hutheman2252

[hutheman2252]

Part 4

“If you could please state your name and callsign to the camera.” 

“Harold Carter of the Stedrum air force, Callsign Mercury.” 

“Now could you tell us your experience in this war please. “

“Well I was only in the early days. Tip of the spear you know. I was assigned to lead a squadron to take out some rinky dink air base in the middle of nowhere. Motherfuckers had The Green Knight. Terrifying, simply terrifying I never saw it coming. I was lucky to eject and thats when she wasn't even notable.”

“I see. Well thank you for your time sir.”

Once Gareth had returned, The last of the fighters had finally landed. Deciding to take initiative from the majors advice he went to the hangar where the famous green mig was kept. Looking up he awaited the pilot's descent to him. Once she had made it down the ladder however instead of greeting him with open arms. She threw up onto Gareth’s shoes. After which she passed out onto him needing to be caught and supported. 

“Shit.”

A while after Gareth had helped Kylah into a bed in sickbay with the Hibiscus’ in a vase. He had already left.

Stepping out into the sunlight once again after the commotion. Gareth noticed the one remaining of the two tomcat’s sitting outside. Surrounded by a congregation of dark clad people. Deciding to investigate, Gareth approached. 

Once he had entered the viewing range he took note of seemingly the leader of the group. A man dressed from neck to shoe in black and red accented robes, A Priest. Behind him were two holy servants. He eavesdropped in onto the situation, Just now taking notice of the red wings upon the tomcat.

“May the Lord's flame cleanse this beast of sin. May it fly with his grace, Be protected by his brevity, And protect this country and its people.”

Gareth having had decided he has heard enough walked off brushing the ritual off as a bit strange but clearly personal. Before he managed to make it off however one of the Holy servants beckoned him. 

“Hey! Come here a sec”

Knowing he’d been caught, Gareth turned in resignation. And paced back over to where the cleansing was taking place. The holy servant opened his mouth to scold Gareth.

“Kid don't you know its not polite to listen in on other peoples business. Who gave you the rig-”

The holy servant no older than a few years than gareth was cut off by the Priest.

“Now brother Johnathan don't you think it wrong to scold a young man simply for taking interest. The doors of the church are open to everyone you know.”

Johnathan turned his head off in shame.

“I suppose so father Joseph”

Joseph smiled warmly before patting his subordinate on the head.

“I do appreciate you helping though everything you do pays off. Now if you'd be so kind as to let Peter show you and sister Genevieve to the food hall.”

The father winked to Jonathan signaling he’ll be alright. Turning his head back to gareth as the pilot showed the two off.

“So son. When’d you arrive here?”

Gareth met the fathers gaze. Joseph’s greater stature served to intimidate. Yet his facial expressions were somewhat comforting and warm.

“Excuse me sir? What could you mean?”

The fathers smile got wider enjoying the chance to show off his deduction skills.

“Well I can tell you aren’t a soldier by your listening stunt. As well as the fact that Peter invites us out to cleanse his aircraft anytime he’s involved in the take down of another. I've never seen your face before”

Gareth sighed at this fact.

“Yesterday sir. There’s already been an attempt on the base in that time.”

The father’s expression turned stern. His disciplinary roots clearly showing through.

“Rattled at all?”

He prodded with a furrowed brow before Gareth could respond.

“A little bit Father. Nothing I shouldn’t be able to shake though. Especially in the care of these guys.”

The fathers expression turned back to its usual smiley flowery self. 

“You’re a bright one aren't you son. Listen if you ever need a place to turn the church in town and its doors are open to anyone.”

Gareth put his hands in his pockets thinking before responding.

“Thank you sir but I haven't been practicing for a while. My family is heavily religious though. Couldn't go a minute without seeing the lord's face in a candle being lit to remind us of his sacrifice that gave the light to guide his family to safety.”

The father patted him on the back.

“Nonsense son not just for prayer. I’m very aware of how these military types get to be. Peter can’t seem to go five minutes without getting homesick for the Monastery.”

Gareth didn't seem to recognize the name.

“Peter Father?”

Joseph’s expression turned embarrassed.

“I suppose you would know him by preacher first and foremost. He’s a good kid though and since he was trained to be a priest he technically out ranks those servants you saw earlier. They treat him like a big brother its amazing. You know I was the one teaching him too. Took him under my wing a few years ago. He’s always there to help when people need it even if he has to get his elbows dirty. Forgive my rambling but that's what a holy man should be. Not just a martyr but a man of the people”

Gareth sat quietly before delivering a response.

“You clearly respect him a great deal, Father. Joseph.”

Joseph leaned in.

“A great deal more than you would expect, son. But when it comes to protecting people… He’s more a shield than a spear.”

His expression turned a bit more dark.

“Now I know this might not bring you too much comfort but. There’s a storm brewing so to keep yourself safe take this.”

