September 24
A new day.
A new mission.
Emilie fastened the last zipper on her flight suit, exhaling as she took a moment to adjust to the snug fit. She turned toward the mirror, placing a hand on her hip, scrutinizing her own reflection.
"Great… I hope Captain Candace is in a good mood after yesterday..."
She scoffed softly. "But I highly doubt it."
Brushing off the thought, she stepped over to her desk, grabbing her helmet from the chair before heading out. Her boots echoed lightly against the polished floor as she made her way down the hall toward the briefing room.
By the time she arrived, nearly everyone was already seated, save for the Base Commander—who was expected to deliver the mission briefing. Emilie quietly took her usual seat beside Mona, crossing one leg over the other as she settled in.
"Looks like all we're waiting for is the Base Commander, huh?" she muttered.
Mona gave a slight nod. "That's right."
Right on cue, the doors swung open, and in walked the Base Commander, Courbevoie, followed closely by Captain Candace. The room snapped to attention, every pilot standing with precise, disciplined salutes.
Courbevoie returned the salute before lowering his hand. "At ease. Let's get this briefing started."
As everyone took their seats again, the room dimmed, and the large display screen flickered to life, illuminating a tactical map of the Fontaine airspace surrounding Petrichor.
"Alright. We've got word that an unidentified aircraft has violated Fontaine airspace."
He clicked a remote, and an aircraft silhouette appeared on the screen.
"We've confirmed the aircraft to be an SR-71 Blackbird."
A low murmur passed between a few pilots—unsurprising, given the notoriety of the aircraft. Emilie narrowed her eyes. An SR-71? In Fontaine airspace? That wasn't just a casual border incursion.
Courbevoie continued. "Despite multiple warnings, the aircraft refused to alter its course and continued to penetrate deeper into our territory. As a result, our coastal SAM batteries engaged it. We have confirmed that one of our surface-to-air missiles landed a hit, but the aircraft remains airborne."
He clicked the remote again, switching to another display. A grainy infrared image captured the sleek, dart-like shape of the reconnaissance jet.
"Your mission is to intercept the target, establish communications, and force it to identify itself. Your primary objective is to escort it to a controlled landing."
His tone darkened slightly. "You are not authorized to fire unless given explicit orders."
The screen shut off, leaving the room in silence for a brief moment before Captain Candace stepped forward.
"For this mission, I'll be leading the flight. Emilie, Mona, and Teppei—you're with me."
Emilie exchanged a glance with Mona before nodding.
"Alright," Candace continued. "Wolfsbane Squadron, suit up. Wheels up in fifteen."
The room stirred to life as the pilots rose from their seats, helmets in hand. They moved with quick efficiency, filing out toward the flight line.
As Emilie stepped through the door and into the open air of the base, she could already hear the distant whine of jet engines warming up.
This was going to be interesting.
At the apron, four aircraft stood ready.
One F-4 Phantom II—Captain Candace's aircraft.
And three F-5E Tiger IIs.
Emilie's jet, tail number 016.
Mona's, tail number 108.
Teppei's, tail number 204.
Emilie climbed the ladder to her F-5, settling into the ejection seat before pulling the shoulder harness over and strapping herself in. She adjusted the straps to a firm, comfortable fit, then slid her helmet on. A brief exhale fogged her visor before she flipped the canopy switch, sealing herself inside.
Ground crews moved swiftly, pulling away the boarding stairs and clearing from the wings.
With a flick of the engine master switches, the twin GE J85 turbojets spooled up, their whine growing into a sharp howl as they reached idle power. Emilie rolled her shoulders, shaking her head.
"For an auxiliary squadron, we need better planes than this…"
Right on cue, the radio crackled to life.
"Wolfsbane Squadron, follow me to the runway."
One by one, the flight acknowledged.
"Wilco."
"Roger."
Then Emilie.
"Roger."
She glanced left, watching as Candace's F-4 Phantom II rolled forward, followed by Mona and Teppei's F-5s. Releasing the parking brake, Emilie eased her throttle forward, taxiing into position behind Teppei.
