I own nothing involved with this story, all elements are accredited to Bandai Namco and Teletoon.
It has been said that the Usean Continental War of 2003 through 2005 was a turning point for Usea, and eventually, the world. However, the war is paltry compared to its root; Ulysses. The asteroid's impact had immediate casualties of approximately 500000, with an additional 100000 dying of disease and starvation in the year that followed. Though by summer 2002 the majority of all refugees were either back in their homes, in government provided housing, or having migrated from the Usean continent, the societal effects of The Panics and the impact took it's toll on daily life and government, particularly in Erusea…
-excerpt from an eighth grade Usea and You textbook, published August 9th, 2023, Neucom Print Media.
9/27/02
The bus moved through the streets of Los Canas carrying the latest batch of recruits coming from the hastily set up recruitment and physical training center near the Capitol, and a few others had met up from wherever else they might have been. But regardless of where they came from, they had the same destination. The crowded city center slowly gave way to the modest apartments and low rise office buildings as the city gave way to the suburbs. The bus itself was aging, over 30 years old, with "Los Canas Rapid Transit Authority" still on the side in faded orange letters. It was clear this bus hadn't been maintained since Ulysses. That irked the scowling man sitting in the front; it seemed like barely anything was maintained anymore. I hate it when we have justification to pine for the old days, he thought. The bus pulled onto an avenue, and through the trees, clinging onto their last fall leaves, the man could see the city's old airport, now a training base for the boisterous recruits behind him.
Meanwhile, the pilots chatted amongst each other, unlike the stoic airmen the commercials displayed with triumphant fanfare.
"So," one hopeful pilot with a wide brimmed hat said, turning to a brown haired girl next to him, "What's your name? Where ya' from?"
The other pilot was distracted for a second by the view out of the window, then turned to the recruit in the hat.
"Oh, sorry. I'm Courtney Marris, I'm from Newfield Island," she said perkily, although saying Newfield Island appeared to be somewhat painful for her.
"Newfield?" the recruit with the hat restrained himself from saying a 'Yikes' or to show some other form of pity. "Well, I'm Geoff McCall. I'm from an island too, but I'm from the Comonas."
"Really," Courtney responded, "is it always as nice as those movies and stuff say it is?"
"Actually, yes."
"I didn't expect that at all actually, you'd figure that movies would lie about everything these days."
"I guess that's an exception then," Geoff concluded. Another recruit joined in, another girl with fiery hair.
"He's totally right. I've reenacted a whole lot of movie stuff!" she said so fast it barely could be understood with a somewhat manic grin, "But it didn't really go well…"
"And you are?" Courtney asked, somewhat irritated at the interruption of the conversation.
"Izzy," the girl said, shaking Courtney's hand.
"I'm Courtney and that's Geoff."
"Oh, I already knew that," Izzy said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Courtney raised her eyebrow, but before she could say anything, the bus stopped in a motor pool alongside a row of other buses.
"Okay nuggets," a dark skinned man in the front yelled, using the term for new pilots, "Get moving, we have a lot to do! My name is Captain Will Wilson, call-sign, Hatchet. I'm your flight instructor, and by the time I'm done, you WILL be a formidable force.
The recruits then burst into an automatic "Yes sir!"
"Eh, good I guess. Follow me."
All of the pilot hopefuls grabbed their bags and formed a quiet line; they'd seen enough war movies to know that this guy was the de facto drill sergeant, and should be listened to. They were led out of the bus, through the former passenger drop off, and into the terminal. They passed abandoned check-in counters, restaurants now serving as makeshift mess halls, and the ubiquitous black faux-leather seats, now in a tight row waiting for some other use for them. Security lay dismantled, and the pilots passed through with more ease than they were used to. They passed gates, now housing transport planes and their AWACS. Finally, at the terminal's last gate, the door lay open. The man led the pilots down the staircase and onto the tarmac. About a half-mile away, a hangar stood, its white paint peeling off the corrugated steel walls, with the occasional patch of rust. Hatchet beckoned the pilots towards the hangar, and they began to walk. After ten minutes it was reached. The doors stood open, and the pilots let out slight gasps. There inside, lay their planes. A few trainer aircraft were parked in a corner, but they were eclipsed by the actual planes. A few F-15 Eagles, F-16's, some various MiGs- mostly 29's with a few 21's, and even a solitary Typhoon were parked and seemingly ready to go. Some were in FCU standard ghost gray, some were in camouflage colors, and a few were even in the bright colors of ceremonial planes formerly from Ugellas' air force.
