October 4
09:45 Hours
Petrichor Air Force Base – Mess Hall
The mess hall was alive with noise—metal trays clinking, silverware tapping against ceramic, chairs scraping against polished floors. The voices of young cadets, fresh off transport from North Dornman, filled the room with a chaotic but comforting hum. The rookies that Emilie, Teppei, Mona, and Ayaka had escorted back had begun settling into the rhythm of their new home.
At a central table, surrounded by half-eaten plates and steaming mugs, sat the four pilots—veterans compared to the fresh-faced crowd around them.
Emilie stabbed a piece of scrambled egg with her fork when Mona, sitting across from her with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, Emilie," Mona began, leaning forward. "I've been meaning to ask—how'd you get your callsign? 'Raven'?"
Emilie glanced up mid-bite, then gave a short laugh.
"Oh, that," she said, setting her fork down and wiping her mouth. "There's two reasons, actually."
She held up one finger. "First one: I wear glasses."
Mona blinked. "Seriously?"
Emilie smirked, raising a second finger. "Second—and the real reason? I've got a sharp eye. If something's off—anything out of place—I catch it almost immediately."
Mona nearly choked on her coffee. "What?!"
She coughed into her sleeve before setting the mug down. "I highly doubt it's because of the glasses—but that sharp eye part? Yeah, I'll buy that."
Emilie chuckled. "That's what Captain Candace said anyway. She gave me the name after I spotted an ambush from ten klicks out—before it was even on radar."
She patted her mouth with a napkin and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "And that's how 'Raven' stuck."
Teppei grinned, pointing his fork toward her. "Well, you do live up to the name, Captain."
But the relaxed tone shattered in an instant.
The mess hall doors slammed open with a bang that silenced the entire room.
A sergeant from base operations rushed in, his boots thudding heavily on the tile. "All personnel, alert! Multiple Natlan naval vessels and aircraft inbound—vectoring toward Petrichor Island!"
Before anyone could fully react, Commander Courbevoie entered behind him, calm and collected, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"If this turns into a ground war," he declared, "we will defend this base to the bitter end. All aircraft capable of anti-ship operations are to be launched—regardless of combat experience."
Murmurs rippled through the room like aftershocks.
Emilie stood up so quickly her chair scraped loud across the floor. "Sir! With all due respect, the rookies aren't ready for this! They've barely grasped air-to-air, let alone air-to-ground!"
Courbevoie's eyes narrowed as he jabbed a finger toward her. "Follow orders, Captain. I'm not repeating myself."
Emilie's fists clenched. "You damn idiot. They're just kids!"
The commander didn't even flinch. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Step out of line again and I will cite you for insubordination."
He turned on his heel and marched off.
Emilie glared after him, arms crossed, jaw tight. "What a fucking idiot."
No more words. Just movement.
The four pilots bolted from the mess hall, the air around them suddenly filled with urgency. Outside, the flight line was already in a frenzy—APUs whining, ground crews shouting over the sound of hydraulic systems, jet engines spooling up like angry beasts.
The rookies scrambled into their old F-5E Tiger IIs, still green, still unsure. Meanwhile, Emilie, Teppei, Mona, and Ayaka made for their F-14A Tomcats—sleek, ready, and twice the weight in firepower.
Emilie glanced toward the chaos, shaking her head as she jogged.
"That base commander is really starting to piss me off," she muttered. "He's sending up rookies who barely know how to dogfight. And now he wants them going after ships?"
Teppei, running beside her, raised a finger to his temple and spun it. "Guy's got a screw loose. If we lose any of our nuggets today... I swear I'm gonna lose it."
Mona spoke up from behind. "We just have to support them the best we can. All four of us."
Emilie nodded. "That's the plan."
The four split up, heading to their birds.
Climbing the ladder to her Tomcat's cockpit, Emilie settled into the pilot's seat. She strapped in, tightened the harness across her chest, secured her helmet, and slammed the canopy shut.
Switches flicked. Fuel pumps primed. Her twin TF30 engines roared to life behind her.
The deck shook with the power of jet engines as she disengaged the parking brake and began taxiing.
One by one, Mona, Teppei, and Ayaka followed, their Tomcats rolling behind hers across the tarmac, sunlight glinting off the black-and-grey skin of the planes.
By 10:00 hours, they were lined up on the runway.
"Raven, ready for takeoff," Emilie called over comms.
The tower cleared them. Throttles full forward.
