Chapter Seven

C-5

Holy crap, I honestly can't believe I'm posting another chapter after over a year. I apologize for the delay, but the word system I have on my laptop isn't compatible for Fanfiction for some reason. Between school, and other stories I'm writing, I never got around to posting this chapter. Rest assured, loyal readers, this story is not abandoned :)

Oh, before I forget, how many of you saw the Ace Combat 7 trailer! I did, and I had a fangasam. Erusea vs Osea! Hope we get to see a favorite Ribbon in the game... if not, then I think I have a great idea for a story involving Mobius. So, with that out of the way, I present you Ch.7

Three grueling hours later found both Edge and Blaze in a racetrack CAP pattern over the southern shore of the island sea. Chopper and Grimm were off doing their own patterns approximately two hundred miles away from their location. Blaze didn't like the idea of splitting his flight into two separate groups, but there was no way around it. Orders were orders, even if the flight commander didn't like them. Not for the first time, Crowe wished he hadn't left Usea. ISAF High Command was very conservative when it came to his deployment. He was, after all, ISAFs only hope at ending the war against the Eurians. As such, he was only deployed on missions that were vital on the war effort, not measly recon missions that only wasted his talent and energy, such as the one he was on right now.

"Ahh! Dammit, Kid!" Chopper's frustrated voice cut through the static the static that the pilots had been listening.

Aside from the hourly reports to each other and Thunderhead, the flight had been maintaining radio silence. Crowe had been patiently waiting for Chopper to get annoyed with the silence. Hell, he and Edge had had made a bet on when exactly he would break the silence.

"Couldn't we have gotten a more interesting mission? This is so damn boring!"

Before Blaze could respond to Chopper's impatient complaint, Nagase keyed her mike and sent Crowe a message, "Looks like I win the bet, Captain."

Hidden behind his breathing mask, Crowe gave a defeated smile "Damn. If Chopper had stayed quite for five more minutes I would be the one saying that. Well, looks like I'm buying drinks tonight."

Confusion was evident in Chopper's voice when he spoke again, "Uh, what the hell are you two talking about?"

"Well, me and Edge made a bet on how long it would…" Blaze cut short by a garbled transmission on their frequency.

"…eavily…amaged…Radio…functioning…can…hear us?"

"Transmitting aircraft, this is Wardog 1, we are receiving your transmission. State your call sign and intention." Blazed called to whoever had sent the transmission.

As he spoke, Crowe's eyes dropped from the HUD in front of him to the radar display on the left MFD screen. He had a target almost twenty miles off his nose. It was the only aircraft in the vicinity, so by process of elimination, meant that it was the source of the emergency transmission. The static he'd been listening to suddenly cleared and the voice came on again, this time with perfect clarity.

"Oh, thank God! I thought we were dead for a minute there." The was clear relief in the voice of the pilot flying the mysterious plane.

'They must have switched to a secondary radio.' Blaze realized. This wasn't the age where aircraft carried only one radio that could be easily knocked out with a well-placed bullet. Most aircraft these days carriers at least two, even the little prop planes that civilian pilots flew had two, just in case one broke.

"This is the heavy transport plane, Mother Goose 1. We are on a classified mission and I'm not giving our automated SAMs a valid ID single, so one of our own batteries opened up on us."

Edge and Blaze had closed the distance between them and the transmitting plane to see what it what was. It was an OADF C-5 Galaxy, one of the largest cargo planes in the world.

Crowe knew that it would take more than just one missile to down that behemoth, unless you got lucky and blew off one of its wings. That's why he made most of C-5 kills with the gun. It was easier to make a deliberate hit on a wing or blow the fuel tank.

"Copy, Mother Goose. What is you status, over?" Crowe asked. The answer was not the one he wanted to hear.

"Our radar's out, so I can't get a fix on where the SAM batteries are at."

Great. Just what he didn't need, a transport on a top-secret mission that had been wounded by friendly fire and the missile had taken out the Galaxy's radar so it couldn't see the missile batteries below them. Unfortunately for Crowe, things got worse when the pilot radioed in again. "Our control systems have been damaged as well."