"Hope I don't get one of those stupid bright red planes. That's so gay," one trainee sneered.
"Shut up, that's mean," Izzy said, "I think they're so cool. You know, I think I painted something like that in my 2nd grade art class, or was it some orange elephant or something… I'm Izzy," Izzy introduced.
"Duncan," the sneering trainee said errantly, and turned away.
"Okay, be that way," Izzy replied. A short guy next to her sighed.
"You know, why do you even try talking to people like that?" he asked. "You know they have very little in the way of positive traits."
"How do you know everything about him?" Izzy asked.
"We went to the same school; we're both from Los Canas. I'm Noah Barnes. You?"
"Isabel Daniels, but you can call me Izzy," Izzy said in a sing-song voice.
"Okay then," Noah said.
"Okay, that's enough ogling. You've gotta work to fly these planes nuggets!" Hatchet yelled. "You have half an hour to unpack your things. You would have been assigned roommates, but that roster was lost, with half of every other written within ISAF, so just assign yourself three to a room on the top floor. SAME GENDER! Girls towards the end on the hall; guys on the other side." Hatchet clarified, wiping the smirk off Duncan's face. Out behind Hatchet, a truck rumbled towards the group of recruits. Hatchet acknowledged the truck,
"This truck is taking you to your barracks. I want you at the simulators in the main hangar by 14 hours!"
The truck's colicky motor softened, and the pilots threw their bags into it and climbed up.
"So, you excited to begin training Courtney?" Geoff asked.
"Yeah, this could give me what I want," Courtney replied softly.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, nothing."
The truck rumbled on, leaving Hatchet in a cloud of dust. The truck continued, with everyone continuing their conversations even louder. Izzy peered out the back and off to the side, getting a feel for her new home.
"Okay, you seem way too crazy to be a pilot? Why'd you sign up instead of becoming… something else?" Noah asked
"Are you kidding me? Access to fighter jets, the pay, the glamour, the explosions, why wouldn't I join?" Izzy replied.
"Someone is about to have their idealism ripped from them," Noah said.
"Oh come on, we aren't at war. Besides, it can't be as bad as those movies say it is. After all, they are action movies."
"Eh, you have a point. But this won't be what you think it is, trust me," Noah said.
"Cheer up… Noah is it? It's a nice day out!"
"I'm really not going to get listened to, am I?"
Noah was met with silence from Izzy, watching a C-17 land.
"Guess not."
4/21/96
Izzy was in the backseat when it all began. Her parents had decided to take leave from their jobs, and go on a vacation to some Wild West themed resort in Faith Park over Izzy's spring break. Traffic wasn't bad, the skies were bright blue, and ships still lazily floated in to Comberth Harbor. The day was simply…amazing. The bags were packed, the teal two door SUV was started, promises of souvenirs were given to Izzy's friends, and they left their home into the crisp mid-morning.
Route 44 went from Comberth Harbor to Port Edwards while going through Faith Park near their resort, making their journey a simple drive north. The homes gave to office towers as they passed the new harbor additions made back in the late 80's, which gave to a few scattered factories which then gave way to the dry grasslands around the city. Izzy thought of various thing she could do at the resort, such as actually trying an Old West shootout! With some lifeguard or concierge or something. Or reenact the whole "Save the lady tied to railroad tracks" scene. There was a lot of exciting stuff one could do there besides just riding plain old horses.
Izzy then began to protest the old country CD playing, "Hey mom, can we just turn on the radio? We've listened to this in the car a million times."
"After the next track, because…"
"Oh, let me guess," Izzy rudely interrupted. "You met Dad and that song was playing or something!"
"No," Izzy's mom snapped, "I like it. Don't speak to me like that."
"What do you need to say to your mother Izzy?" her dad asked.
"Sorry," Izzy said, while rolling her eyes, "I was just honestly making a guess. That would be so sweet!" The track finished, and the next track began to play as Izzy's mom sang along. As she reached the first chorus, she noticed something.
"Izzy, John, look at that!"
On the shoulder a white convertible and a red sedan were parked, and their occupants were standing there, looking distraught. One woman cried into her hands and continued to sob as Izzy's parents parked the SUV. Her parents got out, and as an afterthought, Izzy's dad moved the seat forward to let Izzy out. She sprang out and ran up to the woman.
