Story Notes:
First story I've written in a while. Classes have made me write report after report, so don't expect too much out of this one. I'm a little bit rusty, but things are starting to come back to me.
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: All characters are fictitious and in no way meant to infringe on copyright laws, international or otherwise. Any current military events portrayed herein are also fictitious and not do not bear intentional resemblance to current operations.
"99 Jahre Krieg/ Liessen keinen Platz für Sieger/ Kriegsminister gibt's nicht mehr/ Und auch keine Düsenflieger/ Heute zieh ich meine Runden/ Seh die Welt in Trümmern liegen/ Hab' nen Luftballon gefunden/ Denk' an Dich und lass' ihn fliegeln..."
Excerpt taken from a letter home written by an unnamed soldier:
"29.2.2048
Dear Mom and Dad,
We've been helping these Hoennians out for a good time now, and I think we're all starting to get pretty tired. I don't see why we've been recruited to help these guys; weren't they the ones just kicking our asses about a hundred years ago? Kind of ironic if you think about it. The great and powerful Hoenn needs our help to solve its problems. I guess it is true; the bigger you are, the harder you fall. Well, I should probably wrap this up. My platoon's leaving; we're headed into the capitol for some R&R before we take our positions on the southeastern shores. This place is hell right now; from what I heard the fabled Normandy shores were nothing compared to what they're facing. Here's to hoping that all goes well.
Love,
-Name withheld"
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0600 Hours
T-minus 168 hours and counting
Location: Slateport City, Hoenn
Luke Dreyfuss looked out of his bedroom window with a sigh. He'd acquired an apartment on the Slateport shoreline courtesy of the Hoenn Army. It was typical of a damaged government; blow up a few enemy tanks and bomb a couple unfriendly encampments and they'll fall all over themselves to kiss your feet. It surprised him as well, not even close to being a native to the country. They'd promised him a great view of the shore and the ocean. Great view, alright. Of what? The massive amounts of dead soldiers and charred ship parts? The craters from artillery and land mines? Luke secretly thought they stuck him here to try and get him back.
He went to his closet as he always did to remind him of why he quit. His green and black Army uniform hung from the railing above silently, the gold pilot's wings glistening on the breast. With distaste, he looked down at the left pantleg, which was burnt and torn away below the knee.
Luke's gaze went down from the torn pantleg to his own left leg, which was nothing but a metal skeleton. He got comments on how well it went with his black, blue and tan fur pattern, along with the spikes on his hands and chest. He didn't mind it at times, he only hated it when he remembered how the military had "kicked you in the balls and slapped you in the face" as his copilot used to say.
Used to say. That phrase in reference with Luke's copilot brought up another torrent of boiling rage within him. His copilot was a good guy who wouldn't hurt anyone not aiming a weapon at his face. He paid the same price that Luke did, although worse. And the military simply denied Luke's accusations and pleaded innocent. The fact that the military sent them in and casually ignored their top pilot when their own great idea went down in flames made him sick to his stomach.
He closed his eyes, and could still hear the rattle of gunfire and the thunder of artillery. And that really wasn't all that he could hear. In his mind, he was still on the battlefield. And that thought both made him angry and terrified.
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0800 Hours
T-minus 166 hours and counting
Location: Hoenn Army Headquarters
Hoenn Army General Bernard Woodruff sat in the rather overstuffed chair of his gigantic office, fiddling with the pen on his desk. He knew that the Hoenn Army was in a bad situation. The Johto forces were surrounding the island, and there was simply nothing they could do about it. The naval forces that remained were about the size of a Boy-Scout troop with about the same great amount of leadership. If they couldn't get a decent air power launched soon, they were doomed to be crushed.
He pondered their rather unfortunate situation for a moment longer before his office door flew open hard enough to make the glass in the door crack. One of the technicians sprinted inside, winded and looking quite excited. "General! The Johto Army is giving us an ultimatum!"
General Woodruff snatched the paper out of the technician's hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Reading it over, the Woodruff's heart started to sink.
"13.04.2048
To General Bernard Woodruff, General of the Hoenn Armed Forces.
I have decided to make a deal with you. I have given my naval forces authority to allow one of your ships to leave the island. Anything more than one ship will be sunk. I realize that your situation could be likened to being 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' as they say, and this offer just might be a solution to this. I will allow you to leave the island before it is completely and utterly annihilated by the stockade of nuclear weaponry that I have built. The first missile of seven will be launched at approximately 0600 hours on the 20th of April, 2048. You will have until then to vacate your island.
This deal is effective immediately, and I will repeat. Any more than one ship will be sunk.
