suicidal maneuvers with exceptional calm and even a bit of excitement he easily got pressured when faced with missile bombardment which was quite ironic given his great enthusiasm about things that went boom, like his Carpet Bomb. Regardless he brandished his SMG once more as he began to take down the RBM's, using the burst to help him hit the missiles as he only needed to connect one slug to take them down, however after three bursts and two missiles out of five down he realized he needed to move and so turned his Airman upside down and let it free-fall as he hit the transformation switch once again and burst off in a downward slope as the 4 RBM missiles (the 3 remaining and the 1 he originally avoided) trailed closely behind him. Recognising he'd soon be hit if he didn't do anything Nomad released a cloud of chaff behind his Airman just as he began as sharp a turn as he was capable off, and not long after the confused missiles burst through the cloud as three of them continued in a mostly straight path though one of them had locked back onto him. Dammit...

As he came out of his turn he saw the enemy Airman coming down from ahead of him as the pilot let his Rotary Machine-gun blaze while Nomad pushed his yoke to the side letting his Airman pivot to the right avoiding the gunfire though putting him in a position where he couldn't target his attacker at all... At least he 'only' had one missile and a more advanced Airman on his tail, right?

Nomad: Hey Beatrix, if you're not too busy staying alive and all, mind giving me a hand?

[Tagz]

Cub: Great! Cause this Airman ain’t got shit for range!

After that point, Damon’s com-link was reduced to random, senseless blather. Mr. Clayton ignored the hearty laughter and ice cold “cunt” comments. Beatrix, Boomer, and Cub continued with their apparently standard bickering. Meanwhile, evidently, impressive aerobatics were being made alongside perpetually awing accuracy. Sadly, this was a display unbeknownst to the First Lieutenant who would’ve surely enjoyed watching such feats. Instead, he had a hellish onslaught of hostile missiles to abolish. From his machineguns, bullets continued to eradicate the enemy LRMs. Their numbers depleted, though not substantially so. LRMs slipped by and rocked the massive cradle behind him. Thankfully, Cub was doing his part in finding and eliminating the source. The question was, was this rookie capable enough to do it? It made it even more unlikely when considering the shitty shit shitbucket AA-32 that he was piloting. No matter, he would have to earn his stripes sooner or later, preferably sooner. While Damon settled on this notion, a voice exploded within his eardrums.

Overlord: CUB! DARKFIRE 3! ROLL!!! ROLL NOW!!!

Without hesitation, Bad Hand did as instructed. And suddenly, a siege of colossal shells shredded through the air aiming to tear through their aircrafts as well. As earlier mentioned, Bad Hand’s fields of expertise were evasions and aerial acrobatics. Dipping and diving, swerving and gliding, Clayton slipped through the hail of bullets. All the while, he was descending greatly, planning to momentarily leave his post against his will. These ‘Tankmen’ were an immediate threat. Hopefully Cub would be able to do enough damage to their opposition so that Clayton would have ample time to decimate their ground forces and return to his post. However, just as he was about to flip the switch to jet mode, he was relieved of this duty. Orel truly smiled upon the good and the just.

Moonshadow: Nomad, you're up.

Nomad: Already on it Boss. Cub, Bad Hand I'll take care of the ground armour, focus on staying alive and defending the Aves.

Bad Hand: So you finally got that broken toy of yours up and flying, Nomad? *cordial laughter* Thank Orel, because you’re more suited for such matters. Eat to your heart’s content.

Upon insinuating that the Tankmen were a gluttonous meal for Andrei to devour, Clayton released sufficient pressure from the jets on his back, levelling him out several meters above the snowy plateau. Soon after, as he ascended back to an appropriate level, he was unexpectedly met with a great threat. Being of the few in the area with a working AA-47, he’d apparently been chosen as a prime target. Two Urobarians stood before him, utilizing the same model of Airmen as he. Their burst rifles were aimed and locked.

… a deep breath.

Then… Burst Rifles FLARED TO LIFE!! And yet somehow the heart pounding clamour that they emitted was drowned out by almost volcanic eruptions resounding from ALL AROUND!!!! The heat of war was setting in and the hopelessness of their endeavours was being pushed to the very back of the First Lieutenant’s mind. Employing evasive manoeuvres, he barely managed to elude their first efforts to eliminate him. He had to pick a target. Once he had, he raced in. All the while, he unleashed a barrage of bullets upon the other keeping them at bay. As he reached in close, his movements grew brash and unreadable. He was swallowed by his adrenaline. He was dead set on not just surviving, but eradicating his opponents. And due to this, he hadn’t the attention span to even hear, let alone heed Overlord’s instructions. It wasn’t until a strange voice trespassed on his frequency and confirmed a target to be locked that he took notice. So they’ve patched into their frequency, huh? Quite the irksome lot, weren’t they? Meanwhile, on a completely unrelated note, the forest to the north of them raged with purging flames. And to the west, a beloved comrade cooked within a soaring ball of fire. Yet even as he heard,

Moonshadow: Messer! Messer did you get out?! FUCK!