Blaze barley resisted cursing out load over the radio. Seriously, how the hell did he wind up on these types of missions for the OADF anyway? At least when he was flying for ISAF he was assigned only two escort missions throughout the entire theater. Granted, they were also the most important missions of the entire war.

He keyed his mike, "Mother Goose, standby. Edge, go button two." Button two was the second comms channel he'd had all the other members of Wardog set into their radios before they left Sand Island. He generally used it as a way of coordinating his flight without the interference of Thunderhead or ground controllers. It came in handy for having conversations behind another pilot's back.

"Roger, Edge going button two."

Once they were both on the secondary radio frequency, Blaze said "Okay, Edge, what do we know about this guy?" He looked out the left side of his canopy and saw Nagase's shrug her shoulders.

"I don't know. I personally believe we should help them out, but it's your call, Captain."

Great. Somehow he knew she was going to say that. Chopper forced a split-second decision by coming on the radio with bad news.

"Hey, Kid, we got a problem."

"Tell me something I don't know, Chopper." The ace really didn't want to know. He had enough to deal with on what to do with this transport.

"Our early warning systems picked a flight of Yukes heading straight for us. Warning alarms are going off like crazy and Thunderhead is having a seizure about not being able to reach you."

"There is a reason why I haven't told them about our reserve frequency. Looks like we have no choice, were baby-sitting Mother Goose. Chopper, you and Grimm get your asses back here and meet us beyond the SAM network. Edge and I will try to get this guy through in one piece."

"Copy that. Grimm and I are on our way." The radio went dead again as Blaze and Edge switched back to the primary radio frequency.

"Mother Goose, this is Wardog. We're gonna guide you through the SAM field. Edge, keep your radar on air-to-air, I'm going air-to-ground to see if I can't find a safe path through here." He hears a click over the headset, indicating that Nagase had received the message. Well, time see if Crowe could pull another miracle out of his ass and get this C-5 through safely.

Blaze scanned the radar display closely, increasing and decreasing the resolution a few times to better see the gaps between blips. After about a minute, he could see a path beginning to form. It would be tricky and they would the range of a few of the SAM sites more than once, but Crowe's hope was that the AI in the missiles systems would reject the shots as having a low probability of success.

"Okay, I have the route. He didn't want to say that he though he had a route because that would make the C-5 pilot nervous and prone to making a mistake, one that could result with him getting shot down. Edge and Blaze would be safe since they were transmitting a friendly IFF signal.

"Let's go. Are you ready, Mother Goose?" Blaze asked.

"Yes, sir." replied the transport pilot.

"Okay, then. First heading is 056." Behind him, the C-5 banked and Blaze noticed that the transport didn't exceed more that ten degrees of bank. It was probably due to the damaged suffered from friendly fire. The two Raptors also adjusted course and rolled out on bearing 056.

"Radar is clear of bandits so far, Blaze." Nagase called out.

Crowe clicked his mike in acknowledgement. Edge knew him well enough to know that he would want periodic updates on what the air-to-air situation was.

"Standby. Second course will be 074. Roll on my mark…Mark." Once again, the three planes rolled and turned on the new course. So far so good, but now there were approaching one of the sections where the flight would brush the edge of a SAM ring.

The pilots of the three planes collectively held their breath and barley slipped past the SAMs. Blaze let out a breath of relief that he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Mother Goose, turn to bearing 043. You have a five mile leeway." Crowe knew he was pushing it, trying to get the massive plane in such a small place, coupled with the fact said plane had taken damage from a friendly missile would make this turn even harder than it would have normal been. Crowe was hoping that the pilot was experienced enough to get through.

"Roger. I'll see if I can attempt it." The transport rolled and began to turn. Blaze reached into his pocket to feel the silk ribbon, easing some of the tension. His heart leapt into his throat when he realized that the Galaxy was not going to make it! A second later, it was apparent that the pilot of the cargo plane knew his machine quite well, just as well as Crowe knew his.

