Captain Grant Hatch

"Hatch." A voice called. Hatch remained undisturbed as he looked at the magazine that was held in his hands. He was reading Time Magazine.

"Hatch!" The voice called again, this time rousing Hatch from his reading. He looked up to see that everyone was looking at him, including the officer in charge of briefing them on the mission. He slumped down in his seat in a vain attempt to hide from the judging eyes. But worked rather poorly due to his tall stature. Another airman walked in and sat down next to Hatch.

"Right, now that you all are here... and paying attention, we can get this briefing underway." The officer said after clearing his throat. Captain Grant Hatch sat up and looked at the board. He was a pilot of a F-35B in the Red Devils. A Marine Corps outfit specialized in air interdiction. airstrikes, and other aerial recon. Call-sign "Ghost" for his quiet demeanor. The leader of his Flight was Major Jack Armitage, who was sitting in the front row.

"Gentlemen, I gather you here today because you have been called into action. Today is the day. The target is the Taliban-controlled city of Kandahar." The officer said, grabbing a laser pointer and pointing the red dot at the map on the wall. "The Taliban garrison is at their weakest and the brass believes its time. Australian, American, British, and local militia forces gather in a secluded camp in the mountain side in preparation for the attack. Your job is to provide air support for the ground forces and report enemy movements in the city. The 11th Marines will be deployed alongside you to act as your eyes on the ground." He said, he then pointed the laser at the slideshow that just started up.

"Kandahar has been in Taliban control for a while now, with small skirmishes taking place between US Forces and Taliban Insurgents. Recent reports show that the terrorists are packing plenty of RPGs, so keep away from the city until an airstrike is needed." He said. The rest of the briefing detailed the ground assault and key targets in the city that the Red Devils were to take care when the opportunity presented itself. Hatch remained quiet and payed attention as best he could. But his mind wandered when the officer stated that the Red Devils were not to engage ground targets unless an airstrike was requisitioned or a target building presented itself. Target buildings were things such as town halls, bunkers, armories, and general stockpiles. It was never a good idea to destroy the city your trying, as it lessened the rewards. But, destruction caused fear in the enemy. Fear is what could win a battle. A demoralized enemy would rather flee then fight a losing battle.

"Your to depart in twenty minutes, get your stuff in order and get in your birds and be ready to assist the attack force. Alright Marines, lets go out there and win this one for the boys back home! Oorah?" The briefing officer had said.

"Oorah!" The room echoed.

Hatch had gotten up, but then major Armitage stopped him.

"Hatch, come with me. We have something to discuss." He said before turning towards the exit... 'Oh no.' Hatch thought.

He followed his flight leader as ordered. Hatch was slightly nervous as Armitage had a history of one-on-one talks with the pilots under his command and all, if not most, of them were not pleasant. A thought picking at the back of Hatch's mind told him that he was gonna be alright, nothing bad.... But it was just a thought. He passed some of his fellow airmen.

After a few minutes of walking and turning corners in the main building, they finally arrived at Armitage's office. Being an officer, especially a commissioned officer, came with many perks, but its not all fun'n'games. There is a lot of paperwork involved and you would have to make many tough and unpopular decisions. Hatch decided he was fine being an underling. Despite being a commissioned officer. Hatch wasn't assaulted with all the paperwork and intrigue that came with the title of CO. This was because of his status as wing-man for Armitage. The aforementioned officer took a seat behind his desk after shutting the door.

"Sit." He ordered and Hatch complied. He wanted to say something but held his tongue as nervousness consumed him.

"Now, captain. You should know my tour is almost over and I plan to retire once I return to the states. I brought you in here to discuss who is taking my rank and position in the flight when I leave...." He started. Hatch calmed at this because this mean't he had caused no infraction lately.

"I have talked to the rest of the flight and they elected you to take my spot." He finished. Hatch kept a straight face, but, deep down, he always wanted to be a flight leader since he joined. Excitement consumed his emotions but he hid it behind a solid poker face. Of course, this was his everyday face so Armitage was none the wiser.

"So what do you say, Hatch? I've seen you take command when needed and your flight skills are close to rivaling mine. If I didn't think you would be a great candidate then I wouldn't have brought you in here." He said, resting his uniformed elbows on the table. 'This was like a dream come true.' Hatch had thought. But then he thought of the cons that would come with a higher CO rank.

"How about you keep your rank and I just take the position as flight leader?" Hatch haggled. This caused Armitage to frown for a second, but he soon smiled once again. A respectful gesture in a somewhat unnoticeable way.

"Well, if that's what you want. I could force the promotion but I don't feel like doing paperwork anyways. So, I guess this means you accept?"

