Offutt Air Force Base, Nebraska - October 24th, 2054 - Cinder
Vedr knelt facing away from me to expose the cockpit opening along her back. Her interior was even darker than the simulator pod had been, with no sign of a display or joysticks. Had the situation been any different I might have asked whether this was normal for her. Yet the building roars of jet engines spooling up across the runway while the air raid sirens continued to blare made it clear that this wasn’t the time for doubt.
I hopped up and into Vedr’s cockpit like it was a suit of power armor. My vision went pure black once her canopy sealed up behind me. Then there was a flash of light and my world changed.
No longer was I blind and in the dark. Aside from an armrest to either side of a central holographic readout, Vedr’s entire cockpit had seemingly become translucent hexagons. I could see a full 360-degrees around me in startling detail to the point of being able to see ants on the tarmac. The armrests illuminated and projected luminous joysticks for me to grab onto, somehow offering resistance as my hands wrapped around each control mechanism.
[ Are you comfortable? ] Vedr asked, her voice omnipresent in the cockpit.
“About as well as I can be,” I answered in amazement. “This is definitely not like the sim pod.”
[ Of course not. Most Air-Cores lack the sensor bandwidth and mounted cameras needed to provide the Full Tactical Awareness Suite. Should it become necessary the view can be changed along the electromagnetic spectrum, ranging from radio waves to ultraviolet. The central instrumentation can be customized to your liking, though for now I’ve kept things simple. ]
“Looks like an altimeter, attitude indicator, air speed indicator, and a heading indicator,” I observed. “As well as current reactor output and projected ammunition stores of your TLS, M61A2, and AIM-9Xs. But no turn coordinator or vertical speed indicator?”
[ Both are unnecessary when piloting me. You can add them later if you so wish. For now, Tower is trying to reach us. Patching us in now. ]
A new voice filled the cockpit, one of confidence so smooth that it could be used to butter bread. “ADF-00X, Offutt Tower, taxi to Runway 31 with immediate clearance for takeoff.”
I took a deep breath, did my best to recall my lessons on radio call etiquette and terminology, and replied, “Taxi to Runway 31 with clearance for immediate takeoff, ADF-00X.”
The pause that followed made me supremely nervous. I was about to ask Vedr if I’d done something wrong when Lieutenant Bradley’s voice came in on a different frequency. “That almost sounded professional, recruit. Now do you know what it all actually means?”
“It means I should get in line behind the rest of the 55th and get my ass in the air, Sir” I retorted.
“Hah! Keep chirping, little chick, we’ll make a pilot out of you yet. For this op you’re part of Flight C with me at the head. Your other two wingmates are Quill and Banshee. Say hello to the chick, everyone.”
A quiet, masculine voice barely over a whisper introduced themselves, “Quill here. Nice to meet you.”
Then a bombastic, shrill-ish woman chimed in, “Banshee reporting! Let’s hope you learn quickly in the air before you get assigned a shitty callsign.”
To Vedr, I said, “I’ll let you handle taxi and takeoff if that’s alright.” She responded by kicking on her jets to hover above the tarmac and gliding towards our designated runway. While on the way commented to my new wingmates, “I have been told numerous times that you don’t get to pick your own callsign. One gets given to you based on some (usually) embarrassing quality or performance. Which makes me wonder: What’s the good Lieutenant’s callsign?”
“It’s ‘Fanboy,’” answered Quill in a mumble. “He really likes Air-Cores.”
“Remind me to give you shit when we get back,” replied Bradley. “For now, listen up! We’ve got a whole squadron of Kuxpir craft coming our way. Twelve bogies in all, each one of them unmanned drones. Their numbers were trimmed down by our good neighbors to the north but the drones quickly outpaced pursuing forces. That means they’re likely capable of outflying all of us except the newbie’s Air-Core.”
By now Vedr and I had joined the queue of F-16V’s launching one right after another into the sky. Vedr imposed a light blue highlight over each friendly aircraft both visually and on radar, with my wingmates in green. That’s how I knew Bradley, or Fanboy, was two ahead of me in line. He kept speaking as he raced down the runway like it was an everyday occurance for him.
“Our goal is to destroy or deter the drones from further incursion into American airspace. STRATCOM is hoping for the former so that we can study these drones, figure out how they’ve managed to get this far, and make changes to prevent something like this happening again. We’ll be outnumbering them 2:1, but don’t get complacent. Last time these types of drones were encountered they took out a whole squadron and a half before being sent packing. Keep an eye on your ass and the asses of your wingmates.”
[ Shall I make a comment about his ass, Cinder? ] Vedr asked.
“Gods no. Mukai is already going to kill me for doing this. I don’t need two angry instructors,” I pleaded.
[ Very well. We’re up next in line. Please ensure your tray table is locked and that your chair is in the full, upright position. ]
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Putting aside the mental image of Vedr in a flight attendant’s outfit, I instead focused on the pulsating strip of lights along the runway. Vedr bent over to place her right hand on the ground with her feet angled much like a competition runner’s. The thrum of her reactor revved up a notch before she took off skating. We accelerated so rapidly that I questioned whether she ever truly needed a runway to begin with.
Soon the ground was falling away and I had joined Bradley in the air following behind him. Within minutes Quill and Banshee fell in to my left and right respectively. Twenty-four aircraft had taken off from Offutt. As we all angled to the northwest towards our targets I prayed that all of us would make it back in one piece.