"What happened?" she asked in her usually fast tone. "Did you accidentally kill a squirrel or something, because I did that when making bottle rockets with lighter fluid when I was eight, and I was like, 'Oh no', and the squirrel was like 'Squeak', and I was all 'Run' and the squirrel was 'BOOM!' I cried for a really long time, but then I realized that there will always be other squirrels, and roadkill doesn't bother me as much as it used to now."
Izzy finished her speech, and found that the woman was still crying.
"This isn't about squirrels," she managed to say between sobs, "and this is going to be so much bigger than a bottle rocket."
Izzy raised her eyebrow, returned to a grin and walked over to the convertible, where her parents and a man were standing solemnly.
"Hey Mom, Dad," she said, "What's going on? From the looks of that lady, it sounds really dramatic."
"You tell her Liz," Izzy's dad said. Izzy's mom did nothing, she just pointed at the car. Izzy adopted a look of confusion, and walked over to the convertible. She grabbed the sides of the door, and leaned over to hear the radio, which was still playing despite the fact the car's engine was turned off. A government broadcast seemed to be on.
"…Free air travel will be provided by Air Ixiom for families wishing to reunite due to the circumstances. However, all people must remain calm and ensure that order prevails. Keep hope, this may not be the end. We will go over instructions to prevent looting after the basic broadcast is repeated."
The station turned to static for a second, and the same voice came back again.
"Please listen to this broadcast. It is of utmost importance for society and security." The voice paused. "In December 1994, the University of Seals Bridge made an important discovery." Another pause came. "This discovery is Ulysses1994XF04, an asteroid expected to strike the Earth." Yet another pause came, almost as if the broadcast expected gasps and skepticism. "The Univeristy, along with the Usean University of Astrophysics at Comona, have calculated Ulysses' trajectory. The projected date of impact is July 3rd, 1999. This is not an entertainment broadcast, nor is it a hoax. The Federation of Central Usea endorses this message, and encourages its citizens to keep safe and avoid risky behavior."
The broadcast then repeated the section about free flights. Izzy was hugged by her parents, and they all shared sinking feelings that asteroid or not, their world would be changed forever.
Courtney was at school. It was cool and rainy that day, so the denizens of Newfield Island shut themselves up in their homes and classrooms for a few more minutes before going back to work after lunch. The quiet of Anderson High School's library all of a sudden became warm and inviting, and Courtney found herself in there for her lunch period, sandwich in one hand, a mystery novel in another. Her friend, Bridgette Nielsen, was sitting in the chair next to her, simply sprawled out in the chair.
"Why are you so tired?" Courtney asked, full of her usual sort of enthusiasm.
"Ugh, I had to take this huge science test. It was just brutal," Bridgette replied.
"That's why you should study," Courtney said, "If you do that, you're golden!"
"Easy for you to say Miss 'I get everything we're learning in class but I study anyway because I'm scared of having a life.'"
"Oh please, I totally have a life. My schedule is full of extracurricular activities done out of my own choice, which give some social interaction, all while getting me ever closer to UNP St. Ark."
"My point exactly. Maybe we should go to Annette's and get some cinnamon rolls or something and possibly rent one of those sailboats once it clears out," Bridgette said.
"I do have a life, Bridgette. I have friends, thank you very much!" Courtney huffed.
"Courtney, please be quiet," the librarian said over from her desk.
"Sorry Ms. Mason," Courtney mumbled. "But fine, I'll go with you after school and we'll get cinnamon rolls."
The loudspeaker crackled to life unexpectedly, and the principal's voice spread through the school.
"Attention all students and teachers; please report to your homerooms and read the memos that are currently being taped to your door. Please do not be alarmed by any circumstances brought up by this announcement, thank you."
The message ended, and Bridgette raised an eyebrow,
"What was with that do not be alarmed thing? He never says that, ever."
"Oh, probably news of some school shooting in Amber or Erusea or somewhere, and we'll end up having some overdrawn, cheesy seminar about accepting other people," Courtney said sarcastically.
"Oh joy. I already learned from those; I walk around with you all day!" Bridgette joked as she packed up her books and binders.
"Hey!" Courtney exclaimed indignantly, shoving her Trapper-Keeper in her bag. The two got up from their seats, disposed of their trash, and left the library, giving halfhearted goodbyes to Ms. Mason.
