Offutt Air Force Base, Nebraska - October 24th, 2054 - Cinder
I had fallen into a routine over the last two weeks. I awoke an hour early to eat, bathe, and ensure both my fatigues and my room would pass muster. Sergeant Mukai would then inspect me with the kind of diligence that only rewarded a passing grade if all was perfect. I outright failed the inspections the whole first week. But by the second Mukai was finding fewer things to call me out on.
“Congrats, Cupcake,” announced Mukai as he finished looking me over. “I think for once you get a passing grade. But don’t get cocky or forget your diligence. That uniform is made of the sweat, tears, and blood of all service members that have fought and died to preserve our freedom. You disrespect the uniform, you disrespect them. Continue to show that you are worthy of wearing it.”
“Yes, Sir!” I shouted. Somehow I’d gone from hating and half-heartedly replying to Mukai to somewhat enjoying it. Yelling like that got the blood pumping, which was vital for the trip to hell that always followed morning inspection.
I wouldn’t be winning any marathons or setting any fitness records, that much was certain. But I was improving thanks to Mukai’s dieting advice and the bastardized, accelerated version of the Couch to 5k program he was working me through. After the morning’s exercises were over, Mukai led me through several drills to test my ability to follow precise, rapid commands. He’d once told me the effect of the drills was diminished since it was just me alone performing them yet we carried on all the same.
“About face! And take a knee,” Mukai ordered. I did as instructed, kneeling facing south as he rounded in front of me. “Today is very special. Care to guess why?”
“Is it because your anniversary is today, Sir?” I shouted while doing my best to hide my internal snickering. Mukai said I shouldn’t use Vedr to get out of training. He never said I shouldn’t use Vedr to learn about him to get ammo of my own.
Mukai froze, blinking slowly at me. “Well shit, Cupcake. Now that you mention it, it is my anniversary. Funny how a little detail like that can go unnoticed. You might have just saved me from going home to a very unhappy wife. There’s just the issue of you pointing it out. How do you propose we deal with this?”
“I am ready to make out with the concrete, Sir! However, I believe my lessons two days ago indicated that normally you’re given a wingman during basic. And you always look out for your wingman.”
“Hah! That’s rich,” he huffed back. “But also correct. Your immediate wingman may be your Air-Core, but in the air you will be responsible for taking care of those in your element. I’m glad at least some of what we’re teaching you is getting through. However…”
Mukai trailed off. I readied myself to dive forward and begin punishment push ups, but the order never came. Instead, he said, “Nah. I’ll have you eat dirt after today’s lessons. Normally, we’d be teaching you basic shit that most young adults coming to BMT don’t already know. But you’ve held a job before. You’ve managed finances, interpersonal relationships, and so on and so forth. That means we can skip ahead a bit in the lesson plan. Today begins your time in the simulator pod, as well as instructions on proper tactics across the whole spectrum of environments.”
I nearly lept to my feet in glee. I had been looking forward to the actual flight part of flight school ever since arriving at Offutt. Sure, I’d be starting in a simulator, but it was an important step towards actually getting in the air with Vedr. Somehow I kept my kneeling position while replying, “I look forward to it, Sir!”
The building containing the simulator pods was more a hangar than a warehouse. The large emblem of the 338th Combat Training Squadron was emblazoned on the wall above rows of fully-articulating motion simulators. Most of the simulator cockpits were designed after single-seaters and tandems. Only two were Air-Core specific. All but the Air-Core pods in the back were currently in use. Technicians, instructors, and airmen conversed at tables set to the right side of the space while waiting for their turn in the sims. They all looked my way as Mukai led me towards the open pods, making no attempt to hide the fact they had switched topics to talk about me.
“That her?”
“Yeah, that’s the girl.”
“She gets to fly that Air-Core in hangar three? Man, Bradley must be pissed he got passed up.”
“The way I hear it is she stole the Air-Core and forced it to bond to her so it couldn’t be taken away.”
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Can she even fly? I bet she doesn’t even have hours in the cockpit of a video game.”
“Not going to lie, she’s kinda hot in that ‘if you get too close you’ll get burned’ way. Think I have a chance with her?”
“Fuck no, Thompson. You don’t even have a chance of making small talk with a normal girl, much less a barracks bunny.”
“Hey man, words hurt.”