He hadn’t the opportunity to show his concern; he hadn’t the opportunity to mourn the loss. If he did take that time, he’d find himself joining Messer FAR sooner than he intended. Spinning and ascending, he set free an assortment of his own bullets. His skillful shooting had the opposing 47 on his toes and rearing up. The persistent little bastard that he was, said 47 continued to dump shell after shell on the tanned Loreldian. Even more irksome, the second Urobarian rushed in and quickly closed the gap, aiding his comrade in arms.

Boomer: How are they in AA-47’s?! That's a Loreldian build.

Beatrix: Seems our shitprick new “leader” has been making friends for longer than he’d admit.

Bad Hand: Ain’t that a bitch? And now he’s got our good friends kissing flames. When we get out of this I got a clip with his name on it. Messer ain’t die for nothin’.

As if this shitty day couldn’t get any worse, a bomber accompanied by one more AA-47 was heading their way. Hopefully, this grave dilemma would be resolved by Cub before they got any closer to the Aves. Bad Hand’s hands were more than full already and it seemed Nomad was in a bit of a shit-pickle himself. Clip after clip, Clayton filled the air with shots from his machine gun. Utilizing his aerobatic skills to their fullest, he continued his fury. It was damn near impossible to gun down two 47’s without taking damage yourself. As one of his attackers lost an arm and a burst rifle, his own leg was significantly chipped at the “thigh”. This caused the First Lieutenant to stagger and briefly lose control of his machine. It would be even harder now for him to avoid the certain doom he was ordained to face since he had woken up that morning.

It was during his plight to control his Airman and escape an untimely death that yet another unfamiliar voice infiltrated his com-link. It was a man addressing the LSS. Aves along with the entirety of Fort Vanderlied. The man then switched to what was presumably a pre-recorded message that instructed them to salvage their “honour”… and surrender… and die? Was Mathew Urobar really that ballsy? There wasn’t a shred of honour in that. Was he sincerely asking if they were brave enough to die for him? Die? For him? Brave? WAS HE OUT OF HIS MIND??!! FUCK THE UNITED CONTINENT OF VELAYRIA!! FUCK STANDING BESIDE HIM AND HIS BASTARD UROBARIANS!!! A sudden heave of unadulterated rage engulfed the usually mellow and carefree Bad Hand. Not being the type to burst out verbally, he took his resentment upon the propagators of Mathew’s idiocy. The two AA-47’s before him were now destined to crash and burn, literally. He’d see to it… even if he had to crash along with them.

[kensei]

So there he was, a young boy watching the jets of the Loreldian military make a nice show over the Port city, Lumemehr. They where loud and fantastic, and it was then as a young boy of only ten years he decided to become a pilot. Skip ahead a little over a decade and.. Hmm…

Aurora 6, aka Cub, also know as Vance Limbaugh slammed his throttle forward as he raced towards the incoming LRMs. He took a few deep breaths as he steadied out his aim, remembering the words of wisdom that the now late Horick earlier that day. And then with the pull of the trigger his gun roared to life, shredding the missile, the explosion caused a chain reaction with another one that was close enough to be hit by the blast wave. The double hit was a rather nice fiery spectacle to behold in its own right, and in any other situation Vance probably would have been rather pleased with the whole thing.. That was any other day.. Because today, he had better freaking roll..

He slammed his yoke causing a instant dive roll, one which came with the joy of saving his life as he watched a missile fly right threw the space he had just occupied.. He slammed on the throttle as he launched a set of flares into the air to help him avoid the dozens of other air-to-ground missiles that where being launched. Slamming his craft every which way but lose to dodge the horrendous onslaught launched against him he was hardly in any position to take out the incoming LRMs and it appeared Bad Hand was in just as bad a spot..

When it seemed like he was either going to have to get realllly stupid and ballsy if he wanted to live, Darkfire 4, aka. Nomad brought up the slack for em. Using a rather unorthodox bomb strapped to his Airman he successfully.. Well made for a hellishly hot forest that rendered most of the Tankmen useless. But that still left them with a hellish amount of Anti-air missiles that where still well in the air and capable of targeting for themselves..

A devilish grin appeared on Vance’s lips as a crazy, insane, and rather smart if he said so himself, idea came to him. He pointed his craft down putting it into a 90 degree slope downwards, firing his afterburners as he tried to keep up some of the distance from the supersonic missiles and himself. Granted, they where still going faster then him, but he would be able to pull off this stupid stunt as he neared the bottom slope of the mountain. Flying down the side of if with missiles only a few hundred meters behind he fired three HGPs at the bottom of the mountain side before slamming of the chaff and firing a set of flares off. He slammed his craft upwards towards a 90 degree arc, but even so he wasn’t about to lose his downward momentum as he rocketed towards the rather large fire ball emerging from the woods, with a nice vapor trail coming off his wings.