Yours,
General Jerome L. Burnell, General of the Johto Republican Military"
General Woodruff contemplated the offer. If Burnell was lying, it's essentially a game of "Heads, I win, tails, you lose". However, they couldn't take the chance. The line that hit Woodruff where it hurt was the line involving the nuclear weaponry. No doubt impenetrable and reinforced, ground troops wouldn't stand a chance against the Johto encampment. He thought about declining when he thought of something. Ground troops would fail, but air power...?
"What are we going to do, General?" the technician asked after catching his breath.
Woodruff grinned. "Get Lieutenant Dreyfuss on the phone. I have a proposition for him."
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0830 Hours
T-minus 165 hours, 30 minutes and counting
Location: Slateport City, Hoenn
"I've told you once, I'm not doing it." Luke repeated over the phone.
"Lieutenant, this job could--"
"Don't call me that. I was a Lieutenant when I was in the military. I'm a civilian now. Deal with it," he said, almost slamming the phone down.
"If you don't take this assignment, Hoenn will be obliterated. Along with everyone on it. You have to do it," General Woodruff practically begged.
"Then get one of your pilots to do it," Luke replied. "You've always boasted about our air power."
"That was back when you were in it! Our pilots can't even put their helmets on straight!"
"Should've thought about that before sending me on that assignment that you swore would make me a hero. You can get yourself out of this mess, General." With that, he hung up.
Luke rubbed his temples; he could feel a headache coming on. He'd been getting them quite often lately, although he didn't know why. Before they had been very minute; this one sent waves of pain speeding through his head. He gritted his teeth against it and sat down in the chair by the phone, when suddenly he envisioned something all too vividly.
"You needed to see me, General?" Luke asked, stepping into the office.
"I did, Lieutenant. Please have a seat," General Woodruff replied, motioning to one of the plastic chairs in front of him. "You've been called here for a very important assignment. As I'm sure you know, we have stormed the continent of Johto. There is a rather pesky camp of soldiers that we can't get rid of. So your job will be to fly in during the cover of night and bombing that camp."
Luke looked at him warily. "Why do you need me to do this?"
General Woodruff shrugged. "You're our best pilot. We can't afford to launch a failed attempt."
He sighed. "In other words, none of the other pilots want to do it."
"You don't understand, Lieutenant. This assignment will make you a hero to Hoenn. You're not going to run away, are you?"
No, he had decided. No I will not.
He took another glance at his military uniform hanging in the closet. He took it off the hanger and laid it out on his bed, staring at it for about ten minutes before finally and absentmindedly trying it on. It still fit him perfectly.
(you didn't run away then why do it now)
Knowing he'd hate himself later, Luke picked up the phone.
******
Date: 13 April 2048
1300 Hours
T-minus 161 Hours and counting
Location: Slateport City Marina, Hoenn
Luke stood on the deck of the Hoenn frigate Jirachi, looking out over the water. He could see the small barricade of Johto battleships on the horizon. He sighed, remembering just how much he hated boats. Walking around to the stern of the great ship, he took a moment to look over his new craft.
The Apache Longbow was a foreign type of attack helicopter whose origin was never quite determined, but it proved efficient in many different combat situations, both outright air strikes and covert missions.
This particular chopper, however, was monumentally different from the Longbow that he had flown before. Technicians called it the "Longbow Mk II", an upgraded version, including an increase in firepower and ammunition. The tail rotor was suspended inside the tail of the craft itself, to reduce the chance of damage from ground fire. Each wing held a rack of 10 Hellfire missiles and a drum containing 30 Sidewinder rockets each.
Furthermore, it had been painted to exactly match a Johto attack chopper. Luke seriously doubted that this pitiful disguise would fool the Johto General, but anything was worth a shot. Not like he'd be on Hoenn when those missiles hit.
"Got a hell of a hero's mindset," a sarcastic voice called out from behind him.
He spun around, fearing that he had said his thoughts out loud. He came face to face with a female Ninetales, dressed in military fatigues and wearing silver pilots' wings. Obviously his copilot.
"What do you mean?" he asked, not quite sure what to say.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't have much confidence in our General's tactic, do you?"
He shrugged. "To be honest, not really. Who would fall for this?" He pointed at the chopper. "A helicopter that the Johto military doesn't even use painted like one of their own fleet?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Anything's worth a try, Sir," she practically spat, and stalked off.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "A copilot who hates me, and we're both on a mission that could mean the lives of thousands of people."