One by one, they lined up at the runway threshold. Takeoff procedures were quick and precise. Candace went first, her F-4 roaring down the strip and lifting into the sky. Mona followed, then Teppei.
Emilie was last. She took a breath, then shoved the throttle to full military power. The J85s screamed as she hurtled forward, the airspeed indicator climbing rapidly. At 160 knots, she pulled back gently, and the jet lifted off, gear retracting with a firm clunk.
The four fighters settled into a tight diamond formation, skimming low along the coastline. The ocean stretched beneath them, sunlight glinting off the waves as their shadows streaked across the water.
They were nearing the target.
Candace keyed her radio.
"This is Wolfsbane One of Wolfsbane Squadron. Approaching the target."
A new voice cut in—calm but authoritative.
"This is AWACS, callsign Thunderspike. Roger. Bring the bogey to the ground. Do not fire unless authorized."
Candace responded immediately.
"Wilco."
Then, she switched to the squadron frequency.
"You got that, nuggets?"
Mona responded first.
"Wolfsbane Two, roger."
Then Teppei.
"Wolfsbane Three, roger."
Emilie stayed silent for a moment.
Candace's voice came again.
"Wolfsbane Four. Raven? You understand the message?"
Emilie sighed, then keyed her mic.
"Wolfsbane Four. Understood."
Candace gave a slight nod.
"Okay. Sounds like you're confident… at least."
Teppei chimed in with his usual enthusiasm.
"I'm glad I get to see some action again!"
Candace sighed.
"Second Lieutenant Teppei, cut the chatter. Do you need a callsign, too?"
Teppei grinned.
"I prefer to be called Herring, ma'am!"
"Sadly, though, I may not respond to any other moniker!"
Candace exhaled sharply.
"Well… at least that name suits you well." She paused. "Though I've got a better one in mind. Best I keep it to myself…"
Teppei groaned.
"Aw, cut me some slack, Captain!"
Right on cue, their IFF displays updated.
A single contact.
SR-71 Blackbird. Low altitude.
Candace's voice sharpened.
"Tally-ho, nuggets. We've got our target."
She rolled her F-4 Phantom right, banking 50 degrees toward the intruder. The others followed, mirroring her maneuver with practiced precision.
Then, a direct order.
"Remember. You are forbidden to attack. Understood, Raven?"
Emilie groaned.
"No, I don't understand…"
Candace exhaled through her nose.
"Second Lieutenant Emilie, did you not listen? I said do not engage!"
Emilie smirked slightly.
"I heard you the first time, Captain. Ever heard of sarcasm?"
They leveled out, closing in on the Blackbird. Candace scanned her surroundings—then frowned.
Teppei had fallen behind.
She keyed her radio.
"Motormouth Herring, where are you?"
Teppei's eye twitched.
"Wh-what!? That's your nickname for me!?"
Candace shook her head.
"You've got a knack for comic dialogue, Teppei. Mind sending our friends in the SR-71 a surrender form?"
Teppei chuckled.
"Sure thing, Captain."
Switching to COM 3, he keyed his radio.
"Uhh… hello? Is this thing on?"
He cleared his throat.
"Unidentified aircraft, this is Wolfsbane Three of Fontaine Air Force. Set your course to the Petrichor VOR immediately."
Candace smirked slightly.
"I'm impressed, Teppei."
Teppei continued.
"Follow the VOR radial. We will escort you to Petrichor Air Force Base. Lower your landing gear if you acknowledge this transmission."
The SR-71 banked right—90 degrees, turning directly toward the Petrichor VOR beacon.
Emilie keyed her mic.
"Looks like they're complying."
Candace nodded.
"Good."
The Blackbird leveled out, maintaining a steady course.
Then—
AWACS Thunderspike's voice came through. Urgent.
"Alert, Wolfsbane Squadron! High-speed bogeys inbound!
