Crimson Eve
Sudentor
Grunder Industries HQ
North Osea
December 24, 2010
Edge and Archer risked their careers and lives to help me. It's only fair, Blaze thought, that I risked mine too. Being confined in Kestrel's brig was out of the question, not while he can still do, or at least try, something. If any of the Grabacr survivors managed to contact HQ and alert the Grey Men of Blaze's betrayal, he was prepared to offer them information on the Kestrel and Nikanor in exchange to speak with Grunder. If that failed, he would fight his way through. But fortunately, everything has gone much better than expected. He was immediately granted clearance to land, hinting that his betrayal has yet to be compromised.
Almost the whole of Sudentor is owned by the Industries. But the outside world knew only about the factories, offices, and defenses built above ground. For the past years, the nearby mountain was bored through, and an extensive, 5-storey tunnel network built underneath it. Blaze had visited Sudentor 4 times prior to this but he has never gone below level 1. So, when Grunder ordered that he be escorted down to B4, he grew anxious. The place also seemed to be quieter than usual. Perhaps he wasn't as safe as he thought he was.
A short walk down the corridor and a right at the intersection later, he entered Grunder's office which overlooked a control room with a large LCD screen displaying the world map, and the telemetry of three icons, one of which was shaped like the White Bird.
"-must be able to do something else. There's no reason to go with - . . . Yes, yes, it's all over the news . . . Oh, for God's sake, don't you people realize the consequences of this?! . . . I see – then this argument is pointless" Grunder slammed the handle of the video phone into its monitor, breaking both of them. "Ein haufen idioten!!"
The white haired Industries leader, with his elbows on the desk, covered his face and closed his eyes. He looked worn and stressed out.
"Sir, we have brought him" said one of the guards.
Grunder did not say anything for the next dozen seconds. He glanced at the sling which supports Blaze's broken arm before saying, ". . . Did you check what's under that arm?"
"I apologize" said the guard after finding a handgun within the bandages.
"Leave us"
As soon as the armed men left, the older man got up and walked to the glass screen overlooking the control room behind him. He remained silent.
"Bernitz told me. That Belka has no future. Do you truly think so?" Blaze asked, moving closer to the desk.
"Harling and Nikanor met" Grunder said, ignoring the younger man. "You failed"
"I know you heard me" Blaze said, ignoring the other person's comment too.
" . . . I'm a visionary, Wilhelm. The past is of no consequence to me. Belka is beyond salvation. It is nothing but a frigid, lifeless land controlled by corporations. This war may be revenge for some, but for me it isn't as petty as that. Kingdoms fall, city-states rise. City-states crumble, nation-states rise. The cycle goes on as great powers emerge out of the ashes of nation-states. Look at what the concept of 'nationality' did to us: conflict, war, death, destruction! I'm striving to eliminate that. I'm trying to move humanity to the next stage: global unity. Imagine a world where no one is called Osean or Yuktobanian, but simply 'humans'."
"That's conceited. Your utopia isn't realistic and it can't be created on top of blood, the blood of all those who died in this war"
"Oh no? Look at history. Each progress humanity makes is based upon the ridiculous dreams. More importantly, those progresses are built upon the sacrifices of people. History's so drenched with blood that it can't progress without it."
Although his words made sense to Blaze, the pilot couldn't justify the killing of so many just to realize the ambition of one man. The lives of millions in this world cannot the treated like a game. If anything, Grunder was just trying to rationalize mass-murder.
"Look at you. You betrayed the Grabarc and it made you stronger. You couldn't have summoned the courage to return here."
"You knew yet you allowed me in. How much of this is a game to you? What is your intention?"
"Not killing you. I don't wish to see the Grunder bloodline end. We have what it takes to change the world. If the Grabacr is needed to make you stronger, then so be it."
"Arrogance will be the end of you" Blaze spitefully said.
"Whichever way you wish to dismiss it doesn't change that fact. We belong on the same side, Wilhelm. Don't you see that? The world considers, sees, us as the enemy. You have nowhere else to go."
Grunder had always been an eloquent, charismatic speaker skilled at manipulation and subtle coercion. Even if what he said is fundamentally wrong, his listeners are more likely to agree with him that not. His oratory ability was one skill that rallied many to the Grey Men's cause and perhaps also indoctrinated them. That might explain the lapses in Blaze's memory. After all, words are powerful.
Nevertheless, Blaze knew what the older man was hinting at. He should have realized this a long time ago: He had committed war crimes. Even if he were to surrender, he would most likely be killed. The pilot would be lucky if he receives a trial by law, but even that would simply end up in a guilty verdict and his subsequent execution. Who was he trying to fool? Trying to convince Grunder to atone? Will doing so make his past crimes go away? No. After all, why try save the world when you are just going to be killed by that same world?
"Osean and Yuktobanian forces will be here soon. This place and everyone here are done for. I accept that"
". . . You are not telling me everything"
"The more enemies we lure, the more casualties they will suffer. SOLG will make sure of that"
"You can't hide forever. Like you said, the world is our enemy now"
"No, but the others will carry on. You didn't know this but our organization is a collective of three factions. Mine was the biggest, yes, but not the only one. There are other two leaders, and each of us acted independently for the same goal. Nikanor and Harling knew only about this faction. I will gladly be the scapegoat"
"- and take as many as you can down with you. How many more must die? Don't do this . . . let's surrender, together."
Grunder scoffed.