He looked back at Hoenn's shoreline. "...they're fucked."Chapter End Notes:Not quite sure how great it is, since I've been writing nothing but reports for a while so please let me know if my skills still need some waking up. Always open forhate comments I mean, constructive criticism
"99 Jahre Krieg/ Liessen keinen Platz für Sieger/ Kriegsminister gibt's nicht mehr/ Und auch keine Düsenflieger/ Heute zieh ich meine Runden/ Seh die Welt in Trümmern liegen/ Hab' nen Luftballon gefunden/ Denk' an Dich und lass' ihn fliegeln..."
Excerpt taken from a letter home written by an unnamed soldier:
"29.2.2048
Dear Mom and Dad,
We've been helping these Hoennians out for a good time now, and I think we're all starting to get pretty tired. I don't see why we've been recruited to help these guys; weren't they the ones just kicking our asses about a hundred years ago? Kind of ironic if you think about it. The great and powerful Hoenn needs our help to solve its problems. I guess it is true; the bigger you are, the harder you fall. Well, I should probably wrap this up. My platoon's leaving; we're headed into the capitol for some R&R before we take our positions on the southeastern shores. This place is hell right now; from what I heard the fabled Normandy shores were nothing compared to what they're facing. Here's to hoping that all goes well.
Love,
-Name withheld"
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0600 Hours
T-minus 168 hours and counting
Location: Slateport City, Hoenn
Luke Dreyfuss looked out of his bedroom window with a sigh. He'd acquired an apartment on the Slateport shoreline courtesy of the Hoenn Army. It was typical of a damaged government; blow up a few enemy tanks and bomb a couple unfriendly encampments and they'll fall all over themselves to kiss your feet. It surprised him as well, not even close to being a native to the country. They'd promised him a great view of the shore and the ocean. Great view, alright. Of what? The massive amounts of dead soldiers and charred ship parts? The craters from artillery and land mines? Luke secretly thought they stuck him here to try and get him back.
He went to his closet as he always did to remind him of why he quit. His green and black Army uniform hung from the railing above silently, the gold pilot's wings glistening on the breast. With distaste, he looked down at the left pantleg, which was burnt and torn away below the knee.
Luke's gaze went down from the torn pantleg to his own left leg, which was nothing but a metal skeleton. He got comments on how well it went with his black, blue and tan fur pattern, along with the spikes on his hands and chest. He didn't mind it at times, he only hated it when he remembered how the military had "kicked you in the balls and slapped you in the face" as his copilot used to say.
Used to say. That phrase in reference with Luke's copilot brought up another torrent of boiling rage within him. His copilot was a good guy who wouldn't hurt anyone not aiming a weapon at his face. He paid the same price that Luke did, although worse. And the military simply denied Luke's accusations and pleaded innocent. The fact that the military sent them in and casually ignored their top pilot when their own great idea went down in flames made him sick to his stomach.
He closed his eyes, and could still hear the rattle of gunfire and the thunder of artillery. And that really wasn't all that he could hear. In his mind, he was still on the battlefield. And that thought both made him angry and terrified.
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0800 Hours
T-minus 166 hours and counting
Location: Hoenn Army Headquarters
Hoenn Army General Bernard Woodruff sat in the rather overstuffed chair of his gigantic office, fiddling with the pen on his desk. He knew that the Hoenn Army was in a bad situation. The Johto forces were surrounding the island, and there was simply nothing they could do about it. The naval forces that remained were about the size of a Boy-Scout troop with about the same great amount of leadership. If they couldn't get a decent air power launched soon, they were doomed to be crushed.
He pondered their rather unfortunate situation for a moment longer before his office door flew open hard enough to make the glass in the door crack. One of the technicians sprinted inside, winded and looking quite excited. "General! The Johto Army is giving us an ultimatum!"
General Woodruff snatched the paper out of the technician's hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Reading it over, the Woodruff's heart started to sink.
"13.04.2048
To General Bernard Woodruff, General of the Hoenn Armed Forces.
I have decided to make a deal with you. I have given my naval forces authority to allow one of your ships to leave the island. Anything more than one ship will be sunk. I realize that your situation could be likened to being 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' as they say, and this offer just might be a solution to this. I will allow you to leave the island before it is completely and utterly annihilated by the stockade of nuclear weaponry that I have built. The first missile of seven will be launched at approximately 0600 hours on the 20th of April, 2048. You will have until then to vacate your island.
This deal is effective immediately, and I will repeat. Any more than one ship will be sunk.
