Chapter Text
No-one knows what happened to the Demons of Razgriz after the Circum-Pacific War. Speculated by some to be the former 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron of the Osean Air Force, they all but disappeared into legend, their work complete.
Listening to a radio broadcast while sitting in the driver's seat of a Unimog flatbed truck, Alex Williams scoffed, eyes on the highway ahead of him. A slight smile crossed his face. Rolling along that highway at high speed, the mechanic and ex-pilot looked out left to see where he was going in the distance; Naval Station Oured, the largest naval base in the country. Located in and around her docks were various warships, ranging from the small patrol boats used by security to the hulking aircraft carriers like the OFS Vulture II currently docked there.
Alex took an exit off the highway to approach the base's main entry. The four-lane asphalt road narrowed into four separate entry and exit points. Approaching one of the entrances, he was waved down to the check-in by a sailor. Alex rolled down his window. The cool morning breeze hit him.
'Morning Alex.' The sailor greeted him. The former was armed, an M4 rifle slung off his platecarrier. The customary nametag was born on the front of his hat, Kaiata.
'Morning John.' Alex replied in kind, passing Kaiata his ID card. The guard scanned it into a hand-held device, nodded and gave it back. 'Have a good day man.'
'Likewise.' Kaiata opened the gate for Alex to drive through. Thirty-two years old, Alex Blaze Williams was a former Osean Air Defence Force fighter pilot and leader of both the Wardog Squadron and the legendary Razgriz special flight unit. After the Circum-Pacific War some nine years ago, Alex retired from being a pilot and became a civilian aircraft mechanic. While matured compared to his wartime self, Blaze still had that part of aggression in him.
He came up to the parking lot, found one of many empty spots and parked. Blaze got out bringing a toolcase with him. Being one of the non-military personnel he was forced to go through administration before he could get to work on whatever the issue was for that day. Probably that one fucking Tomcat, he thought to himself as the dry air of the administration building hit him. A desk lady flagged him down to get Blaze into the base. The conversation was quick and to the point. ID, roster, checking attendence for the rest of the group. Easy.
Blaze was out and physically onto the base within a minute. The sun could be seen rising in the distance, casting a handful of destroyers into shadow. Despite being some of the smaller ships in the fleet, they were still intimidating to look at. Toolbox in hand, he took a second or two to observe the two ships in their glory. Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, Drake and Garrett, he decided. For an early morning start, the piers were surprisingly void. Much of the Osean Navy's 1st Fleet which was based in Oured was out at sea under Exercise Void Dragon. Preparation for some vessels to be deployed to the Arctic region. The only exceptions were some smaller patrol vessels, those two destroyers which were held back for security reasons and the aircraft carrier Vulture, which had been having issues with propulsion and weapons being the most recent addition to the Navy's carrier fleet.
Approaching closer to where he was meant to be, another one of the civilian contractors approached him from a restroom.
'Morning Ren.' Alex greeted the tall, stocky man.
Ren Renny Hogan smiled with pitch white teeth. 'Morning.' Compared to Alex, Renny was fucking massive at 6' 6" compared to the former's 5-11, finely muscled. The guy was a friendly person.
'What's the job for today?' Alex asked, eyes focused on a workshop behind the hangar section that housed the land-based aircraft for the connected airfield. Don't be the Tomcat, don't be the Tomcat-
'F-14, N37-001, avionics problem.'
Fuck. Alex exhaled to himself. 'Should have retired the fucking things. They're well out of date.'
'Yeah, but you try explaining that to the Navy.'
'Fair point.'
Meanwhile
MV Advent, large cargo vessel
Oured Bay
The bay waters were calm and clear, largely undisturbed. Perfect weather for naval operations.
The ship's captain rubbed a hand through crew-cut hair anxiously. One of the bridge crew noticed this.
'Captain, what's the chance this'll work?' She asked.
'It has to or this operation would be for nothing.' The captain replied quietly. He looked out onto the cargo vessel's forecastle and deck. Stacks of shipping containers were arranged neatly in various colours, greens and yellows and reds and blues.
'Captain, we're within optimal engagement range.' Another of the bridge crew informed the captain. The latter nodded.
'Launch the fighters. Destroy all high-priority targets on the base.'
On those cargo containers, the roofs of many started opening to reveal white constructs underneath. MQ-99 combat drones mounted on catapults hidden inside those cargo containers, small but agile and packing a punch in numbers. The captain gave a hand signal to his UAV operator and in puffs of steam each individual UAV launched into the air. They launched in rows. All 60 UAVs were airborne in under a minute.
Their target?
Naval Station Oured.
Naval Station Oured Airfield
Hangar 8, VFA-151 'Raiders'
Alex, Renny and a couple of Navy mechanics approached the Tomcat they were meant to be fixing up. The aircraft was an old bird, one of the last batches of F-14 that the Navy still operated. This particular aircraft was painted tones of light grey and a blue-white. To the other half of the hangar was an operational F/A-18C Hornet. Its pilot was gearing up for a routine sortie.
'Let's get these panels open. See what's up.' Alex decided, opening his toolbox. Among other tools, he grabbed out a screwdriver and spanner. He started opening the nose cone that housed the Tomcat's AWG-9 radar. The others opened panels underneath the nose and belly of the Tomcat looking for damage to wires, piping and basically anything electrical. Alex found himself lost in his work, maneuvering around the front end of the aircraft looking for any signs of damage or wear.
It wasn't until after the first hour that they found the problem.
'Renny?' Alex called out.
'Yo.' Renny answered, head inside the front landing gear's bay.
'I think I found the problem. Take a look.'
Renny crouched towards the front of the aircraft. Alex had a hand on the nose of the Tomcat next to the radar, his opposite hand pointing at a busted capacitor. Its cap was cracked at the top rendering it dead. Renny almost slapped himself when he saw it.
'Fuck me sideways.' He muttered.
Alex half-laughed before the P/A system cut him off. A male, one with a deep voice, boomed from it. The tone seemed urgent.
'Set base condition red, numerous unknown aircraft approaching.' Alex was confused. The fuck did I miss? He looked over to the Hornet on the other side of the hangar. Compared to the calm pace that the ground crew were working at an hour ago, they were now frantically fueling and arming the aircraft with a full anti-air loadout; Sidewinders, AMRAAMs and a loaded cannon. Without any warning, a proper battle alarm began to ring loudly. Alex recognised it as the general quarters alarm typically used on warships. The two navy mechanics were rushing to their battle stations. Alex followed by instinct.
Which was when an explosion and a hail of shrapnel ripped through the back wall of the hangar.
And everything went to shit.