November 2nd – The Following Day
10:10 AM
Petrichor Air Force Base
The base was alive again.
Engines roared in the distance. Hangar doors rumbled open. Flight crews hustled across the tarmac with practiced rhythm, prepping aircraft under the sharp morning sun. The scent of jet fuel and fresh paint hung in the air like a badge of honor.
Emilie, Mona, Teppei, and Ayaka walked together through the hallway leading to the briefing room.
"Wonder what our operation is today?" Ayaka asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Teppei stretched his arms with a groan. "Beats me. As long as it's not another patrol mission, I'm happy. I swear, I'm done with patrols—boring as hell."
Emilie chuckled. "You got that right."
Teppei glanced over at her. "Oh! Hey, you've heard that song, right? Face of the Coin?"
Emilie gave a half-nod. "Heard a bit of it, yeah."
Teppei grinned and raised a fist. "Yeah! Damn good tune, huh?"
Emilie shook her head with a slight smirk. "Not really my type of music... but sure."
They stepped into the briefing room and took their seats. Maksim stood at the front, arms behind his back, expression firm.
"All right. Let's begin."
He tapped a remote, bringing up satellite footage of a mountainous region in Mainland Natlan.
"Starting today, you're going on the offensive. This operation takes us into Mainland Natlan—Tepeacac Rise."
He clicked again, bringing up tactical maps with highlighted enemy movement corridors.
"Following our successful capture of their naval base at Tequemecan, Natlan's forces are retreating deeper inland. They're pulling back to regroup and reinforce their capital defense grid. That's our opening."
"They're conducting their withdrawal under a communications blackout. Expect enemy jamming signals. If you pick up distortion or dead zones, assume hostiles are nearby."
"Your objective is to pursue, disrupt, and destroy their retreating elements. Do not allow them to reestablish their defensive lines."
Maksim looked at each of them.
"You're the tip of the spear now. Make it count. Dismissed."
Without a word, the four rose and made their way to the flight line. The mood had shifted—focused, sharp, no chatter. Each of them peeled off toward their respective F-14A Tomcats.
Emilie climbed the ladder and dropped into the cockpit. The seat embraced her like an old friend. She scanned the panels—cold and silent. Time to bring the bird to life.
She flipped the switch on her altimeter from STBY to RESET. The display flickered, then turned black—indicating calibration. Next, she pressed the button to align the analog standby attitude indicator.
With muscle memory, she reached to the power panel and flicked the switches—VDI, HUD, HSD/ECM—bringing her displays online. Lights blinked to life. Systems buzzed in low hums.
She hit the Air Source selector to BOTH ENG, then reached behind and flicked on the oxygen supply.
Her right hand moved to the variable sweep wing lever—pushed all the way forward. The wings extended from their swept-back profile. She lowered the clear cover and pressed the Master Reset to engage automatic mode.
Then came the UHF radio—switches to GUARD and BOTH—and the TACAN selector to T/R.
She toggled the AFCS system—pitch, roll, yaw—on. Control surfaces confirmed with a soft twitch.
Systems up. Final checks.
She buckled her harness tight, sealed the chin strap on her helmet, and lowered the canopy. It hissed shut, locking with a mechanical clunk. The cockpit darkened slightly as reflections faded from the canopy glass.
Time for engine start.
She flicked the engine start switch to the right. The No.2 engine spooled up—RPM rising steadily.
At 25%, Emilie pushed the throttle from CUTOFF to IDLE. The fuel control opened, and the FF and TIT gauges surged as combustion kicked in. The engine stabilized.
Then she started the No.1 engine. Same process. RPM hit 25%. Throttle to IDLE. A roar climbed behind her. Now both TF30s were alive—growling like beasts in a cage.
She turned and signaled the ground crew.
Two techs moved fast. One crouched beneath the left main gear and disconnected the air unit, locking the hatch. The other slid under the nose and unplugged the ground power cable, slamming the panel shut. They gave her a thumbs up.
Emilie returned it, followed by a sharp salute.
She keyed her radio.
"Herring, Starseer, Soumetsu—do you read me?"
One by one, they responded:
"Loud and clear, Ma'am."