His airman strained under the instant shift and pressure as well as the small blast wave he hit as he flew into the emerging fire ball. He pushed the throttle to full as he started to take upwards right before he slammed into the treetops. But what was happening behind him was far more fantastic then the insane, vapor trail leaving plane that had just glided above a slopping mountain.. No behind him dozens of missiles had lost there lock from the flares and resulting heat from the missiles that Cub had launched, and giving their trajectory there was only one place for them to go, the ground. The missiles slammed one after another into the forest, creating a chain explosion that rivaled if not surpassed the one Nomad had created with his carpet bomb. And from it all was flowing Cub upwards, leaving a few burning treetops he had been right above moments ago.

Cub: WWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!

He exclaimed as he took a breath of relief, even if that relief only lasted a mere second it was a second of bliss in this chaotic time. However as he took that second to wipe his sweaty palms and thank Orel for letting him live threw that insane stunt he quickly went back to business in taking going after the LRMs that had been less challenged with all the chaos of yester seconds. He switched com channels right before Messer went up in flames. Cub moved his craft to the side as he made sure none of the AA-47s where coming his way. But at the same time he couldn’t help but eye Messer’s craft, the scenario was almost identical to how Neuman had been taken out… Anger boiled inside at not only the loss of his comrade but also for what they had done to Neuman, Horick, and the entire damn country! With a hotter burning flame in his heart he went straight for the LRMs, taking one out before calling out.

Cub: Beatrix! I need help out here, there is too much range between me and the other LRMs!

Yeah, he knew she was busy with new arrivals, and the other fronts but he didn’t have many other options and it seemed she knew that as she quickly took out the few incoming LRMs that had slipped past him and Bad Hand. But doing so may have been what opened up a hole for the other LRMs to slam into the hull of the LSS. Aves. Vance was shocked as he looked at the gapping hole that had been created in it. But that shock turned into anger as he listened to the damn recording of that son of a bitch Mathew Urobar.. Where they out to make him as down right pissed off as he could be? Telling him to roll over and die and just give up his entire country to the Urobarian pigs?! Oh fuck no!

He slammed on the yoke of his craft before launching himself back towards Bad Hand and company. Locking onto one of his enemies as he approached.

Cub: Drive by!

He yelled as he fired three of his missiles at the back of the perfectly good Airman that was in combat with Bad Hand. The speed which Cub had come apparently took the pilot by surprise or something because he took the full force of two of the three missiles, turning him into a pile of flaming metal heading for the ground. And in a flash Cub was already gone to move onto his own challenge, a faster, more maneuverable craft with slightly worse armor most likely pilot by an ace of some sort, and a bomber… Yep. Greaat..

As the distance between the groups dwindled a flash from the 47 was Cub’s only warning as he slammed his yoke to the side, dodging the initial burst from the enemy’s rotary machinegun. He started to move in sporadic directions dodging the machinegun to the best of his abilities. Granted, he still took a few hits here and there but the relatively weaker weapon didn’t break his Airman’s armor. As he closed the distance between the 47’s accurate range and Cub’s, his trigger was getting itchy, so when he finally did hit the mark he let out a hail of bullets towards the opposing Airman, skimming him a few times. However, while both employed different dodging maneuvers both where heading towards the same end game, close up combat. The distance closed, and with it, it seemed that both pilots ability to move became rather constricted causing both to take a bit more damage as well as allowing both to achieve a solid lock. Both sent out a small cluster of missiles, causing each to roll to the side. The 47 pilot transformed, showcasing a Burst rifle which he used to take out Cub’s missiles, but much to the pilot’s surprise Cub was still in jet form and was heading straight for him, heavy on the trigger. The machine gun ripped into the 47’s arm and gun rendering both nearly useless. The Urobarian however seemed dead certain to take down Cub, removing one of his melee weapons and throwing it right at Cub.

Cub moved down as fast as he could, but the upper body of his Airmen had been skimmed by it, ripping off a large chunk of armor. He was still flying, if only, but it wasn’t going to help him any now… He fired another set of flares before pulling his transformation switch, and firing on the incoming missiles. He took them all down but during this time the 47 had been able to take back off and was coming in for a drive by now.. By Orel he was one unlucky bastard not to have taken him out with the hammering he had already given that Airman.. With a rather bitter taste in his mouth Cub switched again and went to meet the 47 pilot for round two of the joust..

Once again each scored a good hit or two, but both seemed dead set on staying in the air, but what changed this time was that Cub was the one to throw the transformation leaver at a little over forty meters away. He felt the rounds of the rotary machine gun rock his craft as it went threw its most fragile state, but hey it held together and right as the transformation finished Cub let out a barrage from his Burst rifle. With little over five meters between them, the other pilot had broken off to stop a collision, but it left his under belly exposed to Cub’s rifle as he passed overhead and one shot ended the little war they had been having.. The craft hardly passed by before exploding, knocking Cub’s craft off balance and sending it hurdling towards the earth. Cub pulled the leaver as he tried to regain control off his craft.

Adrenaline rushed threw his system as he tried every trick in the book to get his craft back under his control. His engines had stalled and it was a race against time to get them reignited before he crashed and burned.. DID HE DO IT?! Well… Yes. About halfway down he had the engines restarted and was able to level out his Airman before taking off after the bomber. With a few well placed missiles to the engine of the bomber it explodiminated in a huge and glorifying… explosion.. Ahh well done! What next?