Hatch smiled. He was always a really quiet guy, and if people asked him a question then he would respond with a smile for yes or a frown for no so Armitage got his answer. He then chuckled.

"Well, would you look at that. The wing-man is now flight leader. Well." Armitage said, standing up and shaking Hatch's hand. "Come on. Lets go brief the pilots on your promotion, Marine."

<><><>

"All airmen check in." Hatch said into the radio as he strapped himself in and put on his flight helmet. The 11nth Marines had deployed and were on route to the the city, where the assault was already in progress. From what reports had suggested, the Australian forces are holding back to keep fleeing Insurgents boxed in, whilst American, British and the local militia are in the midst of an intense gunfight... sadly, it also sounded like they were on the losing side.

'I'm glad i'm not a grunt.' Hatch thought.

One by one, the Red Devils sounded off, including Major Armitage, who was now acting wing-man instead of flight leader. As Armitage had suggested, the Red Devils were really happy with Hatch. He had proven to be a great pilot in their service together. So, naturally, they would elect him without his knowledge. Hatch was really happy with this new job, but also kinda nervous. He wasn't a terrible leader, as Parris Island had proven, but knowing that peoples lives actually depended on his decisions... It was stressful.

"Red Devil 10, checking in." The final pilot had said. Hatch had smiled under his helmet.

"All jets, prepare for take-off. Getting a green light from command now." Hatch had said, switching the channel to the control tower.

"Command, this is Captain Hatch, flight leader for the Red Devils. Awaiting green light." Hatch had stated.

"Roger that, Hatch. You are cleared for take-off. Give 'em hell Marine." The controller said.

Hatch started the jet by using the throttle lever and Centre stick. He steered himself to be on the runway and the jets behind him followed. As soon as he was in the middle of the runway he slammed the throttle down and the jet shot down the runway. He pulled the stick towards him, causing the F-35B to turn ever so slightly up. The F-35B was a military jet that was capable of air reconnaissance, air conflicts (AKA air supremacy) and bombing missions... But it was mostly designed for the latter. The Red Devils took great pride in this craft as it was really versatile and it allowed them to see a lot of conflict instead of staying couped up back in the states like a backpacking Army guy and it kept them off the ground, where their bullet-sponge brothers took the hits. The Major was in the air not soon after Hatch was airborne

"Wing-man you got my tail? We have little time to get to the target zone." Hatch asked as he circled the base. Soon enough, Armitage was at his side.

"I got your tail. We are awaiting orders." He affirmed. One by one, pilots of the Red Devils go airborne, shooting down the runways and becoming airborne almost in an blink of an eye. Those already in the air begin to circle the base as they wait for their fellow Devils. Soon, however, the final Devil is in the air and regroups with the flight. Hatch begins his new job with his first flight order.

"All Devils, form a delta with me at the head. We have limited time to reach Kandahar and help our boys on the ground. We are buddying with the 11th Marines on this mission so have you channels on joint communications." Hatch had stated. "We are Oscar-Mike."

"Roger that, Satan. Good luck out there and come home safe." The traffic controller had radioed.

<><><>

The jets soared through the skies for a good bit, on their way to Kandahar air space. The radio was abuzz with chatter from the pilots and the pitched battle at Kandahar. Hatch was busy talking to the platoon commander of the 11th Marine platoon that they were assisting.

"Negative, 1st Lieutenant Baker. We do not have eyes on your convoy. Relay coordinates." Hatch had said.

"Affirmative. Stand by." Baker had stated on the other end.

"Man, once you get passed all the sand and rocky terrain it really is beautiful out here." One Devil said over the radio, breaking the quietness that had arrived when Baker departed.

"You got that right." Armitage replied. For the next few minutes, the only noise was that of the jets breaking the sound barriers.

"Our coordinates are as follows. 32 04'51.9North 6559'32.2East. How copy?" The radio stated, signalling the return of Baker. Hatch smiled slightly. He knew that the Marines were on the Kandahar Highway. Not too far from the airspace the Devils are occupying.

"Check that. Should we rendezvous with you and provide air recon?" Hatch asked.

"Negative. Proceed t-" Baker had started before he stopped abruptly. "What the hell? Who honked?" He asked, forgetting the radio was on.

"Crouse's vehicle did, sir." Replied in the background after a brief pause.

"Dammit! When we stop, get the Marines in that car assembled.... Oh. The radio is on... I say again, Negative. Proceed to the-" It said once again before it was cut off. Hatch's demeanor went from indifferent to concern. He asked for a repeat into the radio but none came to answer him. He asked once again for a repeat. No answer.