"I'll meet you outside Mr. Wilson's room or your homeroom or whatever, and we'll leave from there, okay?" Courtney said.
"Sounds good to me, I'll see you later."
"Bye."
Bridgette went up the hall staircase, while Courtney continued to walk down the hall itself. She reached the end of the building, pushed open the door, and entered the school's courtyard, now packed with students on the go. She cut across, barely avoiding getting jostled around or getting that wet. She entered the building directly across from her, went down its hall, and entered the last room on the left. She entered her math class, with most of the class already there. Her teacher stood in the front, clutching a yellow piece of paper to her trembling hand. Courtney took her front row seat and the teacher gave her a soft greeting. Then she began to read of the paper in her hand.
"At 10 A.M. Usean Central Time, the leaders of the FCU called all of the world's leaders to Los Canas to declare a previously unknown finding. It has been said that this finding will change the face of the world forever, and no one will remain unaffected." The teacher paused, barely able to hold back a panic attack. She took a deep breath, then spoke, not reading off the paper. "They say an asteroid is headed for the Earth."
The class had two reactions. Half of them sat there with their mouths open, and the other half raised their eyebrows and started talking about hoaxes and pranks and sick jokes.
"Everybody, please be quiet. We can... Just calm down already!" The teacher shouted in a burst of confidence. Courtney raised her hand.
"Yes, Courtney?"
"Um, couldn't this just be a massive prank by some seniors or something? Last year, they changed all the letters around on the sign and cut up the h to say Arson Hell. I suppose now they're doing this."
"Courtney, this has the government seal and the Chairman's signature on it."
"Oh, but it could be a very elaborate prank!"
Courtney's teacher said nothing, and instead went over to the TV in the corner. She turned it on, and instead of what should have been some cheap soap opera instead ended up being some sort of press conference.
"… Osea has decided that due to the effects of last year's Belkan War, no sort of anti-Ulysses ordinance can be made on the Osean continent," a presidential looking man said.
"However, in order to protect the Anean continent, Estovakia has already begun to plan a weapon to…"
The teacher turned the television off, and Courtney spoke again.
"That could just be a tape!"
The teacher turned the TV back on, with shots of some concrete circle in the desert on, and pressed the Eject button on the television twice, and nothing happened. The shots of concrete continued. Then it hit Courtney… this was real. The teacher began to read from the paper again.
"The asteroid, codenamed Ulysses1994XF04, is expected to break into many fragments, which are to strike the Earth on July 3rd1999. In response to this threat, the FCU is building the Stonehenge Turret Network in a barren desert region of San Salvacion. It is unknown if this will stop all threats from Ulysses. The government instructs its citizens to remain calm and go about their daily lives. Prevent all looting and keep order in all urban areas." The teacher paused again.
"You... you all can go home now," the teacher said. The students silently picked up their backpacks instead of taking their time to leave and having boisterous conversations. Courtney passed tens of other glum students while going back across the courtyard, through the administration building, and to Bridgette's homeroom. Bridgette was already waiting for her. She was absolutely panicked.
"Oh my God , Courtney, this can't be happening!" Bridgette exclaimed. "But that memo looked real and the TV footage…" Bridgette trailed off. They started to walk out of the building and off campus. They stepped outside to find that the rain had stopped.
"It looks bad… but they're building that Stonehenge thing, and I guess that'll protect people."
"Courtney, will it protect us? San Salvacion's a long way away."
"Well, at least we have three years."
"Yeah, we do. But we could die…and we won't even be in college!"
"And you say I'm negative Bridgette."
They reached the main road outside the school. The suburbs and the airport/air base lay before them leading to the ocean, and further up the hills, and back down lay Newfield City. They began to walk towards the suburbs.
"Well, this isn't a good thing… but I have an idea," Bridgette said.
"You can say it, I guess," Courtney replied.
"Maybe we should make the last three years the best ones ever, go out with a bang. Heck, I might even get you to do something fun before you die!"
"Bridgette, that stopped being funny a long time ago."
"Well, it's true."
"But we'll still die or get displaced in the long run. What's the point to all this and what do you plan to do anyway?" Courtney questioned.
"I don't know. Anyways, how come no one's parents were there trying to pick anyone up? Why didn't they tell the parents their kids were being dismissed early?" Bridgette asked
"I don't know, I guess they thought we all take the bus. Do you have any cable car money? It's going to be a long walk."