"Bearing 280. Altitude, 4,000 feet!"
"Hold fire until further orders!"
Candace twitched.
"Hold our fire?"
She scoffed.
"Tch. I'm not losing any nuggets today."
The radio crackled.
"Obey orders, Captain Candace."
Candace shook her head. Her eyes flicked to her radar.
"Four enemy aircraft. Heading right at us."
She exhaled sharply.
"Wait for further orders."
The squadron widened their formation, keeping their distance. But then—
A sharp, urgent beeping blared through their cockpits.
Missile warning.
Candace's heart rate spiked.
"EVERYONE BREAK FORMATION! BREAK FORMATION!"
She yanked her stick back and climbed high.
Emilie did the same.
Mona broke right.
Teppei peeled left.
His panicked voice cut through the radio.
"They're firing at us!!"
AWACS Thunderspike remained firm.
"Weapons safe, Wolfsbane Squadron! Hold your fire until further orders!"
Emilie's eye twitched.
"Are you kidding me? They're firing real missiles at us!"
Candace's voice turned sharp.
"All planes—FIRE BACK!"
Emilie exhaled sharply, her grip tightening.
"Finally!"
She rammed her throttles forward.
"Raven, engaging!"
AWACS Thunderspike's voice snapped back.
"Captain Candace, you are violating direct orders!"
Emilie ignored them. She pulled hard left, lining up behind one of the enemy fighters.
Her HUD updated—Mirage 2000s.
A solid lock.
A tone.
"Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders streaked from her rails. She banked hard, breaking left as the missiles found their mark.
A fireball erupted mid-air.
"Raven, splash!"
Candace downed another Mirage 2000 before keying her radio.
"Shove it, Thunderspike! I'm not losing any more nuggets today!"
The others followed suit.
Mona's voice rang out.
"Starseer, engaging!"
Then Teppei.
"Herring, engaging!"
The sky erupted into chaos.
Mona and Teppei tangled with the remaining Mirages. Emilie was already hunting her next target.
Her second Mirage weaved aggressively. She shadowed its every move, keeping her nose locked onto its tail.
Then—
The enemy jet snapped into a vertical climb.
Emilie reacted instantly, pulling hard on her stick and slamming the throttles to full power. The Tiger II's J85 engines roared as its afterburners ignited.
Her HUD chirped.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
Twin Sidewinders streaked away.
She pulled her throttles to idle, pitching over into a vertical descent before pushing back to power, leveling out.
An explosion rocked the sky behind her.
AWACS Thunderspike's voice snapped back.
"Captain Candace, hold your fire!"
Candace scoffed as she pursued another Mirage.
"Not bad, Raven!"
Then, to Thunderspike—
"Shut that trap of yours, Thunderspike!"
She fired a missile before banking right. Another direct hit.
But then—
A new transmission crackled over their frequencies.
"Four more fighters inbound to the recon plane's location."
Teppei groaned.
"Are you kidding me? There's more?!"
He fired. A missile streaked away, slamming into another Mirage 2000.
"Splash one!"
Candace smirked.
"Not bad, Herring. You might just get another serving soon."
Teppei shook his head.
"My only regret is not flying with a captain with a sunnier mood today."
AWACS Thunderspike's voice cut through again.
"Wolfsbane Squadron, I said HOLD YOUR FIRE!"
They ignored it.
Mona intercepted one of the new bogeys—MiG-21s.
She dove in from above, flipping into a sharp 180-degree bank. The MiG jinked left, then right, but she stayed locked on.
Her HUD chimed.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
Twin Sidewinders lanced toward the MiG-21, slamming into its fuselage.
"Starseer has a splash!"
AWACS Thunderspike came back.
"Enemy recon plane is shot down."
Candace smirked.
"Aww, what a shame. Got too tired from our bandit party?"
Emilie, meanwhile, lined up another MiG-21.
It was coming straight at her.
A head-on showdown.
Her breath steadied as she stared at her HUD, waiting.
"Come on… come on…!"