"Copy that, boss."
"Affirmative."
Emilie nodded. "All right. Let's move out. We've got work to do."
She released the parking brake and eased the throttles forward. The Tomcat rolled forward with a low rumble. Her squadmates followed in a tight formation.
They lined up on the runway—two by two.
Behind Emilie's left wing was Mona. Behind Mona's right was Teppei. And Ayaka trailed in line.
Emilie pushed both throttles to the stops. The afterburners lit—fire roared from the exhaust nozzles.
Her speed climbed rapidly.
120.
135.
150.
159...
164.
She pulled back gently on the stick.
The nose lifted. The main gear followed.
Positive rate. Gear up.
She raised the landing gear lever. The others followed suit, lifting into the sky one after another.
The four F-14As climbed together, wingtip to wingtip, slicing through the blue. The clouds ahead were streaked with gold.
Their mission had begun.
Mainland Natlan was waiting.
An hour into their flight.
They had reached the towering mountain ranges of Tepeacac Rise.
Emilie glanced at her HUD.
New targets.
A single F-14A.
And far ahead—one C-130 Hercules transport, moving fast.
She keyed her radio.
"All aircraft, jettison drop tanks. Time to engage."
She pressed the jettison switch.
The two external tanks detached from the F-14's belly, tumbling away into the clouds.
Her Tomcat, now lighter and more agile, surged forward as she pushed the throttles to military power.
"Raven, engaging," Emilie called out.
"Starseer, engaging," Mona replied next.
"Soumetsu, engaging," Ayaka followed in.
"Oh! Uh, my bad—Herring, engaging!" Teppei finished, just a second behind the others.
Emilie toggled her weapons selector to SAAMs.
Her targeting reticle circled the enemy Tomcat.
She squeezed the trigger.
"Fox One!"
A single SAAM roared off its pylon, trailing a curling white contrail through the air.
Moments later, a flash in the distance—direct hit. The hostile F-14 had barely reacted before it was vaporized.
"Raven has a bandit! Move in on the transport planes!" Emilie radioed.
As she closed in on the C-130, her HUD suddenly lit up with dozens—no, hundreds—of new contacts.
Her eyes narrowed.
"W-What the hell?"
Mona gasped. "Oh my god… That's unbelievable!"
Teppei came in, a mix of disbelief and dread in his voice.
"We gotta bag all these transports?!"
Ayaka's voice was calm, but uneasy. "You really think every one of these blips is airborne?"
Teppei scoffed.
"Well, let's ask them!"
He keyed his mic, voice sarcastic.
"Hey! How many of you are up and flying over there, huh?"
A dry, garbled voice replied over the open channel.
"Man, cry me a damn river."
Emilie squinted ahead, scanning the skies.
There—just above the horizon. Tiny moving specks. Real aircraft.
She keyed up again.
"Hey! I see actual planes out there—within the dozens. We're being spoofed!"
Teppei cut in, panicked.
"Are you sure!? My radar's lit up like a goddamn fireworks show!"
"No, visually, I've got eyes on them!" Emilie insisted.
Mona disagreed. "Raven, I'm still seeing all signatures showing up."
Emilie fired two more SAAMs.
"Fox One! Fox One!"
She held her flight path steady, the nose aligned perfectly as the missiles streaked away.
On the enemy's frequency, a voice crackled through the interference.
"Did the enemy plane get a tally-ho on us yet?"
Emilie's voice cut in over the squadron net.
"Listen to me! We're being spoofed! Think about it—Maksim said, 'Be on the lookout for enemy jamming signals.' This is it!"
Teppei hesitated. "So… it's a trick?"
Emilie knocked her helmet with a finger.
"Duh."
A sudden fireball erupted in the distance as one of her missiles struck true.
The C-130 exploded mid-air.
In an instant, the dozens of radar signatures blinked out.
"What the—!?" Teppei shouted.
"See!? Shot down a transport and the signals disappeared!"
She keyed again.
"Herring, Starseer—find those jammer aircraft!"
"Wilco. Starseer dispersing!" Mona said, already banking hard into a steep climb.