"Yeah, I always have money with me. Do you still want to go to Annette's?"
"No, impending doom really takes away your appetite," Courtney said sarcastically.
The cable car station lay directly ahead of them next to a gas station. Bridgette and Courtney behind them, and a cable car was cresting the hills and passing by the school.
"Well, at least we won't have a wait," Courtney observed. The two girls covered the block between the school and the station, and they entered the next car. Neither of them could mention the breathtaking vista of the base and their home, or focus on the barely visible city behind them. The thought of it exploding in flame was just too much.
Geoff was getting ready for his daily lessons. The day was unsurprisingly beautiful on Big Comona. His mom sat before him, holding the teacher's edition to a history textbook. Geoff would have much preferred going to public school, but his parents had thought it best to home-school him while his father served his term. So Geoff found himself sitting on an old stool with the paint long gone with his back against a tree trunk listening to his mom talk about the colonization of San Salvacion.
"The Sapin explorers first landed on the coast in 1518. Half of the men stayed where the ships landed and founded Puerto Nuevo Mundo, and the other half went inland. After finding miles of desert to the southeast, the explorers founded a community on a lake… Geoff, are you listening?" his mom asked.
"Oh… what again?"
Geoff's mom sighed.
"I know that freshman year was much easier than sophomore year and you aren't at school, but you need to focus," she pleaded.
"Well okay then, I guess. Maybe we should go inside."
"Seems good to me." They got up from their spots, picked up their books, and walked across the immaculate lawn of the Lieutenant Governor's house. They entered the home itself and sat at the large kitchen table.
"So, when did San Salvacion get colonized?" Geoff's mom asked.
"Um, it was 15…18?" Geoff answered hesitantly.
"Good."
"Then various disputes with the Ugell civilization befell the fledgling colony…" Geoff's mom droned.
Geoff was reduced to staring out the window, waiting for dad to come home or for three o' clock to come. The sun climbed higher past the ocean through the window, and Geoff found himself wanting to at least have an excuse to leave the house for something, as opposed to now, where he just remained here, chained to a pretty prison. He then figured why politicians were so bad; they went crazy from all of this. His mom them put down the history book and turned to science.
"Okay Geoff, we're going over chapter 6 now. It's the water cycle, which you should be learning for the eighth time."
"Let me guess; the water goes up."
"Yes, and then it goes down. Then it goes up, then down again," Geoff's mom said, "Please tell me you know this."
"I do. Rain is precipitation, and then it forms water vapor when it evaporates, then it…condensates to make clouds, then after it rains again, in goes back to the ocean underground and in rivers and stuff."
"That's basically it."
"Great!"
"Yeah, great. That should be enough schoolwork for the day. I'll get some lunch if you want," Geoff's mom said.
"No thanks, I'm not especially hungry."
"Well then, suit yourself," Geoff's mom replied.
Geoff closed the science book, grabbed the history book, and got up. He went through the pastel perfect living room, into the marble-floored entrance, up the dramatic curving staircase, down the dimly lit hall, and into his impersonally luxurious bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and found the sheets almost smothering. He groaned aloud; not even chilling out was fun anymore now that Dad held office. So he was reduced to sitting at the room's desk, watching a group of elementary school students play kickball in Riass Park a block away. His gaze occasionally wandered to the azure ocean to the gleaming hotels and condominiums to the crowds of beachgoers visible even from here complete with fly sized surfers. He sighed; that was his world. And he was stuck in here. So what if it had a private beach and the place was some historic home, it was just too empty. Geoff knew he was a social creature and this isolation was brutal.
He decided to get over it at least for now, and opened one of the books that was on the homeschooler reading list. It was about these kids at some high school on the mainland who got bullied for no reason and then bad thing x and bad thing y happened to them. He hated it, it seemed like it was written simply to go in conjunction with some middle school "Don't do this" program. By now, the sun was setting, the kids in the park had gone home, but Dad wasn't home yet. Geoff was puzzled, and so he went downstairs. He found his mom in the living room, looking towards the front door.
"Hey Mom, where's Dad at?"
"I don't know he honestly should be home by now. I hate this, he gone more and now I have barely anything to do all day," Geoff's mom said.
"Yeah, I feel the same way."