The father handed Gareth a pistol. Dark metal in his palm it felt cold on the outside but like it had an inferno in its gut.

“There's only a single shot. And its been cleansed so anyone hit by the bullet will be sent to the great light. If you choose to allow that to bring you comfort.”

Gareth took it before putting it into his coat. His expression was confused and almost downturned. 

“Thank you father. But why are you choosing to trust me.”

Joseph leaned back and allowed himself to be smiley once again.

“There comes a time when everyone must protect themselves to save those around them. I trust yours may be sooner than you expect. And i trust that you’ll be pull through son.”

Before he could continue Joseph was cut off by a call from a ways off.

“Father Joseph! Leave that poor photographer alone, I'm sure he doesn't want one of your lectures.” 

This time it was Sister Genevieve who spoke up instead of Johnathan.

Preacher rested a hand on her shoulder before giving her some words. Most likely on the importance of “respecting your superiors. Especially the father. Once the holy servants had reconveined with the father they walked off Presumably back to the church in the center of town.

Peter turned to Gareth.

“I hope he didn't give you too much grief did he.”

Gareth paused a second before processing what Peter had said.

“No not much at all, just exchanged some ideology more than anything.”

[hutheman2252]

Part 3

Like synchronized swimmers the ground crew dragged heavy mats carried by ropes behind them across the runway. Quickly they are followed by the second row of crew beating down the dirt with wide faced hammers. Once again followed by the dragged mats until the path reached satisfactory conditions. Quickly ushered out of the way by the marshall before he took his place signaling one by one four of the five aircraft to prepare for takeoff and be ready.

With considerable haste they moved out one by one. Without realizing the Major was stood beside gareth muttering a tally of the different fighters,

“The Viggen, The Tomcat,The Fulcrum, The second Tomcat, And the Harrier is hovering off the pad.”

Major Davids’ mind seemed to be a million miles away from where he stood analyzing everything from a bird's eye view in his mind. The gears turning almost audible by their rapidity. 

The screeching of enemy fighters grew closer. Davids taking note of the engine notes and body shapes listing off their models almost like a doctor would symptoms. 

“Two Sukhoi flankers, and an f5 tiger shark. Nothing they can’t handle”

Many howitzers. Howitzers made for anti personnel and anti tank applications, Turned their guns to the skies taking aim towards the enemy airframes. The allied jets formed up to go meet the threat head on and ward them away. Before suddenly, And without warning. 

From near the ground a missile hit the underside of one of the tomcats. Killed on impact.

The culprit climbed a corkscrew upwards behind the friendly formation before turning to facing the backside.

The major swallowed before speaking up.

“A Berkut. Fuck”

The major raises his hand and begins to yell across the field grabbing anyone he could to pay attention.

“One of you lot. Bring me a radio patch me through to the squadron’s channel immediately”

One of the ground crew dressed in an oil and muck stained orange coverall. Setting it on a table, Moving the dials back and forth/ until finally giving the thumbs up and handing the handset to Major Davids. The body of the radio itself screeched to life. A familiar voice comes out, Kylahs.

“Well Major, it's kind of a fucky situation. How many did you count? We've only picked up four, including the Berkut.”

The major pushed down the button furrowing his brow preparing to guide his soldier.

“Right Preacher Lad, Go for an invert dive. break formation ‘n take one of the flankers on the slope with you and have Eiffel tails you. After that let Bookie guide you to the next target and act with discretion.”

Once he had put the handset back into its sitting spot he turned to Gareth. Now with his signature grin back on.

“So lad what do you think of Kylah. She your type? She’s ‘bout your age, you know.”

Almost as if somebody’s hat had dropped. The major had swapped his entire demeanor.

Nevertheless gareth responded in toe.

“Haven’t really thought about it Sir… Not like I specifically have a type.”

The major leaned a bit further forward

“Ah but you're dodging the question now aren't you. You know that's how I met my wife. Through the air force. Was a pilot herself I even got to be her wingman”

Gareth looked away a looking back at the ripping and squealing coming from the sky,

“Suppose so sir”

The radio screeched awake calling for attention. A man’s voice came from it this time. In the distance a loud boom could be heard.

“Preacher speaking splash confirmed sir. But bad news, The Bekrut isn't just another pilot. Roman got close and saw 8 kill marks. Its an ace”

The major’s stomach turned as his expression turned dark before using two fingers to signal one of the ground crew to come closer and listen in.

“Can you tell me anything else about the thing? Any customization, any personalized markings. Hell even any scratches or dents of note?” 

There was a thick pause only broken by the burning of fuel into the sky.

“A giant yellow star on its back”

The ground crew sprinted off inside off to the inside of the cathedral. Seconds To minutes passed on by. Feeling like a year with every moment. Before finally he sprinted back. A single manilla folder in hand. Once the crewman came back the major pressed back down on the button.