The left wing suddenly began to drag and the right wing sped up. Blaze thought it was odd, until he realized that the two pilots in the transport had decreased the power to the left two engines and increased power to the right. With the bank and sudden alteration in power, the turning radius was shortened just enough to get them back on track.

"Nice work, Mother Goose." Blaze complimented.

"Thanks, Wardog 1. What's our next bearing?" It was obvious that the transport pilot did not enjoy doing this anymore than Blaze did.

"Bearing 000. Ready on my mark. Three…two…one…Mark!" They made it to the heading without anymore-major complications. Now, the three planes were just a few miles from the far edge of the automated SAM system. However, they were anything but home free. There were still quite a few SAMs between them and the edge, and Blaze had yet to find a suitable route that let directly through the edge.

After an agonizing twenty minutes, the three OADF planes made it through the defense grid. Blaze gave off a sigh of relief, glad to have gotten through the grid without anymore complications. However, Blaze couldn't help wonder if this was how the Yukes kept sneaking into Osean air space.

'If we were able to do it, then they should have been able to also.' Blaze realized. Crowe decided to inform Perrault about this the first chance he got, and make sure the fat commander too it straight to the top!

However, things began to unravel very quickly right then. The sound of multiple gunshots resonated through the radio, followed by the sound of a death rattle, which consisted with a sharp drop in Mother Goose's altitude.

"Hey, what the hell gives!?" Chopper asked as he and Grimm made it to the scene after setting in a super-cruise.

"Mother Goose, come in," Edge called, "Are you all right?" A different voice came over the radio, one Blaze had heard enough times on TV, and even met face to face in secret when he arrived in Osea.

"Ah. Yeah, we're fine." It was the voice of President Harling, the man in charge of Osea and its entire military. The man who had ordered Arkbird armed with a laser, and the one who personally aided Crowe's quiet emigration from Usea, "There was an enemy spy onboard. The pilot and copilot are both dead. Tommy has the plane now, but he's just an aide and I don't think he knows how to fly this thing."

Thunderhead chose that moment to make the situation even worse, "Enemy contacts inbound, bearing 360 at 100, altitude 9000."

"Dammit!" Crowe swore, not believing their crappy luck today. "Why now off all time!?"

He quickly shook it off and began issuing orders. "Grimm, Chopper, stay here and keep these bastards away from Mother Goose. Edge, you and I will intercept those bogeys. We cannot lose this transport!" A sudden curiosity struck Blaze, who wondered if the enemy knew who they were going after, so he switched channels and listened on the one reserved to intercept enemy radio traffic.

"There it is!" A Yuke called out eagerly.

"Yeah! If we kill this one, they'll build a statue in our honor!"

"So, what are we waiting for? Let's hurry up and kill this thing!" Yep. The Yukes knew who they were going after. However, this was a classified mission. How the hell had the Yukes knew where and when to be, not to mention who they were going after, could only point to a lack in the upper echelon. So who in the Osean government or military had turned traitor?

Blaze was almost in range of the oncoming Yukes, so he put the thought aside as the main concern was protecting the President. Blaze's fingers began to dace on HOTAS, locking up an enemy, and selecting the missile to shoot the Yuke down in a matter of seconds. It wouldn't be a face shot, but that didn't matter. These AMRAAMs were an all-aspect missile, just like the Sidewinders Wardog carried.

"Blaze, Fox Three!" The ventral doors on his Raptor's belly snapped open and the fire and-forget missiles punched into the slipstream before igniting its rocket motor and blasting off past the speed of sound to pursue its unsuspecting target. Crowe watched the little countdown on his HUD, waiting for the number next to the A to hit zero and turn into a T. The A stood for autonomous and was the time until the missile could track the target on its own. T stood for Time 'till impact and when that hit zero, Blaze needed to start looking for a confirmed kill.

"Edge, Fox Three!" An AIM-120 left Blaze's wingman jet as well, both missiles scurrying off into the sky. Crowe's pulse quickened as the count next to the tiny letter T hit zero.

Way off in the distance, there were two little puffs as both missiles found their mark.