"What's going on, Hatch?" One Devil asked.

"Radio must be malfunctioning. Armitage, try getting them on horn." Hatch replied.

"Roger."

Armitage tried his luck, asking for a confirmation on if they can hear the Devils. He waited, but no answer. Armitage tried once more, but nothing. Hatch has soon deduced it was not a malfunction and that something had happened. So, as an act of concern, he switched the channel to command to ask on the status of the 11th Marines. But a voice on there stopped him.

"Base camp! Base camp! This is Sergeant Crouse, 11th Marines! We have been ambushed by unseen insurgents and have wounded! Multiple dead! We are falling back towards our destination and could use some assistance out here!" He heard. This Marines sounded very unfamiliar and it instantly gave him the realization that the platoon commander was one of the dead.

"All Devils, circle the AO. We are staying put until I can figure out what the hell is going on. Don't crash into each other." Hatch ordered. A chorus of "Yes, captain." came over the radio before jets began peeling off and circling the area.

"Uhhh, roger that base camp. We will turn back when we can to gather the dead. But the wounded and my men's lives takes priority."

"Affirmative, Sergeant. But negative on the retreat. Find a good spot and dig in. We have some air units in the vicinity and we'll send 'em your way for an airstrike." Hatch knew they were talking about his group. "We'll send corpsmen your way once the coast is clear."

"Uhhh. Roger that..."

"Please confirm your current location, Sergeant."

"We are going south on the K-" He had started before he too was cut off. Hatch took his eyes off the horizon and looked at the radio. 'What the hell is going on?' He thought. First, Baker was cut off and pronounced dead. Now Crouse was cut off too? Did he die as well? The radio chirped with voices of Hatch's airmen. They were all wondering the same thing. A couple minutes pass as base camp tried getting ahold of the sergeant.

"Whats going on down there, Sergeant? You alright?" Asked the radioman.

"Aggggghhhh! IEDS everywhere! Send those air units now!" A voice screamed over the radio. This new voice was just as unfamiliar as the last. "I can't feel my legs!" He screamed once more.

"Read. Who is this?" The radio guy asked.

"This is... Sergeant Ray! Crouse is dead! Everyone in his tin can is dead but me! They hit an IED! Oh god! I can't feel my legs!" "Ray" had said. 'Damn, sounded like they were taking a pounding, judging from the yelling and gunfire pitching in from the background.'

"Acknowledged. Calm down Marine. Air units are in the vicinity and are on the way. Have a green smoke grenade deployed so the pilots know where to hit. Please announce your new coordinates."

"I have no idea where the hell we are! The platoon commander had the map and its all burnt to shit by now! Fuck, i'm dying here! Does any of you have any medical training?!" He asked to someone in the background.

"Please repeat. What is your twenty?"

"I said I DON'T KNOW! Fuck! We'll pop a green smoke but your pilots are gonna have to find us or we are fucked!" He said."Hey, man. Are-are my legs good? I don't wanna look down, are they good?" He asked to someone who is physically with him.

"Uhhhh... yeah...yeah lets go with that." A voice in the background had said. That obviously wasn't a good sign.

"Alright, Red Devils are on their way. Have the smoke ready or they won't know where to find you guys."

"10-4... Get them here! Fast!" Ray had finished. And with that, the radio clicked off on his end. The pilots began talking to each other over the radio. Some expressing their concern, some expressing glee in dropping a payload. Hatch felt neither concern or glee. Nor any emotion really. In his mind, emotions can impede the job of flying a jet. And if you fuck up when flying then it can mean your death. The radio operator on the other end started giving orders to the Red Devils.

"Hope you caught all that, Lucifer. Your going to assist your friends. Head towards the Kandahar Highway and begin strafing it until you find a green smoke. You're only doing one pass so make sure you make the bombs count guys. Good luck out there." He said. Hatch then reformed his delta and directed the flight to the highway, passing over mountains and giants rocks as he did. He saw green smoke in the distance and instantly realized that's where the engagement was occurring. He switched his channel over to joint.

"We see your smoke, Marines. We estimate five minutes to target zone. Hold out, guys." Hatch said. He got no reply. While that neccesarily wasn't a good thing, it also didn't mean anything. They were probably too busy keeping themselves out of the open to do it. Seconds seemed like an eternity in those flying cans as they approached the target area. Minutes passed along and no one said a word to each other. None of them felt it appropriate. Their brothers were dying on the ground while they were safe in the sky. What could they say? Finally, after what seemed like forever, they got close to see the jeeps. one was a black as coal with a few flames around it. And another was a bit further down the road, this one was still on fire. There was a corpse hanging out of one of the doors.