“Major! We found the pilot. Apparently they call him mercury. Got his air to air’s by chasing formations. Goes low, shoots high.”

The major taps his foot looking back to the radio swallowing in his throat.

“You heard the man lad. Lordspeed.” 

Davids turned the radio off fully and sat down in one of the lawn chairs Kylah kept in her hangar. Letting out a loud exasperated sigh.

“She likes Hibiscus you. They’re even in bloom right now. You should pick up a bouquet for her so she’ll have something nice when she lands.”

Gareth raked his brain for a sane response before finally swallowing his pride and replying.

“Understood sir. The flower shop is only a block from here?”

The major smiled

“That's right, just exit the gate and go a block left. Should be quick about it though lad.”

Once Gareth had made it out of the gate connecting the base to the road he heard a loud boom. He turned around to see a shimmer of green climb through a plume of smoke and ash from down low. The Dullahan had won.

[hutheman2252]

Part 2

Ch.2: Dullahan

“Uh well does it have a story so to speak?”

Gareth prodded not sure as to what response he’d garner.

Kylah’s smile widened like the fangs of a wild animal. He’d clearly asked a question she would love to give the answer to.

“Well it's one of three sister planes. They were all named after authors too. It goes Fyodor being the oldest, Anton is the middle, And Leo being the youngest of the three. They’re both stationed in the capital and Navy respectively though. But what’s really special is the story of how we got them. You see back when we were occupied by the Sterdrum forces they had brought a whole batch in. 25 in total, So what some revolutionary freedom fighters had done was pose as Sterdrum pilots  patches and all. They wound up stealing only those three and hiding them away in a depot until after the revolution had ended. After which they were found by the government and distributed. Of course though each one was given to a capable pilot to customize as they see fit. It's actually a funny story Leo went to my older sister who enlisted in the navy before I could in the air force.”

Gareth listened keenly, hanging onto every enjoying her rambling. Clearly Kylah cared a great deal about her fighter treating it like a living breathing animal, And its story like her own life.

“So how have you customized yours miss? Aside from the paintjob of course”

Gareth asked, just hoping she would speak more and more. She had clearly been waiting for somebody to take such an interest and he was more than happy to be the one.

“Well since it's only an early model it didn't have thrust vectoring. So of course I had no choice but to start by changing the engines to be more powerful and have that 3d vectoring. After that I demanded the radar be changed out from the standard mechanical array to an AESA radar. You do know what that means, yes?”

Gareth paused knowing he was far out of his depth. Clearly sensing he didn't, Kylah decided to pick up the gaps for him.

“All you need to worry about is it can detect a lot more at once and a lot faster than a mechanical radar. Speaking of radar, once I had the ailerons swapped out I had the paintjob installed. But it's more than just a pretty layer of Decor you know, it also serves a purpose too.”

Gareth was loving the mile a minute speech as he attempted to take mental note of everything she says

“What might that be miss?”

Kylah pushed up her glasses before laying back in her seat

“Its iron ball radar absorbing paint. Which Functionally makes this thing is a ghost on the battlefield… At least compared to other 4th gen fighters of similar capabilities. It’s actually how I earned my callsign; Dullahan. A headless horsewoman in a coach bringing death, And rarely sighted. Although it may also come from me being told not to lose my head by Preacher but that's semantics.”

Gareth chuckled a bit, finding her need to drone a lot more charming than the Major’s.

“I think I got a good amount out of you, thank you. If it wouldn't be too much trouble to ask Miss Would I be able to get a photo of you with your plane?”

Kylah perked up from her seat instantly running to stand in front of Fyodor putting up a peace sign with her hand and an overflowing grin. Gareth took the photo before thanking her again, shaking her hand exchanging a few more words and farewells. Before he had walked off So as to find the Major and continue on with their tour. He hadn’t noticed that Davids had stepped out. Once Gareth had stepped out of the hangar almost as if to reprimand him. The bells began to ring echoing their eerie call outwardly carried with the wind.

Gareth turned towards the horizon listening in. an almost demonic squeal followed suit.

Something is coming.

[hutheman2252]

Part 1 untitled

“When the sky comes crashing down there will be two perspectives to view it from. Either behind a camera lens, or a gun reticle. That's what he told me that day before it happened.”

Ch.1: Sunday Service

2006 AL / The city of Nelo / The Republic of Ferdiland / The Svar gulf

A young man was awoken by the stopping of the bus, Its hydraulics squealing as it halted. Before he was able to make his leave a two soldiers stepped on accompanied by a tall standing man in a similar uniform. Assumably their commanding officer. Before the young man could so much as speak, the commander’s projected booming voice bellowed in front of him.

“You lad you’re the photographer are you? The one we hired for the press articles right?. “What was your name again? Jared? Greg?”