I did my best to ignore their continuing commentary as Mukai got me situated in one of the Air-Core Sim Pods. A vast majority of Air-Core cockpits were designed for the pilot to lay in the prone position and this pod was no different. Two joysticks sat before a curved screen up near where my head was, and a pedal was behind each of my feet. The only light and color came from that same screen as Mukai sealed me inside.
It was a good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic because it felt like I’d have more wiggle room in a literal coffin as the walls pushed in at me. A male voice filled the cockpit shortly thereafter. “Hello, Ms. Laros. My name is Lieutenant Bradley. I’ll be your instructor for the next few weeks or until I feel you’re ready for actual flight.”
“Nice to meet you, Sir,” I said. Then, remembering the conversation I just overheard, I added, “I hope you aren’t upset that I got an Air-Core before you did.”
“Meh. At this point I’m accepting my fate as a teacher over an actual combat pilot. Let’s get a baseline going. Have you ever played around in a flight sim game before? Used a joystick?”
“Other than your standard controller in a few FPS, no,” I answered. “I’m starting at square one.”
Bradley let out a breath somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “Then the good news is that most of the work is done by the Air-Core. You just tell her where to go and what to shoot at. The bad news is that you will be learning proper piloting even when not in an Air-Core. We’ll start with the absolute basics of roll, pitch, and yaw…”
The next several hours were spent teaching me how to perform basic maneuvers in the air. And by basic I mean the most complicated thing I did was an aileron roll towards the end of my sim time. For his part, Bradley remained calm and neutral with only a couple of slip-ups (mostly silent grumbling) when I didn’t perfectly do as he was asking. By the time I exited the pod a crowd had gathered, though not just to see me. Vedr had come to visit.
[ How is her progress, Lieutenant Bradley, ] Veder asked of a jock-type with a blonde crew cut and full mustache.
“Ask her yourself,” Bradley said, pointing over to where I was clambering out of the pod and back to the ground. “I’ve got reports I need to file.”
He walked off briskly as Vedr beckoned me over. [ He’ll come around in time, I’m sure. Same question - how’s the progress? ]
“Well I won’t be in any acrobatic competitions soon, but I can at least move about the sky like an amateur,” I replied.
[ I will be present for future training sessions to help accelerate your learning process, ] Vedr declared to all present. [ I would have arrived sooner for this one but someone neglected to tell me about it until the last minute. ]
She need not have looked at Mukai to indicate whom exactly but she did anyway. He replied without missing a beat, “Hey, I told you I needed the extra time to figure out how to get my wife a proper anniversary gift before I clocked out for the day.”
[ And were you successful? ]
“Fuck no. I thought year nine was bronze but it’s actually pottery. I got some lapis lazuli jewelry on rush order but who knows if it’ll get here in time,” Mukai sighed.
[ Then let us hope your wife isn’t a traditionalist. ]
Despite Mukai’s dejected act, the frown he flashed at me made it very clear that I would be paying for Vedr’s snipes. I rushed over, interposing myself between the two and saying, “Annnnyyyyywwaayyyyss… We’ll talk later, Vedr. ‘Kay?”
Vedr began to retort only to be cut off by a siren sounding across Offutt. Unlike the midwestern tornado siren I was used to hearing, this wailing klaxxon made my blood run cold. I knew what the sound meant without needing to ask. An aerial raid on Offutt was imminent.
The actual pilots and techs of the 55th Wing scrambled from the training hall towards their respective hangars where their aircraft were stored. Mukai caught my inquiring look and answered before I said anything, “There’s no way you’re ready to go up there, Cupcake. Don’t even think about it.”
I started to reply before Vedr interrupted, [ It stands to reason Offutt is being attacked because of my presence here. I cannot sit idly by on the ground while others fight on my behalf. Plus this could serve as excellent combat experience for Cinder. ]
“Or you could get shot down because your pilot barely knows what she’s doing,” rebuked Mukai. “Don’t make me pull rank on you two.”
Vedr and I shared a look. Sure, I was scared. Terrified, even. But I knew I had a responsibility to the other pilots on base. I couldn’t let them fight on Vedr’s and I’s behalf. Vedr’s slight nod signaled that she was thinking along the same lines, or so I interpreted in the moment.
“We could always go AWOL if you like,” I managed to get out despite the tightness growing in my chest. “Plus we all know there’s no way to stop Vedr from going if she really wants to. Your call whether we go up as part of the defensive flight or as a rogue element.”
Mukai’s frown hardened. “When you come back, not if but when, I am going to run you so hard into the ground that your legs will snap off at the knees.”