The four F-14s screamed into the sky, afterburners glowing hot as they climbed and banked southwest—toward the oncoming Natlan fleet.
Behind them, the twelve rookies followed in staggered formations. But even as they formed up, six of them broke off to hold defensive position around Petrichor Island—an impromptu home guard for what could be a brutal incoming strike.
The air war was about to begin.
Over Waters, 600 Feet AGL
The four Tomcats formed up into combat positions, wingtip to wingtip, gliding low over the ocean like predatory birds scanning the waters below.
Then, their radios crackled to life.
"This is AWACS Thunderspike. All units, listen closely."
Teppei grinned under his oxygen mask.
"Oh man, I missed that sweet, sweet voice."
He keyed the mic again, light sarcasm in his tone.
"Say, Thunderspike, did you get that radio voice from your momma's side of the family, or your daddy's?"
Thunderspike let out a sharp sigh.
"Cut the chatter. Enemy wave bearing 230. You are cleared to engage."
Mona's voice followed, tinged with concern.
"It's too risky bringing the rookies out here..."
Emilie nodded.
"Agreed. But there's no going back now."
Teppei exhaled sharply.
"I'm with you. Hell, they're still getting used to their jets—now they've gotta handle air-to-air and air-to-ground?"
Emilie pushed her throttles forward, holding back afterburners to conserve fuel.
"Raven, engaging."
The others followed.
"Herring, engaging."
"Soumetsu, engaging."
"Starseer, engaging."
Ahead of them, a wall of sea spray and smoke: two Natlan high-speed hovercraft, cutting through the waters like blades.
Emilie dropped into a shallow dive, flipping the rotary selector to AIM-9 Sidewinders. Her IFF beeped. Target locked. Tone steady.
"Fox Two!"
The missile detached and screamed toward the lead craft.
As Emilie banked left to line up on the second, a shockwave rippled through her airframe—behind her, the first hovercraft erupted in a fireball, debris and water flung skyward.
She leveled out, got tone, and squeezed the trigger again.
"Fox Two!"
Climbing slightly, she pulled up just as the Sidewinder found its mark. The second hovercraft detonated, throwing a tower of water hundreds of feet high.
She cut through the rising mist with calm precision.
Her radio came alive again—this time a rookie's voice.
"Captain? Do you ever get scared?"
Emilie blinked at the question, then nodded to herself.
"Of course. Sometimes."
"I see… So you're just like us."
Emilie chuckled.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
The comms lit up with more action:
"Starseer's got a target hovercraft!"
"Down goes a landing craft!"
"Soumetsu's got an enemy Apache!"
Then a ground-based transmission:
"This is Petrichor Island Base Defense! Enemy amphibious force intercepted at the coastline!"
Teppei groaned.
"Ah, great… Here we go…"
Emilie spotted new targets: an AH-64 Apache and a massive Natlan landing ship.
"Fox Two!"
The missile launched, striking the Apache dead-on.
Emilie immediately toggled to her GBU-10s, rolled level, and adjusted her position. The HUD's circular reticle floated over the landing ship's deck.
It aligned.
"Bombs away, bombs away!"
A single GBU-10 fell from the Tomcat's belly. Emilie yanked back hard, pulling the aircraft into a steep climb as the bomb plummeted.
The detonation was massive—fire, smoke, and seawater erupted in a towering cloud.
"Landing ship down!"
Mona came through next.
"Nice one, Emilie!"
"Herring's got another landing ship!"
"Soumetsu took down an enemy helo and frigate!"
Emilie rolled inverted, scanning through the canopy.
"Enemy frigate spotted."
She rolled out, swept the wings fully forward manually, then slammed throttles to idle. She yanked the stick back with both hands—her left hand bracing her right as she flipped the Tomcat into a high-angle pitch.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders shrieked off the rails. She slammed the throttles to full afterburner and hauled the stick again, returning to level flight.
Master reset—wings back to auto.
Thunderspike confirmed:
"Enemy frigate down!"
Enemy comms crackled, panicked:
"We lost majority of our fleet!"
"Keep going! We'll do what it takes to invade their island!"
Then, to everyone's annoyance, Colonel Courbevoie keyed in:
"Everyone! This is Colonel Courbevoie at base command! Do everything you can to stop this assault!"
"If you can't protect this island, what will we tell our great heroes in the skies?!"
Ayaka rolled her eyes.