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
She fired.
Twin missiles screamed forward, colliding with the MiG-21 head-on.
She blasted through the fireball, breaking left toward the last two bogeys.
Candace's voice reminded them all—
"Watch your six. Stick to the fundamentals. And don't get cocky."
Emilie scoffed, climbing into a steep ascent after her next target.
The MiG-21 snapped into a dive.
Emilie flipped her Tiger II inverted and followed it down.
Meanwhile, Teppei was grunting under high Gs, unknowingly broadcasting over the radio—
"GAAAAHHHHHH! ARGGHHHHHH!"
Candace chuckled.
"Hey, Wolfsbane Squadron. Your planes functioning normally?"
Emilie gritted her teeth.
"Hell no! We need better planes! These are too analog!"
Teppei chimed in.
"Yeah! These birds are antiques! We need something with actual tech!"
Candace sighed.
"Doesn't matter. Keep fighting."
Emilie turned back to the fight, pulling into a tight right-hand turn.
Her HUD lit up.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Three!"
A pair of missiles streaked away.
A fireball bloomed in the sky.
"Raven's got a bandit!"
Then—another explosion.
"Starseer's got the target!"
Then, silence.
Finally, AWACS Thunderspike's voice cut through.
"All unknown aircraft destroyed."
Emilie exhaled, leveling out into a stable flight.
Candace keyed her radio.
"All planes, can you hear my voice?"
Emilie responded first.
"Yes."
Then Teppei.
"Loud and clear."
Then Mona.
"Affirm, ma'am."
Candace nodded.
"Good. Looks like we all made it."
She let out a breath.
"To commemorate that, I'm letting you keep 'Raven,' Emilie."
A small smirk.
"You're not bad at all."
Emilie nodded but chose not to reply.
The four jets regrouped, joining formation as they made their way back to Petrichor Air Force Base.
Mission complete.
For now.
Hours later, all aircraft returned to Petrichor Air Force Base without incident. The adrenaline of combat had worn off, leaving only fatigue and unanswered questions.
Inside the crew briefing room, Emilie returned from the bathroom, drying her hands on her flight suit when she noticed something off. She frowned, placing a hand on her hip.
"Where's Captain Candace?"
The base commander, a man with sharp eyes and a tired expression, looked up from a stack of documents.
"I was just about to address that." He exhaled, setting a folder aside. "Captain Candace had to report to Base Headquarters in Marcotte. Higher-ups want her there immediately."
Emilie raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"That's above your clearance, Lieutenant." His voice was firm but not dismissive. "What happened out there today is now classified at the highest level. Central Command has issued a gag order. No discussions. No reports. Nothing leaves this room."
Silence hung in the air like a storm cloud. The unspoken tension pressed against the pilots like the cockpit's crushing G-forces.
"You're all dismissed," the commander finally said. "Await further orders."
Without another word, the pilots stood and dispersed, making their way to their quarters.
Emilie, still deep in thought, pushed open the door to her room. She set her flight helmet on the desk before removing her glasses. Walking over to the window, she leaned against it, allowing the cool evening breeze to brush against her face.
She exhaled sharply, her mind racing.
"What's going on…?"
She had seen those aircraft. Mirage 2000s. MiG-21s. Not Teyvat Air Force standard. Certainly not from Fontaine's arsenal.
"Why were they in Fontaine's airspace?"
Her eyes traced the dark waters beyond Petrichor's coast. The ocean stretched into the distance, its vast expanse hiding whatever forces lurked beyond the horizon.
"But across that ocean..."
Her gaze hardened.
"That's Natlan airspace."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Are they… Natlan aircraft?"
She had no way of knowing for sure. No proof, no confirmation—only speculation. But something deep in her gut told her the answer was clear.
Across the waters of Petrichor lay Natlan's maritime territory. And beyond that? An airbase. A stronghold. A staging ground.
A cold feeling settled in her stomach.
Was this an accident? A rogue unit? Or…
Was this the first sign of war?