The North PacificBoard

Nearly half a day had passed since First Representative Bell's announcement regarding the ULT-Pandoskan war. In that time, the rapid reaction forces of the SAF went from preparing three planes and filling them with helicopters and spec-ops operators all the way to landing them at Handal base, in North Baba. The operation itself was a show of skill when it came to scrambling times - but now, the hard part came. The units from the 1st Special Forces Group only had a few hours to plot a course of action before their mission would have to start. While the attached technicians and pilot crews began preparing the choppers for take-off, a few soldiers sat around a table in one of the cargo planes.

"What the hell do they mean by a ceasefire?" asked a younger man, with a lieutenant's insignia on his uniform.

"Quite literally, fighting's stopped in the ULT. Says so on the intelligence report." replied a middle-aged individual with tabs designating the rank of captain.

"Well, makes it easier for us, eh? We just have to get in and get out without worrying about being shot down." said an older-looking fellow, maybe around 50 or so, this time a senior sergeant.

"Yeah, but something's wrong here. It's too sudden. I don't like this." stated the lieutenant with a worried look on his face.

"Adrien, for Christ's sake, we're special forces operators. We got the most important mission of our lives so far, we can't tell the government we're pulling out because of some damn thing like this!" rebutted the captain.

A yell came from outside the plane. "WE'RE GOING IN TEN! PREP YOUR GEAR, MEN!"

"We gotta get going, lads." said the senior sarge. "Our boys at the embassy are waiting for us, and I dunno how long those scared dip-guard boys can hold out without breaking down." The lieutenant sighed at this, but in the end, he couldn't stop the mission from going ahead now. He grabbed his carbine from a nearby weapons crate, giving it a quick check before putting it on the back of his plate carrier.

The utility helos were all bunched up in one corner of the airbase - the transports themselves were taking up quite a bit of space, and spreading out the helicopters might've been abusing the generosity of their hosts. As such, the pilots had to lift off one at a time.

"All command personnel, get on-board the lead helo! The rest of the rescue force will follow your trail." exclaimed the lead helicopter technician, pointing at one of the six brightly-colored choppers. It proudly sported a paintjob reminiscient of the Solarian flag, with the coat of arms located on its tail. A small portion of the hull had been intentionally omitted during the painting, revealing the metallic black exterior which would've normally been left untouched. The omitted section read out "GUARDIAN ONE" - that was the callsign of the helicopter in question.

"Auxiliary pumps off, check, flight controls operational, check, radio and HUD functioning, check, altimeter, gyro and trim all set, check... oh, right, the parking brake- check. Guardian One ready for lift-off, raising altitude." The pilot calmly and confidently ensured the helo was functioning before it began its ascent, with the three soldiers from before being on it. Looking out of the window, one could see as the second, third, and fourth helicopters all took off one after another. The fifth and sixth followed soon after. Takeoff had gone without a hitch.

"ETA at Lakian airspace is around 2 minutes. Opening comms with them." stated the co-pilot as he grabbed the radio and switched it to an open frequency.

"Attention armed personnel of the United Lake Territories (Third 3rd Skyclan republic), this is flight Guardian One of the Alliance of Sovereign Solarian Nations currently on a path to the city of Mzekow. We are entering your airspace to retrieve personnel of the Solarian Armed Forces and the Solarian Foreign Office due to the recent conflict in your country. We ask that you do not oppose our rescue operation, as doing so will be considered an act of aggression. We do not expect guidance but any warnings regarding the weather, military situations or otherwise events that would block our flight path would be appreciated. Guardian One out."

With that transmission, the helicopter squadron moved forwards at a rapid pace, and unless something got in their way, within around half an hour they'd make it to their destination.