"Blaze and Edge, Splash One!" He called, locking on to another Yuke. The target designator box on the HUD was moving erratically. Clearly, these Yukes had not been expecting fighter escorts and were going to pay the price for their ignorance. Edge and Blaze soon closed the distance and entered visual range of their target. Blaze was easily able to identify the distinctive outline of a MiG-29.

MiGs were incredibly durable. Designed to operate from any type of runway under extreme weather conditions. They even had doors on the top of the intakes to allow the front to be covered, allowing the fighter to take off from anything from grass strips to highways, while not working about FOD. Once airborne, the doors would open and the intakes would function normally.

"Blaze, tallyhos! I count two Fulcrums!" Even as Blaze spoke, he rolled and dove, going after his selected target, who had decided to enter a dive to try and open the distance.

Not very smart since Blaze was in a Raptor. The advance jet was designed from the ground up to not allow any type of advantage to the enemy. Now switching to the guns, Blaze got the pepper on target and opened up a quick one second burst. Even though the burst was relatively short, over two hundred rounds pounded down range and ate through the skin of the MiG like it was wet tissue paper.

As the MiG disintegrated and headed earthward, Blaze's Radar Warning Receiver began beeping at him. He was spiked. It was coming from the second MiG, the one whose tail Nagase was supposed be on.

"Damn! Where the hell did he come from?" Crowe grunted as he began to take evasive action and get on the guy's tail. The other guy was good, despite piloting an inferior aircraft, the Yuke was managing to stay with him. Crowe knew standard tactics weren't going to cut here in this fight. It was time to show what the Raptor could really do in his hands.

Crowe jerked his throttle back to idle and hauled back on the stick as hard as he could. The F-22 responded instantly, pulling up into a hard climb and losing airspeed at an alarming rate. The stall warning alarm began shrieking, but Crowe had done this enough times to know how far he could push it. The maneuver looked more like a back flip rather than a loop, which was what it was supposed to look like. The MiG overshot, speeding off into the distance, caught completely off guard by the maneuver.

"Blaze, Fox Two!" He had switched missiles in the middle of the flip, and the deadly rocket tore off in pursuit of the enemy, pulling lead and detonating close enough to the MiG to shred its engines and sent it into a death spiral.

"Blaze here, scratched another one."

"Roger. Lieutenant Crowe, your flight is requesting your assistance with Mother Goose."

"Copy. I'm on my way" Crowe arrived back in the vicinity of the stricken Galaxy, which was losing altitude fast, but Blaze wasn't concerned. He could see that the transport had its flaps lowered and the gear was coming down even as he watched, setting up for an emergency landing out in the middle of nowhere. Edge was busy instructing the President's assistant through the procedure, which explained why she hadn't been covering his back. Chopper and Grimm probably had gotten too technical for the aide.

"Are your engines at idle?" Edge asked.

"Y-Yes, I believe so," the aide stuttered, clearly nervous over his situation.

"Okay, now pull back until the horizon is hidden by the top the instrument panel."

Nagase instructed coolly.

The C-5 began to pull up, allowing the main gear to hit first and absorb all the shock from the landing. A huge cloud of dirt flew high into the air as the transport hit that ground and began skidding to a stop.

"Okay, thank God that's over with." came the relieved voice of the President, "Thank you for the help, Wardog. By the way, who's the one in charge of your squadron?"

"That would be me, sir," Crowe answered. "First Lieutenant Will Crowe at your service, Mr. President."

"Hmm, William Crowe? Ah, well thank you for the assistance, and I'm glad to see you've adjusted, Lieutenant."

"Just doing my job, sir." Crowe responded quickly, hoping the man wouldn't continue or accidentally reveal him. Harling was an honest politician, a man who put people above politics, a very rare trait among most politicians, and a man Crowe respected deeply.

Now all Crowe need was a way to deflect the awkward questions that the others would be sure to ask him. Thankfully, Chopper provided the perfect opportunity.

"Oh crap, I'm out of fuel."

"Copy, Chopper," Blaze acknowledged, the feeling of relief flooding his system. "Which one are you at?"

"I'm at bingo fuel right now, Kid."