"What the hell is he saying now? 'Great heroes?' The man's got screws loose."
Teppei scoffed.
"Please. He's probably got a whole different speech lined up for us when we land."
Courbevoie's voice came again, this time melodramatic:
"Airborne Attack Squadron! Don't worry about us! We will stand firm and fight to the end!"
Ayaka sighed.
"What a fucking tearjerker..."
Another shockwave rippled across the water.
"Starseer took down another landing ship!"
"Herring's got another frigate!"
"Raven has another landing ship!"
But then—Emilie caught it. A flicker. A radar spike that didn't belong.
Her blood ran cold.
"Alert! Enemy missile launch—submarine origin!"
Ayaka's startled voice cracked through the radio.
"Huh—what!?"
Emilie didn't hesitate.
"EVERYONE, CLIMB ABOVE FIVE THOUSAND! YOU TOO, NUGGETS—FULL BURN, NOW!"
She shoved both throttles past the detents, slamming them into afterburner. The twin TF30s roared with a thunderous bellow, flames erupting from the exhaust as the F-14A surged skyward. She pulled hard on the stick—nose rising sharply as the Tomcat began a vertical climb.
Teppei barked into his mic, voice clipped and fast.
"Climb, climb, climb! Let's go, baby! Get up there!"
Then AWACS Thunderspike's voice came over the net, laced with tension.
"Confirmed! Missile type is burst—multiple warheads expected to separate mid-air. Everyone stay above dispersal ceiling!"
Emilie's jaw tightened.
"Shit… That's just like the one they fired off the strait near Dornman."
Then Thunderspike again—sounding suddenly confused.
"Wait… I'm getting a command override… Data link re-routing—something's interfacing with our system. Standby..."
Emilie grit her teeth, eyes darting to her RWR and altimeter.
"Make up your damn mind already!"
She leveled off at 7,000 feet, sweeping her canopy left and right.
Dots—dozens of them—glimmered high above and scattered across the sky.
"Looks like they made it too…"
Thunderspike came back, voice distracted.
"Strange… now it's showing a countdown."
Teppei looked down from his cockpit—his voice suddenly tight.
"Shit! The nuggets—they're not gonna clear the burst zone in time!"
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
A split second of silence—then it came.
A violet-blue beam tore down from orbit.
Like a divine sword, it carved through the atmosphere at impossible speed—tracking something.
Emilie's heart jumped into her throat.
"Shit! Breaking away—breaking right! That thing's a fucking laser!"
The sky lit up. A blinding flash flared just below their altitude.
Thunderspike came back, shouting now.
"Missile vaporized mid-air! It's gone! I repeat, burst missile neutralized!"
Emilie rolled inverted and dropped her nose, diving hard toward the sea again—eyes scanning for the final landing ship in the distance.
"Raven back on the attack!"
Teppei's voice cracked on the net, half-laughing, half-shocked.
"Did you see that, Captain!?"
Emilie keyed back as she dropped lower.
"Yeah—I saw it. That thing nearly fried me on the way through!"
Then Mona chimed in, tone skeptical but awed.
"Wait a minute... is that the Skywarden!?"
Thunderspike didn't miss a beat.
**"Affirmative. Laser beam originated from orbital altitude. We have confirmation—Skywarden is live. It's on our side!"
Enemy comms bled through the open channels, frantic and panicked.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!? WHAT IS THAT LASER!?"
"WE'VE LOST MOST OF OUR LANDING SHIPS! PULL BACK!"
Emilie switched to her special weapons mode.
The HUD changed. She tracked the final landing vessel—lined up the circular reticle.
"Bombs away—bombs away!"
Two cluster bombs dropped clean from her hardpoints. She yanked the stick back—hard. Her left hand slid behind her right, bracing for g-forces as the F-14 strained to pull out. The TF30s screamed as she barely cleared the water.
Then—
Impact.
A massive detonation. The last Natlan landing ship vanished in a pillar of smoke, seawater rocketing skyward like a geyser.
"Raven's got a target! Splash one LST!"
Then another voice broke in—calm, clipped, military.
"This is anti-sub patrol Pegasus. Our sonar buoys picked up an underwater contact—pattern analysis confirms: it's the Leviathan. Faxi-class carrier submarine."
Thunderspike followed immediately.
"Second missile launch detected! Confirmed data link established—Skywarden is tracking!"
Emilie rolled left—then caught movement ahead.
An enemy Apache.
Too close. Too high.