***
“HIT YOUR BURNERS, BREAK BREAK BREAK!”
Every single allied aircraft, Vedr included, broke formation and executed sharp turns as radar warned that we’d all been spiked. The Kuxpir drones had launched beyond-visual-range missiles (BVR) as the gap between us and them shrunk. These missiles didn’t require radar lock, meaning we had mere seconds warning to avoid.
Two allies bought the farm as the BVRs turned them into fireballs. The rest of us made it through the volley intact. But before we could start to regroup the drones were on our asses. The situation quickly turned into a royal clusterfuck full of cross-chatter and warnings as we dueled the trident-shaped Kuxpir craft.
[ Two drones on us have tone, ] warned Vedr as two red holo-triangles appeared pointing back towards our rear and an alert sounded.
“I know, I know!” I shouted exasperatedly while wrenching the controls to the side and sending us into a high-G turn. Unfortunately, the drones stayed on our ass. “If you have any bright ideas, now would be the time, Vedr!”
[ Deploying TLS in rear-facing configuration. ]
Two of Vedr’s sub-arms popped up from her back and angled behind us. Two targeting reticles manifested on the display as the entire cockpit switched to a rear view. It was slightly disorienting to go from flying forwards to thinking I was flying backwards, but there was no other way I could properly line up a shot.
I had a strong suspicion that Vedr was still doing most of the work when it came to painting the two drones. Either that or I’d somehow intuitively figured out how best to use our turning and targeting drift. Regardless, I acquired two locks.
“Lasers out!” I called over the theater to warn others in my squadron. Then I pulled the virtual trigger. A faint whine came from Vedr’s reactor before a beam connected her with the pursuing drones. The TLS burned a hole clean through their chassis, knocking them out of the air as they split into charred pieces.
“Check it out!” called Banshee. “The FNG bagged two bandits!”
“Worry about scratches later, Banshee!” shouted Fanboy. “You’ve got one right up your ass!”
“You’ve got one as well, Boss,” commented Quill. “New girl - you go help Fanboy. I’ll aid Banshee.”
“Roger,” I called back.
Vedr and I reoriented ourselves and dove after Fanboy and his pursuer. To his credit, Fanboy was doing an excellent job making it difficult for the drone to land a hit with its pulse guns. The problem was that the drone still had an edge in this dogfight. Fanboy’s jet was sporting an alarming number of holes and burn marks.
“Damn this bastard is fast,” I swore as I tried to get behind the drone. Even with Vedr’s aid, I kept getting right to the cusp of acquiring a TLS lock before the drone would jink and throw everything off. And throughout all their evasion they kept hounding Fanboy.
“Another hit like that and I’m gonna have to punch out!” he shouted as a volley of plasma bore several trenches across the side of his plane. “Come on, chick, get this guy off me!”
“I’m trying!”
“Then try better!”
After yet another failed lock I started searching for new methods of attack. That’s when it hit me. Vedr seemed to be able to keep up with the drones, if not exceed them. What if we put ourselves between the drone and Fanboy?
I ran my idea past Vedr. She calculated a flight plan in nanoseconds and popped it up onto the display. [ Follow this precisely and we will be able to intercept the drone in melee combat. ]
“Melee combat? Like with a sword or some shit?” I asked as I concentrated on following the illuminated set of virtual rings she’d laid out for me to follow.
[ Correct. All Air-Cores are able to manipulate their anti-grav units and demonstrate why Isaac Newton is just as deadly in the air as he is in space. ]
“Guy’s gotta have a great kill count,” I mumbled, working the pedals and joysticks to get us into position.
The nose of the drone began to glow, signaling it was about to fire a likely killshot. But before it could unleash hell, Vedr and I entered its flight path. It tried to bank and avoid, but it was far too late. The drone could do nothing as a curved saber materialized in Vedr’s hands and slashed laterally.
Vedr didn’t even flinch as the resulting explosion washed over her. I still did, expecting to feel the detonation in the cockpit. Yet I might as well have been coasting across still waters for all the lack of turbulence.
“Thanks!” called Fanboy as he spun to the south. “I’m bugging out to RTB before more warning lights go off. Quill, you’re in charge now.”
“Roger,” Quill replied. “Though I am only reading three more drones within the theater.”
Sure enough, the rest of the 55th had put some work in. It’d cost us five more pilots, but the end was in sight. The sixteen of us that remained corralled the leftover drones into killboxes. Then the engagement was over as fast as it had begun.
“Holy shit, I think my heart’s going to burst,” I grimaced as the adrenaline began to wear off.
[ I recommend taking slow, deep breaths, ] offered Vedr. [ I can handle the flight back to Offutt until you’re ready. ]
“Hardly felt like you needed me to begin with,” I said, doing my best to control my breathing.
[ Untrue. Were I operating alone, I would roughly be at the same skill level as those drones. Even an inexperienced pilot can boost an Air-Core’s performance by up to 25%. ]
“If you say so. How are the others doing?”
[ They are debating a callsign for you, for us, based on our melee kill and double laser spikes. I could tune you into that frequency if you so wish. ]
I shook my head, replying, “Nah. Long as we don’t get something super edgy I’m fine with whatever they throw our way.”
I was wrong.