Crowe scowled behind his mask. Bingo fuel was the level for a safe return, and allowed at least one go around if Chopper happened to miss a landing. They could stay untilChopper hit joker fuel, which was the bare-bones minimum. Crowe didn't want to run his wingman out of fuel, but he also didn't want to leave the President sitting out in the field, exposed, and in the middle of nowhere.

A new voice crackled across the comms and saved Blaze the trouble of making a snap decision.

"This is the 8492nd squadron, you can leave, we'll take it from here."

"Roger 8492." replied Blaze. "Thanks for the backup."

"No problem. Rest assured, we'll take good care of this guy."

"Okay Wardog, lets get out of here." The four Raptors banked for home, hoping to get some R&R after a long day.

000

By the time Wardog had returned to Sand Island, night had already fallen. After parking, the four pilots walked to the debriefing room when Captain. Hamilton blocked the entrance to the room.

"Sir? What is it?" Blaze asked, saluting for the group.

"Something major has happened," Hamilton replied grimly, returning Blaze's gesture. At the puzzled look of the pilots, the vice-commander told them. "Arkbird has been disabled."

"What?" the four pilots said in unison.

"How is that possible, sir?" Blaze asked.

Hamilton turned a cold gaze onto Blaze. "There was an explosion hidden in a supply shipment from the ground. We have reason to believe that an enemy spy smuggled a hidden explosive device into the supplies."

"Sir, while were on the subject, we met Mother Goose 1 while it was enroute to North Point."

"Yes, I was informed about that from the 8492nd. They said to commend you four in your efforts in protecting the President."

"Wait a minute! Back up a sec, that guy in the transport was the President!" Chopper yelled; the other four looking at him as if he was nuts.

"You mean you didn't know?" Grimm asked skeptically, wondering how Chopper was unable to recognize the President's voice.

"Anyway!" Blaze said loudly, cutting off the topic from changing. "Sir, I was under the impression that the mission was classified. No one should have known about it except the higher ups. Not only that, a flight of four Yuke MiG-29s were waiting in ambush for the President's arrival. If we hadn't been there, sir, in all likelihood, the President would be dead."

"So what you're saying, Lieutenant, is that you believe that someone up in Central Command has turned traitor?"

Blaze nodded, "I believe so, sir, yes."

Hamilton sighed, taking off his cap and ran his hand through his regulation hair. "I'd advise caution with those accusations, Lieutenant. However, I trust your judgment, but things like this cannot be brought to light without extreme caution."

"So you're saying you won't do anything about it?" Crowe demanded, perhaps a little more forcefully than he should have.

Hamilton's eyes flashed. "Show a little more respect to you superiors, Lieutenant Crowe," he barked. "I never said I wouldn't do anything about this. Do not accuse me of such unless I have specifically said so! Am I understood?"

"Crystal, sir." Crowe replied grudgingly, glaring at Hamilton. His respect for Hamilton dropped a few notches. Hamilton could do his job, that much was true, but he also seemed to be a little bit more concerned with regulations than the big picture.

"I will take this up the chain. Just be patient and I will inform you what the results yield." With that, he did a crisp salute and marched away. Once in his room, Hamilton locked the door to make sure no one would enter unannounced. With the door locked, Hamilton crossed to his desk and pulled out a cell phone from a drawer in his desk. He hit the speed dial and waited. It was answered before the first ring ended.

"Yes?" came a synthetic voice on the other end of the phone.

"It's me." Hamilton replied.

"Ah! Mr. Hamilton. Do you have something for me?"

"Yes, sir. A warning." said Hamilton, walking over to the window and pulled down a blind to look at the hanger where Wardogs planes were situated. "One of the pilots here is suspicious of how the Yuktobanians knew to go after Harling."

"Which pilot?"

"William Crowe."

"I see. There's no need for the concern, Hamilton, he's just one pilot chasing shadows."

"But what if he gets a little more nosy?"

"I said not to worry." replied the Grey Man, a hint of annoyance clearly evident even behind the voice disguiser. Hamilton knew he'd better ease off the pushing. "When the time is right, we will kill Wardog Squadron."

"How, if I may ask?"