Geoff took a seat on a different couch than his mother and a few minutes went by in silence. Finally, the door was opened by Dad's chauffeur, and in he came. Lieutenant Governor McCall looked a lot more ragged than all of the photos of him suggested, and his eyes were bloodshot. Geoff's mom got up, and went over to her husband. As she got close, he grabbed her into a tight hug.\
"Honey, what's going on?" Geoff's mom asked.
"You wouldn't believe me. You'd never believe me," Geoff's dad said.
"Why?" Geoff asked.
"Let's all sit down," Geoff's dad said.
All three McCall's took a seat, and Geoff's dad said nothing, just turned on the television. Images flooded the screen. Numbers, computer generated images, some weird complex out in the desert. The volume was turned up.
"…XF04 is expected to break into hundreds of pieces and strike the Earth. The world's leaders have spent the day discussing this dire threat posed by Ulysses, and various forms of combating the asteroid have been started…"
"An asteroid's hitting the Earth," Geoff's dad stated errantly. "It's really happening,"
"It might just be a tape!" Geoff exclaimed.
"There's the channel logo in the corner," said Geoff's dad.
That was enough info for Geoff's mom. She got up, went over to Geoff on the other couch, and hugged him tightly, holding back tears.
Noah was relieved. His three siblings had finally decided to move on to other pursuits for the evening, leaving him with the new computer for the whole night. The TalkNet forums his friends talked about beckoned, as did this interesting Internet thing that came with TalkNet as an extra cost. He shook the mouse to dispel the screensaver, and looked for the Internet icon. He couldn't find one that said Internet, so he clicked on random icons, to no avail. Finally, after opening a word processor, getting three "need disk" windows for everyone else's games, a link that said "Data Bird" opened onto a screen with pictures with captions. As the pointer went over them, a hand appeared. Noah clicked on the first link, which ended up being some cheap tabloid story about some chick that was in the latest hit movie. Noah's opinion; all downhill from here honey. He clicked the back button at the top, and he went back to the news site's main page. He was getting a bit better at this!
At the bottom, some weird concrete circle in the desert was displayed in a rather large image. The caption read "Our Only Hope"?. Noah's eyebrow raised, and wondered if this was some kind of hoax. He clicked the link, and instead of a sparse white page, the page was now FCU flag blue. A wall of text greeted Noah and he started reading.
"LOS CANAS, 10 AM,
Today, the leaders of the FCU, Erusea, Osea, Yuktobania, and a joint representation of Emmeria and Estovakia met in Los Canas today to discuss the biggest issue mankind will ever know – our possible extinction."
"MOM, DAD!" Noah shouted, "YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS! NOW!"
Mr. and Mrs. Barnes entered the room, eyebrows raised, wondering why Noah was so concerned… and loud.
"You have to see this. It's so hilarious what people are trying to pass off as news nowadays!" Noah exclaimed.
Noah's dad walked up to the computer and leaned over the desk. He read aloud the first sentence, looked at Noah with a confused expression, and continued to read on.
"The government of the FCU has declared the existence of an asteroid codenamed 'Ulysses1994XF04' which is expected to strike the Earth on July 3rd1999."
Noah's dad scrolled down, going to the last section.
"However, there is a solution. The Stonehenge Turret Network is being built in a desert region of Eastern Usea, and will be completed in 1998. Rumors of individual projects being carried out by Erusea and Estovakia are also going around."
Noah's dad turned to a map of Usea next to the text. There was a circle around most of the continent, with Stonehenge in the middle of it.
"Look, we're in the middle of Stonehenge's range. Asteroid or not, we'll be safe, and our lives will go on as normal."
"I'd say the same thing," said Noah's mother. They both left the room to continue watching their favorite show. As they left, Noah got the sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, that was the actual site of the FCU, and Stonehenge or not, stability and safety would definitely be lost. For how long, he couldn't guess. Noah shook off the article, closed out Data Bird, and decided to get the disk for that strategy game his recommended to anyone listening. After all, asteroids striking the Earth sounded like the plot to horrible, horrible movies with too much money put into them, and usually get known only for their soundtrack. But then he heard a frustrated voice.
"Dad, my radio is spouting out psycho end of the world nonsense!" his older sister shouted from upstairs.
"That's odd, Noah read an end-of-the-world article on the computer!" Noah's dad shouted back. He turned on the television, already set to his favorite show. Pictures of Stonehenge appeared on the screen, followed by a press conference as opposed to a corny sitcom two seasons past its recommended cancellation date.