She didn't wait.
Split throttles—left engine to idle, right to full burner. She kicked hard left rudder, rolled inverted, and let the asymmetric thrust bite in.
The F-14A snapped into a tight turn—far sharper than the Apache expected.
She equalized the throttles and leveled out.
Now behind it.
Lock tone.
"Fox Two!"
A single AIM-9 Sidewinder streaked from her right wing rail. The Apache didn't stand a chance. It exploded in a fireball—rotors and debris spiraling down into the waves.
A rookie's voice came through the comms—young, shaken, but alive.
"I'm gonna make it! I'm staying alive!"
Another answered, firm but encouraging.
"Your plane's weaving—easy on the stick! Trim it out!"
Then Thunderspike confirmed again, calm now—relieved.
"Second missile intercepted. Vaporized mid-air. Skywarden has neutralized the threat."
On open channels, enemy pilots were panicking again.
"That light again! What is that thing!?"
"I don't know, but we have to keep pushing—GO!"
But then...
Escalation.
The Anti-Ship Patrol Plane's voice cracked through the comms, tense and rattled:
"Alert! Two—wait... no... three—four—FIVE! Five burst missiles launched! Repeat, five burst missiles inbound!"
Emilie's eyes twitched as the warning set in. Her heart slammed into overdrive.
"That's too many!" she snapped.
Without hesitation, she slammed the twin throttles forward. The TF30s behind her screamed into full afterburner, twin plumes lighting up as she yanked the stick back, snapping the F-14A's nose toward the heavens.
"Come on Skywarden! Use that laser!" Mona barked over the radio, the fear clear beneath her iron tone.
Then—the blinding white pulse of directed energy lanced out from the flying fortress high above.
AWACS Thunderspike:
"Missile vaporized!"
"But there's more coming!" Mona yelled. "Come on, Nuggets! MOVE IT!"
Rookie voices crackled across the comms in panic.
"Following flight leads! Climbing!"
"Climb! Climb, dammit!"
"Switching to emergency power!"
The countdown started. Emilie's HUD flashed with inbound trajectories—too many to track individually. She scanned the chaos, a glimmer of dread in her chest.
"Ten seconds to impact!"
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Bursting. Now!"
Emilie leveled out, gritting her teeth. She looked down.
White explosions bloomed across the coastline like hell's own fireworks—massive shockwaves rolling outward as columns of saltwater and flame erupted from the surface.
The rookies' comms lit up with pure chaos.
"Engines and wings damaged—I'm going down!"
"Ejection handle's jammed—I can't get out!"
"Losing altitude—this is it!"
"Ma'… I love you!"
Ayaka's voice was brittle, barely above a whisper:
"They... they're all going down..."
Emilie slammed her palm on the console, hard enough to make the cockpit rattle.
"FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK!!!"
Thunderspike sighed heavily over the comms.
"We can't deal with the enemy fleet like this."
Then came a new voice—gritty, urgent, from coastal defense:
"This is Petrichor Base Defense! Intense fighting along the coastline—we can't hold on much longer!"
Thunderspike again: "We have no choice. Just weave through the missiles and attack the ships!"
Teppei's voice broke in, his sarcasm cutting through the comm static:
"Oh yeah! Sure! Just weave through the fucking missiles—WHAT ARE YOU, NUTS!?"
Then—
Skywarden:
"Pegasus, this is Skywarden! Any update on those sonar buoys!? We need that data!"
Pegasus:
"Skywarden, this is Pegasus. Uploading sonar data to your feed now—stand by."
Another update rang out:
"Starseer's got the final frigate!"
"Soumetsu has taken down the last landing ship!"
Emilie spotted the last hovercraft skimming toward shore. She rolled into a dive.
Lock. Tone.
"Fox Two!"
Two AIM-9s burst from under her wing pylons, trailing smoke. Emilie yanked the stick, rolling out of the dive and into a steep climb.
Impact.
A fireball erupted where the hovercraft used to be.
Then—another blinding pulse.
"Firing laser!"
Thunderspike:
"Skywarden has fired into the ocean!"
Pegasus came back with urgent data.
"An explosion! The Leviathan is surfacing! Coordinates uploaded!"
Emilie glanced down.
A massive column of seawater shot up—then the black, jagged outline of a monster breached the surface.
The Leviathan.
A gaping hole yawned across the top of its hull—bleeding vapor and fire.
Mona gasped.