Yours,
General Jerome L. Burnell, General of the Johto Republican Military"
General Woodruff contemplated the offer. If Burnell was lying, it's essentially a game of "Heads, I win, tails, you lose". However, they couldn't take the chance. The line that hit Woodruff where it hurt was the line involving the nuclear weaponry. No doubt impenetrable and reinforced, ground troops wouldn't stand a chance against the Johto encampment. He thought about declining when he thought of something. Ground troops would fail, but air power...?
"What are we going to do, General?" the technician asked after catching his breath.
Woodruff grinned. "Get Lieutenant Dreyfuss on the phone. I have a proposition for him."
*****
Date: 13 April 2048
0830 Hours
T-minus 165 hours, 30 minutes and counting
Location: Slateport City, Hoenn
"I've told you once, I'm not doing it." Luke repeated over the phone.
"Lieutenant, this job could--"
"Don't call me that. I was a Lieutenant when I was in the military. I'm a civilian now. Deal with it," he said, almost slamming the phone down.
"If you don't take this assignment, Hoenn will be obliterated. Along with everyone on it. You have to do it," General Woodruff practically begged.
"Then get one of your pilots to do it," Luke replied. "You've always boasted about our air power."
"That was back when you were in it! Our pilots can't even put their helmets on straight!"
"Should've thought about that before sending me on that assignment that you swore would make me a hero. You can get yourself out of this mess, General." With that, he hung up.
Luke rubbed his temples; he could feel a headache coming on. He'd been getting them quite often lately, although he didn't know why. Before they had been very minute; this one sent waves of pain speeding through his head. He gritted his teeth against it and sat down in the chair by the phone, when suddenly he envisioned something all too vividly.
"You needed to see me, General?" Luke asked, stepping into the office.
"I did, Lieutenant. Please have a seat," General Woodruff replied, motioning to one of the plastic chairs in front of him. "You've been called here for a very important assignment. As I'm sure you know, we have stormed the continent of Johto. There is a rather pesky camp of soldiers that we can't get rid of. So your job will be to fly in during the cover of night and bombing that camp."
Luke looked at him warily. "Why do you need me to do this?"
General Woodruff shrugged. "You're our best pilot. We can't afford to launch a failed attempt."
He sighed. "In other words, none of the other pilots want to do it."
"You don't understand, Lieutenant. This assignment will make you a hero to Hoenn. You're not going to run away, are you?"
No, he had decided. No I will not.
He took another glance at his military uniform hanging in the closet. He took it off the hanger and laid it out on his bed, staring at it for about ten minutes before finally and absentmindedly trying it on. It still fit him perfectly.
(you didn't run away then why do it now)
Knowing he'd hate himself later, Luke picked up the phone.
******
Date: 13 April 2048
1300 Hours
T-minus 161 Hours and counting
Location: Slateport City Marina, Hoenn
Luke stood on the deck of the Hoenn frigate Jirachi, looking out over the water. He could see the small barricade of Johto battleships on the horizon. He sighed, remembering just how much he hated boats. Walking around to the stern of the great ship, he took a moment to look over his new craft.
The Apache Longbow was a foreign type of attack helicopter whose origin was never quite determined, but it proved efficient in many different combat situations, both outright air strikes and covert missions.
This particular chopper, however, was monumentally different from the Longbow that he had flown before. Technicians called it the "Longbow Mk II", an upgraded version, including an increase in firepower and ammunition. The tail rotor was suspended inside the tail of the craft itself, to reduce the chance of damage from ground fire. Each wing held a rack of 10 Hellfire missiles and a drum containing 30 Sidewinder rockets each.
Furthermore, it had been painted to exactly match a Johto attack chopper. Luke seriously doubted that this pitiful disguise would fool the Johto General, but anything was worth a shot. Not like he'd be on Hoenn when those missiles hit.
"Got a hell of a hero's mindset," a sarcastic voice called out from behind him.
He spun around, fearing that he had said his thoughts out loud. He came face to face with a female Ninetales, dressed in military fatigues and wearing silver pilots' wings. Obviously his copilot.
"What do you mean?" he asked, not quite sure what to say.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't have much confidence in our General's tactic, do you?"
He shrugged. "To be honest, not really. Who would fall for this?" He pointed at the chopper. "A helicopter that the Johto military doesn't even use painted like one of their own fleet?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Anything's worth a try, Sir," she practically spat, and stalked off.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "A copilot who hates me, and we're both on a mission that could mean the lives of thousands of people."
He looked back at Hoenn's shoreline. "...they're fucked."Chapter End Notes:Not quite sure how great it is, since I've been writing nothing but reports for a while so please let me know if my skills still need some waking up. Always open for