The voice on the other end chuckled mirthlessly. "Ah, my dear Hamilton, you don't want to spoil the surprise, do you?"

There was a click and Hamilton found himself listening to the buzzing noise of a dead line. Well, if his superiors didn't want him to do anything about Crowe, then he would just sit tight and await further orders.

000

After the debriefing of their latest mission, Nagase was once again at the computer, pursuing the mystery of her flight commander. She'd found nothing about the fake phone number, and every piece of Blaze's history in Osea checked out with no problems, even the death of his sister.

'Glad to see you've adjusted. Why did the President say that to Blaze? Do they know each other?' she thought, the questions gnawing in her mind. Deciding to pursue a new lead, Edge looked up any information she could find about Allenfort Air Base, the home base of Mobius Squadron. Skimming through the website, she found nothing conclusive that could tie Crowe to Mobius 1. Again, she hit another dead end in her investigation.

Sighing in defeat, Kei walked over to her bed and flopped down onto the mattress. As she laid on the soft surface, her eyes began to close, the soft mattress leading into a slumber after the long day she had endured. Her last though before the white in her room faded black was that fateful day she encountered the famous Ribbon.

At only twenty years old, Kei Nagase had worked hard to become the youngest woman to become a first officer for Air Ixiom. And now, all that effort wasn't going to matter if she died today.

It was only about an hour or so when her flight carrying the developers of Stonehenge was attacked by Erusian fighters. To make matters worse, the captain was badly wounded and unable to fly the plane, and the structure of the plane had taken some damage, meaning they could not climb past 5,000 feet or they would loose cabin pressure. The inside of the cockpit was a complete mess. The window was covered in the blood of the Captain, who was being attended by the flight attendants inside the cockpit. Small rays of sunlight were entering through the bullet holes inside the cockpit thanks to the Erusian fighters. And now, there only hope laid in the hands of the ISAF fighter being sent to their aid.

"Air Ixiom, this is SkyEye. Please describe your situation." came a voice over the radio.

"Air Ixiom Flt. 702 here. Erusian fighters are closing in on us at 23,000 ft. Please hurry!" said the Captain of 702, another flight carrying the Stonehenge developers.

Reaching for the radio, Nagase answered the hail. "Flt. 701 here. We were shot on takeoff and our captains injured. This is first officer Nagase." she replied through her oxygen mask, her voice shaky from the stress and fear.

"10-4, an escort is inbound. Both aircraft maintain your course." instructed SkyEye.

Her hands on the control were still shaking, but Nagase kept her composure, maintaining her current heading and speed.

Nagase watched the radar inside and noticed the single blip that appeared behind the fighter that was shooting at 702. A second later, the fighter disappeared, followed by another blip that appeared shortly after, meaning the ISAF escort had just arrived and dealt with the Erusian fighter. Nagase breathed a sigh of relief knowing their escort had arrived, until she noticed two more bogies on the radar approaching them.

"Flt. 701, can you raise altitude?" asked SkyEye, "This will assist the ISAF escort."

"Negative we cannot maintain cabin pressure if we climb." Nagase answered. Kei began to wonder if this escort could protect both flights since both were at dramatically different altitudes. That doubt was soon washed over when she noticed that as quickly as the bogies appeared on the radar screen, they had disappeared, leaving only the ISAF escort.

Nagase couldn't believe what she saw on her screen. The escort had descended from 23,000 ft and had destroyed both the Erusian interceptors all in the span of two minutes!

'Who is this guy?" she wondered in amazement.

Almost immediately, several new flights of Erusian fighters had appeared on radar. The escort saw this as it immediately turned around to engage the Eurusians.

"We just might make it after all with this escort." Nagase muttered under her breath, full of hope.

The groaning of the wounded captain brought her another situation. The Captain needed urgent medical care and the cockpit was not an ideal place to conduct the operation. The best chance for his survival was at the back of the plane where the emergencies were placed. However, that would mean they would have to transport him in front of all the scared passengers. But that was a risk she was willing to take if it meant to save her Captain.

"Take the captain to the back." She ordered, turning her head the flight attendants attending the Captain on the floor.

