Prologue: Distant Thunder

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Yellow 13

It was another attempt on Stonehenge that caused the Yellow Squadron to scramble. 13 had gotten used to them by this point. At least during these he had talented opponents. Fellow aces who gave their best in a form of combat that they had perfected. Truth be told, Yellow 13 hated having to down them. If the war hadn't broken out, he and them could have flown the skies that they all loved together without worry. But thoughts like that weren't for the combat situation he found himself in. Turning his Su-37 into a tight spiral, he loosed two missiles that found their mark on an ISAF F-16 that belched smoke from its engine as gravity took its course with the plane. 13 trailed it for a little longer, just long enough to make sure his opponent safely ejected. Despite fighting against them, when possible 13 made sure the enemy pilots got out alive. However this plane continued its spiral. It fell right into a civilian residence. 13 couldn't believe what he saw. The battle wrapped up quickly with the rest of his squadron chasing off the other enemy and then joining him for the return flight. But 13's mind wandered back to that plane. He promised himself that as soon as possible he would atone for his collateral damage. The debrief was quick and they were then told to pack their bags. The Yellow Squadron was relocating to San Salvacion. Just another base was the first impression of what his time there would be like for 13. He would be proven very wrong.

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