"We see your smoke. Enjoy the show." Hatch said. As they prepared to bomb the fuck out of the Taliban ground forces, Hatch started to hear a steady sound. It sounded like the lock-on warning.

"Holy shit!" He yelled in response to a ball of light coming straight at him. He pulled back on the stick to go up and avoid making contact with the missile. "Holy fuck! Evade! Evade!" Hatch yelled once more, causing the pilots to break off after more missiles were propelled at them.

"You see that shit? How the hell did they get stingers?!" One pilot had questioned into the radio.

"The real question is: How many do they have and how much ammo did they procure?" Armitage replied. Hatch took control and immediately gave the order to regroup.

"Echelon! Lets hit these bastards as hard as we can!" Hatch ordered, taking his place in the front of the Echelon formation. He circled around the target area, waiting for the rest of the pilots to catch up with him. Once they finally accomplish that, they begin to do another pass. Only for Hatch receive his lock-on warnings again.

"Hatch! I'm getting locked on. We need to finish the pass now!" Armitage yelled.

"Command, come in! We request permission to drop hell on the enemy!" Hatch radioed.

"Permission granted, Lucifer."

"Let them know hell, boys! Show it to them!" He yelled, clicking the release button and dropping a deadly bomb onto the enemy. One by one, he could hear the pilots behind them yelling oorah. That signaled, to him at least, that they had dropped one of their bombs. One by one, the bombs hit the ground, causing devastation and explosions loud enough to pierce ear drums. The lock-on remained however, right before a click was made.

"Evade! Evade!" Hatch yelled, pulling to the side. The pilots behind scattered as well, missiles trailing behind them. Hatch could hear the pilots on the radio. Some were pissed off. Some were annoyed. And some were downright stupefied.

"Honestly! How the hell did those bastards acquire a stinger?!" One such angry comment was.

Hatch looked back to see that the missile was still on him. And it was gaining speed at an alarming rate. One of his airmen noticed this.

"Hatch! Evade! Evade!" He yelled. Hatch had already tried evading it. If he tried anymore then he would be in danger of stalling or crashing. He had to find a good medium level to attempt a sharp turn. Time he didn't have. If he tried waiting then the rapidly approaching missile would impact and knock him out of the sky.

"I can't shake the damn thing!"Armitage seemed to have known this already and only offered this advice.

"Eject!"

Hatch slammed his fist on the ejection button.... But he did not eject. He slammed his fist once more and the button refused to eject him from the jet. 'Holy shit!! Holy shit! Holyshitholyshitholyshitnonononono don't fucking malfunction now!' He thought as he continued to beat the button with his fist. It refused to work. Instead, all he was greeted with was panic.

"Hatch! What the fuck are you doing?! Eject! That missile is gonna hit! Look out!"

"I'm trying! I'm try-" He managed to stammer out before a wave of shudders and heat washed over him. He could feel the shock-wave of the explosion that hit his tail, and he smell the smoke coming from it. His bird tilted downwards.

"Bird down! Bird down!"

"I got a lock-on warning! They are still active down there!"

"Evade!"

Hatch calmed himself with deep breathing and grasped the centre stick as calm and slowly as he could and pulled towards him ever so slightly. He was going to attempt a crash landing instead of just a crash... The ground was growing closer an alarming rate. Any second he would hit and, with the speed he was going at, he would most likely not survive. 'Fuck! Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckittyfuckittyfuckfuckfuckittyfuck!' He thought in panic. Every second seemed like an hour. Every second that felt like an hour felt like a year. Every second that felt like an hour and that felt like a year felt like a decade. Time went by so slow. He watched as the ground grew closer.

And the last thing he felt was a force beyond his comprehension. But, surprisingly...

There was no pain.

Author's Note

Gaiden - (外伝?, pronounced [ɡaideɴ]) is a Japanese-language word meaning "side story" or "tale".

Welcome to the first Gaiden of the story. These Gaidens will be used to tell side stories--parts of the story not from Crouse's view that either are part of the story, or just an interesting side story.
Gaidens can be shorter than your average chapter. Not like a hundred words, they usually will always be under 3k words. But there are always exceptions.

I can't take credit for this chapter or the character. Full credit goes to the OC Owner Thunder-Bolt. An aspiring US Marine. Give him some love and respect people.

A public note for Thunder-Bolt: Stop changing your fucking name! I had to edit this authors note three times in one week, but all together, five times a whole month!

I don't know much about aircraft and shit so, please, don't correct me if i'm wrong about anything I say about them, alright?