"Roger! Herring dispersing!" Teppei followed suit, vapor trails crisscrossing the sky as they broke formation.
AWACS Thunderspike's voice crackled through the comms.
"Don't let the jamming confuse you!"
Emilie groaned.
"Yeah, no kidding…"
She climbed slightly, banking right—eyes locked on a new signature.
A different transport this time. Bigger.
A C-17 Globemaster.
Then, above it—an E-3 Sentry.
The source of the jamming.
She keyed her mic.
"Enemy E-3 Sentry jammer spotted—engaging!"
She shoved the throttles forward—afterburners roaring.
Her Tomcat surged upward in a steep climb, almost vertical.
Thumb flicked the weapon selector—Sidewinders now armed.
Tone.
"Fox Two, Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders screamed off the rails, tracking up toward the lumbering Sentry.
Emilie leveled her wings and pushed over into a diving turn, nose aiming down on the C-17.
Above her, the Sidewinders found their mark.
A fireball blossomed in the sky.
Thunderspike's voice again:
"Enemy jammer plane down!"
Emilie pulled up from her dive. She was now tailing the C-17 directly.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Two more Sidewinders ripped through the air.
A direct hit. The C-17's right wing sheared off, spiraling toward the mountains below in a plume of smoke.
More reports came in over the squadron net.
"Starseer took an E-3 Sentry down!"
"Herring has another one!"
On the enemy frequency, panicked voices crackled.
"Our cover is blown!"
Emilie barely had time to react when her IFF blared out a missile lock alarm.
An enemy F-16 had her dead to rights.
But Emilie knew exactly how to shake it.
She snapped her F-14 hard to the right, the Tomcat rolling sharply, G-forces pressing into her chest. Her breath caught for a moment—but her hands were already in motion. She placed her left hand behind her right, gripping the stick tight, and yanked back with practiced force.
The F-14 surged upward in a brutal climb.
The F-16 tried to follow, but it was too slow to react.
Emilie reversed direction in a heartbeat. She slammed the stick forward—nose down.
The Tomcat's nose dropped violently, and Emilie lifted off her seat, held only by her harness as gravity shifted. She spotted the F-16 as it overshot, right in front of her.
She pulled hard again, leveling out her aircraft behind the enemy.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!" she shouted.
A Sidewinder missile shrieked from the rail and screamed toward its target.
Direct hit.
The F-16's rear erupted in a fireball, splitting from the forward fuselage as both halves spiraled downward.
Then—static.
"...ene...y...Ja...ng...Inter...rence..." Thunderspike's voice crackled through, fragmented by electronic jamming.
Another voice broke through, distorted but clear in intent:
"This is the 5050th Squadron Leader. All 5050th units—proceed as planned."
Teppei slammed his fist against his canopy.
"Da...mit... even our radios... can't..."
The enemy frequency suddenly bled through, corrupted by static.
"...A...ert! E...emy Sq...dron A...cking Ci...lian location!"
Teppei keyed his mic.
"Hey Mona! Yo... Th... Em...ie is th... Pr...est in th... Ai... For...ce?"
Mona chuckled through the distortion.
"Ha... Ye... I th... so... to..."
Teppei laughed.
"I a...ree! Em...ie, hah..."
Ayaka's voice cut in, urgent.
"It's ja...ed!"
Suddenly, Thunderspike's voice returned—still static-laced, but clearer now.
"ECCM! Restore communication links!"
An explosion echoed in the background.
"Starseer's got a bandit!"
Another burst of radio traffic.
"Soumetsu has another transport!"
Emilie's tone shifted. Her eyes locked on an F-15C streaking across her HUD. She rolled right, lined up the shot.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
The Sidewinder struck true. The enemy F-15's wing tore clean off as its nose separated from the tail, the aircraft splitting apart midair.
"Target hit! Target down!" Emilie called out.
Then came another enemy transmission, filled with panic:
"Teyvat planes are shooting at a college packed with students!"
Thunderspike roared across the channel:
"HEY! Whoever is doing that—STAND DOWN!"
Emilie's eyes twitched, her tone cold and sharp.
"Who the fuck is doing that!?"