The Major continued on and on awaiting interjection

“Gareth, sir”

The Major looked pleased by his respect and humility.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Major Thomas Davids of the 41st fighter squadron. I’ll be the one to accompany you today”

He signaled Gareth to stand and follow so as to exit the bus. Immediately after stepping off the Major stretched his back. Although not being the one sitting for hours he acted as though he needed the Fresh air and movement.

Gareth followed close behind Major Davis as he gave a basic rundown of the place and its functions walking past sheds and hangers alike. 

“We’re much much smaller than your average base. You know there’s only about five aircraft actively operating from us down here. But that adds to the charm I suppose. Plus we are not audited as frequently and it's less of a strike risk so there’s benefits. Of course we’re no different in terms of basic structure as you may or may not know.”

The major seemed to be droning on and on about the inner workings and as though he could read Gareth’s bored mind he spoke with a lot more vigor.

“Lad what do you think of the architecture”

Gareth looked around before responding.

“The architecture sir?”

The major looked at him as though Gareth had asked him which direction the ground was.

“It's not everyday you see an air base let alone one connected to a cathedral is it? It's somewhat our claim to fame among the press… for what little press we get at least”

Gareth looked at the cathedral feeling dwarfed by the up reaching spires.

“It’s alright. It's a bit strange  though, isn't it?”

The major stopped in his tracks turning around

“Well the land was secularized a while back when they moved the cathedral to the center of town. Everyone equally close to God and all that. So they didn't really need one out on the edges of the town right in a wheat field stretching for miles upon miles now do they. Of course it just makes it cheap for us and gives us a good launch point to wherever we’re needed. Especially with the… Escalating tensions. It's actually quite funny the air raid sirens are just the church bells since they’re loud enough. So if shit were to hit the fan it’d sound quite a bit different to what you'd expect.”

As they continued on throughout the shadow cast by the cathedral loomed over. Marching through path by path. The young man Gareth took note of the different aircraft pacing along the taxiway and fields. One in particular had caught his eye though, a beautiful British racing green aircraft decorated with bone white chevrons repeating upon its back climbing along like a spine pointed towards the cockpit's single seat. Stamped onto the side turbine intake were the words. “But how could you live and have no story to tell?” Causing the major to lean down talking in a much more hushed voice.

“That one caught your eye, has it? I understand why, beautiful airframe that one is.”

Gareth leaned in matching the same tone and volume.

“What’s its name, Sir?”

The major rested his hand on the young man’s shoulder before beaming with a smile.

“The Mikoyan MiG-29. Piloted and personalized by the 41st squadron’s very own: Kylah ”

“Kylah?”

Inquired Gareth “You deaf lad? Yes, Kylah would you like to go meet her?”

Answered Major Davids.

Gareth perked up at the idea. Knowing full well the more unique of an article he captured, The further he would excel on this assignment. Seeing it fit to go with he trotted alongside Major Davids knowing full well this was a rare opportunity, Even for an airbase. 

“Is this airbase more um… religiously inclined so to speak. Than other ones I mean. In contrast”

Gareth asked as they were strolling across the packed dirt of the runway. Despite the ill advisability of their actions.

“Well while the base itself isn't more religious we have a couple few practicing members who. Despite the cathedral being secularized, Still use it for religious purposes. One of which in particular is quite a bright lad, a real go getter. He’s wonderful for morale, he helps the whole ecosystem of pilots, you know. Quite the wonderful boy. Was going to be a pastor before he enlisted.”

They continued to walk along. The distance seemed almost like a marathon at this point. The amount of droning done by the Major made it feel almost artificially stretched out. Once they had finally reached the hangar the pilot Kylah was still seated within the open cockpit asleep. Presumably resting for her next flight. Before long the major began banging on the body of the airframe.

“Oi!”

He banged on the plane three more times

“Oi!”

The major hit it another three

“Oi!”

He continued on until finally Kylah woke up blinking to lucidity. Looking down on the two boys with a squint attempting to make out their form before putting on a pair of glasses. Clear in lenses with gold aviator frames. 

“Oh good morning Major Davids! Its Eight in the Fucking morning who’s your friend and why are you two bothering me.”

Thomas laughed a little bit. Heartily from the top of his chest before finally meeting her gaze. Before he finally answered.

“The lad’s a photographer. Name’s Gareth, Fyodor caught his eye and he wanted to see if he could get some photos. I assume with you in it. He’ll ask some questions too. so play nice yeah?”

Kylah sighed before begrudgingly climbing out of the cockpit and down the ladder presumably to meet Gareth. However she walked straight past him to the hangar wall. Where she picked up two lawn chairs before extending them and pointing at the one she hadn’t sat in to indicate Gareth to take a seat.

Before the silence became any more heavy and suffocating Kylah finally spoke up, Mainly to prod towards his intentions.

“So what do you want to know about Fyodor?”