Nodding their heads, the gently picked up the wounded man, and carried him out the cockpit.

Bringing her head back to the controls, Nagase saw a Erusian fighter pass by only a few meters from them, the jet wash rocking the plane. Gripping the controls to keep the plane steady, she noticed a white streak chase after the fighter. Five seconds later the white streak made contact with the fighter, exploding the jet in a fiery burst.

"Flight 701, all enemy fighters have been neutralized, you are now clear of Erusian airspace." came Sky-Eye's voice.

Nagase sighed in relief, 'We made, we actually made!'

"Flt. 701 here, please thank the fighter." she radioed.

As she said her thanks she noticed to her right a single fighter flying beside her. A F-22 Raptor, a light blue-gray came covering the majestic fighter. But what caught Nagase's eye was the emblem on the wing of the fighter. A blue and black ribbon, the words Mobius-1 written under the insignia.

Nagase couldn't help but stare in utter amazement. This single fighter had taken on a whole flight of Erusian fighters and had not only managed to shoot all them down in quick succession, but not a single one managed to fire on the passenger planes.

As she continued to stare, she noticed the pilot, Mobius-1, staring back at her through the golden canopy of the Raptor, his face covered behind the breathing mask. Mobius-1 gave a quick two-finger salute before breaking away, out of sight of Nagase.

'Thank you… Mobius-1.'

000

All the pilots were roused bright and early the next day. There wasn't even a hint of dawn on the horizon.

"Ugh. Anyone know…" Chopper was cut off in mid-sentence by a massive yawn. He hadn't gone to bed at a decent hour last night as he was listening to rock and roll. "Anyone know what's going on?"

"Not a clue," Blaze answered, bags hanging low under his eyes as he also didn't get a decent amount of sleep thanks to a recurring nightmare he wish would go away. He was ranking a hand through his hair, clearly trying to get it to behave.

Kei used every ounce of will not to laugh at Crowe's predicament. He looked so funny with his normally straight hair all stuck up on one side, as if he slept on his head. Grimm shuffled through the door at the moment, looking half dead, took a seat, and let his head go forward, impacting the wooden table with a dull 'thud'.

Perrault chose that second as his opportunity and walked into the room. After chewing them all out on looking presentable, the briefing got underway.

"This it people," the pompous man said to all of them. "We're finally going to take the battle to the Yukes." His words sent electricity surging through each pilot, who all looked alert and ready. True to form, the Intelligence Officer took over to go into detail on their mission.

"The word has come down from the top. We are to launch our invasion of Yuktobania.

This invasion will have four divisions of infantry, labeled Alpha through Delta. The air support will consist of you four, carrying SDBs, two flights of F-1s with a similar load out, and various top cover aircraft with multi-role ordinance. The goal is to carve a foothill and establish a beachhead here." He used a laser pointer to draw a circle around the section they were to occupy on the sit-rep map.

"Your target, specifically, is the enemy command center, here." Again, he used the pointer to indicate their main target. "You are to go in and cause as much damage as possible to the enemy's command and control. With any luck, you four will be able to shorten this battle before it gets bogged down."

"Sir, I noticed that there are pillboxes and such along our forced projected route. What is being done about those?" Crowe asked.

"Excellent question, Lieutenant. The F-15s are going to go after them. Once the area has been secured, and an FAB constructed, A-10s will be landing at the base and continue to root out any remain opposition." Blaze nodded, satisfied. The A-10s would get the job done.

"Sir, what about enemy air support? What do we do about that?" Kei asked.

"Your primary mission is to support the ground forces," the Intel Officer replied, clearly not minding fielding their questions. "However, you will have a full gun and Sidewinders apiece. I don't think you four will have to worry about enemy counterattacks that much, what with your skills, but if you want to add a few more notches to your kills, go right ahead. A single lost aircraft is one more the enemy can't use against us. Are you all clear on your objectives?"

"Yes, sir." Blaze answered for the group.

"Okay then. Good luck. Dismissed. The four pilots rose and headed out the door, the next stop being the Ready Room and their equipment that resided there.