Thunderspike came back, a mix of urgency and disbelief in his voice.
"That's reported in Sector Papa Alpha. Attacks on civilians are prohibited!"
Emilie fired back immediately.
"But that's our area of operation!"
Mona's voice joined in, frustrated.
"Yeah! Who's doing that!? We can't spot them!"
Emilie scanned her scope, shaking her head.
"No... My radar's clean."
She suddenly banked hard right, rolling ninety degrees and diving toward another blip—a C-17 transport.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders launched from beneath her wings, streaking after the transport.
Impact.
Its vertical stabilizer disintegrated, and the left wing sheared clean off. The burning wreck spiraled down in a flaming corkscrew.
The enemy frequency flared again:
"MULTIPLE CASUALTIES! GET AN AMBULANCE HERE FAST!"
"THESE ARE BLATANT WAR CRIMES FROM TEYVAT!"
Thunderspike cut in immediately:
"Raven, this is Thunderspike—did you attack a civilian facility!?"
"Are you insane!? HELL NO, WE DIDN'T!" Emilie snapped back.
"You've got us on radar, right!? We're taking these transports down—we're in the clear!"
She spotted the final target—a massive C-5 Galaxy.
Emilie lined up from its rear, the massive cargo plane filling her canopy.
Lock.
Tone.
She rolled left, banking ninety degrees, then leveled out.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Twin Sidewinders roared away from her Tomcat.
Direct hit.
The C-5's empennage ripped away from the fuselage. The aircraft violently pitched down, the entire airframe entering an uncontrollable vertical dive.
Then—radio silence.
For several long seconds, not a single transmission.
Then came the voice.
"All planes! All transports and jamming aircraft destroyed!"
"Return to base!"
Emilie exhaled, sweat beading at her brow.
"Right... Wolfsbane. RTB."
She eased the stick left, banking northeast—toward Deshret. Toward Petrichor.
One by one, the rest of her squadmates fell into formation behind her, leaving the battlefield behind.
Hours Later
Petrichor Air Force Base – Administrative Wing
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead as the four pilots stood in the narrow hallway outside Captain Maksim's office. The air was tense. No one spoke. The faint sound of a ceiling fan and the hum of a fax machine down the corridor were the only background noise.
The door creaked open.
Captain Maksim stood there, hands clasped behind his back, a grim expression carved into his face. His silence lingered for a moment too long.
Then he finally spoke.
"You succeeded in halting the transport planes over Sector Papa Alpha..."
A pause. Then a sharp breath through the nose.
"...But an unknown unit—using friendly IFFs—attacked an aviation engineering college near the AO."
The four pilots stiffened.
"Since you were the only Teyvat squadron operating in that airspace at the time... you are required to report to the Fontaine Office of Central Command. In Charybdis. Tomorrow. 0800 sharp."
He locked eyes with each of them.
"But... I know you didn't do it."
Maksim's tone softened slightly—just slightly—at the end. Then it was gone.
"Dismissed."
The pilots gave crisp nods, then turned and exited into the hallway.
Their boots echoed against the tile floor as they walked together in a line—silent at first.
Emilie scratched the back of her head, exhaling through her nose.
"The 5050th... weren't those the same guys who relieved us when we rescued the President?"
Mona nodded, her arms crossed.
"Yeah. That was them. Or at least that's what our data links said."
Ayaka's voice came quietly from behind them.
"Do they even exist at all?"
Teppei scoffed.
"Of course they do. They were responding to our IFF interrogations as friendlies! That can't be spoofed easily."
Emilie tapped her chin, her brow furrowed.
"Unless it was deliberate. Enemies flying captured or repainted Teyvat aircraft... mimicking friendly IFF signatures."
Mona rubbed her temple, deep in thought.
"Hmm... That would require tech on par with ours. But... it's not impossible. Sounds more than likely, I suppose."
Emilie exhaled sharply through her nose and looked down the hall, frustration plain on her face.
"Just great. Looks like someone's trying to frame us..."
They walked on, heading toward the dorm wing, their footsteps the only sound as suspicion, frustration, and a growing sense of unease settled among them like a storm cloud waiting to burst.