"It... it's huge!"
Thunderspike:
"Looks like it's lost its diving capabilities. All units, commence attack!"
Emilie rolled right and dove toward the wounded behemoth. She flicked the selector to GBUs.
HUD aligned—circle-on-circle.
"Bombs away!"
Four GBU-10s detached cleanly from her Tomcat's belly. She yanked back on the stick, roaring into a vertical climb.
Four impacts.
The Leviathan shuddered under the hits—but it stayed afloat.
Thunderspike:
"Leviathan still operational!"
Pegasus:
"They're preparing another burst missile launch!"
Mona turned sharply, angling for another bombing run.
"It's... it's like something out of Fontaine's demon legends."
"Bombs away!"
Two more GBUs plunged down—two more clean hits.
Ayaka keyed in, her voice hard but hopeful:
"Captain! If we sink the Leviathan here—now—can we turn the tide of this war?"
Emilie's voice was cold steel:
"Yes."
Ayaka:
"I hope so. We've been on the defensive for too long!"
Emilie inverted and rolled into another bombing dive. She switched to her final loadout.
HUD steady. Target locked.
"Bombs away! Bombs away!"
Four GBUs dropped—each a silent promise of vengeance. She pulled hard out of the dive, banking right.
The bombs struck.
The Leviathan's hull buckled—the internal detonation buried deep.
Unknown to the attackers, one bomb had struck just beside its last working reactor.
The beast began to list forward—front end plunging into the sea.
Then—
A blinding flash. The water parted with fire. The sky turned white.
A chain-reaction explosion tore through the submarine's spine.
The Leviathan was no more.
Emilie stared down, heart racing, and pumped her fist in the air.
"YES! YES!! The Leviathan is GONE!"
"That's what I'm talking about!"
Cheers burst through the comms:
"Nice one!"
"We got it!"
"YAHOOOO!"
Then—the base came in.
"This is Petrichor Base Defense. Enemy forces are retreating!"
AWACS Thunderspike:
"All planes—mission accomplished. Return to base."
The four planes rejoined into an element. Wingtip to wingtip, they turned northeast.
Heading home.
Minutes Later – Petrichor Air Force Base
The mood on the apron was grim.
Twelve rookie planes had flown out.
Only two made it back.
Emilie stood silently at the nose of her F-14A Tomcat. Her helmet rested under one arm. Mona, Teppei, and Ayaka stood just behind her, but none of them dared speak.
Her right fist clenched.
Tighter.
And tighter.
Mona could feel the tension radiating off her.
"I've never seen Emilie this angry before..."
Without a word, Emilie turned sharply and walked toward the main building of the base, boots hitting the pavement with a hollow rhythm.
Inside the halls, an officer in fatigues stepped forward.
"Captain. The debriefing's about to start."
Emilie didn't even look at him. She shoved past, her voice low and flat.
"No fucking way... Not after what just happened."
The officer turned to the others as they stopped in their tracks. Mona avoided his eyes. Teppei folded his arms. Ayaka stared down the corridor Emilie had stormed through.
The officer raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with the Captain?"
Mona answered, voice hollow. "The rookies... the nuggets we escorted from North Dornman…"
She paused.
"Only two made it back."
His expression stiffened.
"…Two? Out of how many?"
Ayaka's voice was soft, almost a whisper.
"Four. Twelve went up. Only four made it through the burst missile barrage. Only two made it home."
Teppei spat off to the side, frustration in his voice. "They could've sent a damn veteran unit for that defense! Why'd they put fresh kids in a hot zone like that?"
Then—
A door slammed down the hall.
"FUCK!!"
The outburst echoed through the halls like a gunshot.
All three of them flinched.
"…Ouf," Teppei muttered.
Mona sighed, shaking her head.
"She's not taking this well…"
Inside Emilie's Quarters
The room was quiet, but the rage hung in the air like smoke after a fire.
Emilie stood at the window, arms stiff at her sides, fists still trembling.
Head bowed.
"…Fuck."
She whispered it again, almost to herself.
"Fuck…"
Her shoulders tensed.
She bit her lip, eyes wet and burning.
"I'm sorry, nuggets… I'm so sorry…"
Outside, the sun dipped toward the horizon. Petrichor Air Base buzzed faintly with evening activity. The allied forces had secured a clear victory today—sinking the Leviathan and forcing the Natlan fleet into full retreat.
But it didn't feel like a victory.
Not after the cost.