"I'm getting the same stuff!" Noah's dad shouted back upstairs.
"What the heck is going on then?" his sister questioned.
"It's all real," Noah said to himself. He put the disk back in its plastic case, and set the case down on the computer desk. He wasn't in any mood for games anymore. He went towards the stairs to tell his siblings what exactly was going on, with a massive pit in his stomach. Maybe it was the end.
The truck came to a stop with screeching brakes. The pilots gathered their bags and hopped down onto a parking lot. Courtney jumped down and looked at her new home, which ended up being the airport hotel, now draped in camouflage sheets in a halfhearted attempt to look like it was intended for a military purpose. The pilots practiced their confident swaggers as they entered, already excited about the prospects of being pilots. The lobby was dusty, and looked like it hadn't been renovated in over two decades. A few other airmen milled about on the green marble floor, nodding towards the stairs. The elevator had an "Officers Only" sign taped beside the door, which elicited a few groans.
"They think they can get everything, huh," Izzy said to Courtney, having joined her.
"They are officers, Izzy. They're our superiors and they get benefits. It's how it's been, so stop complaining," Courtney replied.
"Geez, you're kinda tense, you know that?"
"I've gotten that a lot over the years."
Geoff opened the door and held it open for the two, and they went up six flights of stairs to the top floor.
"Ugh, that's going to be a lot just for everyday," Izzy complained.
"It's not that bad," Courtney said.
Izzy opened her mouth, but decided not to say anything.
"So, um… uh I hope my car doesn't get stolen," Izzy said meekly, trying to change the topic.
"You have a car?" Courtney asked as they entered a vacant room just past a sign that said "Women's barracks."
"Yeah, my parents' old one, they bought a new one as soon as Erusean Automotive went back into business before the boycotts."
"Okay, so where is it, by the capitol?"
"No, I parked it just outside the airport, then I met up with the group at the recruitment center."
A tap on Courtney's shoulder brought attention to a newcomer.
"This is the only girl room with vacancy, so… yeah," a woman said. She seemed older than Izzy or Courtney, about thirtyish with dark blonde hair. She had a serious yet disinterested look on, and was carrying a green duffel bag.
"I'm Mary Simmons, formerly with the Osean Air Defense Force."
"I'm Izzy and that's Courtney. Why'd you leave Osea? It's so… perfect over there," Izzy asked.
"Yeah, well, they've downsized the air force and I didn't want to fly commercial. That, and I actually wanted a bit more combat experience. I was a nugget during the Belkan War and…"
"Combat experience? There won't be a war!" Izzy exclaimed.
"What rock have you been hiding under lately? Erusea's getting aggressive; that new party or whatever is using the remaining refugees and the boycotts to try to get political dominance, and I don't know why. That obviously means a pointless war is on the horizon. Belka did it in the early 90's," Mary calmly replied.
Courtney looked at the digital clock on a bedside table in the corner, which read 13:41.
"We'll take that into consideration. We'll talk later, but Izzy and I need to get to training NOW!" Courtney said.
"First day of training huh? Have fun," Mary said sarcastically as the two left the room. On their way out, they ran into Noah, Geoff, and Duncan walking down the hall.
"Hey guys, we have an Osean roommate!" Izzy said in her typical excited tone.
"Why the hell would some Osean hippie liberal join an army, let alone ISAF?" Duncan said.
"And you would be?" Courtney asked. "And by the way, she does not seem like a liberal."
"Whatever, I'm Duncan. Duncan Davidson. Say, maybe we could get to know each other a little better privately," Duncan said, eyebrows raised.
Courtney adopted a face of disgust and anger, "I dare you to continue speaking."
"Whoa, simmer down!" Geoff exclaimed as he held open the door down the stairs. "We should just get down to business."
Noah and Izzy nodded to show their approval. The group went down the sparse stairs, through the dingy lobby and out front, where the truck remained, still idling. Most of the pilots were there, and they left soon after. As they went around one of the outlying terminals, a large gray hangar came into view. The truck sped towards it, and then came to a stop in front of two propped open side doors. The recruits, now one big energetic group again filed through to find two rows of simulators. Hatchet stood before them.
"So nuggets, your flight training begins. I will be your instructor and I will turn you into a pilot. It won't be like the movies, and definitely not like those silly commercials. But I have one question – are you good enough?"
Throughout the group, there was a mental chorus of 'Yes.'
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