"Don't patronize me. I know how this world functions" he briefly said before changing the subject. "You already know about the SOLG, but it's nothing compared to Treibel. Adolfine's faction controls it. An orbital platform equipped with two electromagnetic field generators. It was designed 15 years ago to work in conjunction with Excalibur, to bend the beam around the curvature of earth. Destruction of the laser foiled the plan. But the generators have another use: it can disrupt other orbiting objects and send them down to earth."
"What? But that would kill- How could you-" Blaze stuttered as he realized the sheer amount of space debris orbiting the planet.
"I realize that using it was too premature. The potential damage to Earth will be staggering. I have protested against it. But letting the enemy's attack may yet be the greatest distraction. As they are preoccupied here, Treibel and White Bird can-"
"One of those icons on that screen is Treibel, right? Stop them! You yourself don't want that weapon used"
Grunder turned around for the first time and looked at his nephew.
"I would if I could. Like the White Bird, Treibel is controlled directly onboard. This is just a monitoring station. . ."
"You are telling me all this for a reason"
". . .There's another way. I would have said this earlier if it weren't for your injury"
"Out with it"
"Here's the keycard to B5. There's an aircraft there. You repel the Allies' attack, I will convince Kruntz and Adolfine to stand down. It's your choice"
The younger man went silent immediately. He was only an individual, and with an injured arm, he can't possibly take part in a battle. He looked back at Grunder. The older man had already turned around again, observing the big screen of the control room below him. Blaze realized that his uncle had yet again tried to manipulate him by presenting that 'offer'.
"Why me? You have other pilots"
Level B5
Grunder Industries HQ
When Blaze first saw the black-colored plane, he began to understand why Grunder didn't answer him. The ADF project was so top-secret that few had knowledge of it, perhaps not even the other two leaders of the Grey Men. The fact that the largest faction of the Belkan organization controlled only the SOLG, not the Treibel, was strange. The FALKEN tipped the scale in favor of Grunder in case a power struggle occurred.
Despite his precarious circumstances, however, Blaze couldn't help but be mesmerized by the plane. Its design was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Even before getting into its cockpit, he had to don a black, futuristic-looking g-suit complete with a helmet which can monitor his brain activity.
The solid canopy closed, enveloping him in darkness for a few seconds. It was so dark that he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. The lack of light made the plane's steady, soft hum noticeable. A single hexagonal LCD screen then lit up in front of him bearing the Grunder Industries logo. It was immediately followed by the words: "ADF-01 FALKEN. Lunaire IOS Ver 4.66 booted. Niflheim Pack 02 detected. Pilot biometrics recognized: Wilhelm Schulz. Starting up…" Blaze realized then that the onboard software was programmed to accept only him. Otherwise, the plane's Intelligent Operating System had to be rewritten from scratch for another pilot. Such restrictive design was intended to increase compatibility between the OS and the pilot. As the OS learns, it would be able to predict the pilot's possible next move and assist accordingly in times of emergency, thus reducing response-time lag.
Right after those introductory words, more hexagons propagated from the initial one, letting a view of the outside. The cockpit controls lit up in blue hues. A keyboard slid from the side of the left console and positioned itself just above Blaze's knees. The right monitor - located just next to the central oval screen showing the aircraft's immediate surroundings– bore the words "Hello, Wilhelm"
"How intelligent are you?" Blaze asked.
"I'm incomplete. I hope our time together can make me grow . . ."
As Blaze briefly scanned through the plane's systems during the start-up sequence, his eyes grew wider and wider in awe. The basic FALKEN already boasts all-round performance above that of the best planes in existence. But the Niflheim Armor Pack 02 – installed around the rear and the belly of plane- improved that performance even more and grants the plane trans-atmospheric flight capability. The resulting bulkier plane size and lack of missiles, nevertheless, is easily compensated by the mod's cutting-edge systems and additional armor protection.
With the Pack, the aircraft was now powered by a miniature nuclear reactor that can fully utilize the twin Erwartung AX-01N/T hybrid nuclear pulse/ turbofan engines. It also has two extra power packs for the Walkure tactical laser cannon; additional memory and RAM for the experimental Lunaire IOS; life-support; ablative gel discharge pod; and a compact ED2 electromagnetic field generator. Such improvements may seem overkill for a plane already equipped with the TLS, but they are necessary for the FALKEN to protect – or engage - the White Bird, SOLG and Treibel in space. The 'Niflheim' line was designed more with "engage" intention in mind. Even after all these, however the whole project works only in theory. Actual usage might end up in a catastrophic failure.
Blaze's heart rate increased and his healthy hand shivered at the control stick. Such power in the hands of one person is dangerous. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, he remembered a quote by one former Osean president: Anyone can withstand adversity, but if you want to test someone's character, give him power. Does he have the character for this kind of power? What should he do to prove he is worthy of the power? Remain with the Grey Men? If so, how long can he keep killing people? Grunder's words sounded too sweet, and his goals too noble, to resist. But the cost of his dream is too great. Blaze, having served with the Sand Island personnel, no longer believed that the end justifies the means.
The platform the FALKEN was on had been raised to an angle. The plane was now pointing at a launch tunnel to the surface. He stared at the night sky at the end of the mentioned tunnel and pushed the throttle stick. The moment the plane cleared the tunnel, hundreds of contacts were registered on the radar screen, a large proportion of them approaching from the south and west. Some of the Industries' fighters of F-22s and TYPHOONs were already up in the air.
Looking at the radar screen in front of him, the pilot made a decision. He pointed the nose of the plane up at 78 degrees from the horizontal and pushed several LCD buttons on the left and right consoles to initiate the take-off procedure. FALKEN's canards and tail rudders locked. The humming of the nuclear pulse engine intensified as the exhausts began emitting small, powder-like, red flares. Blaze could feel his body being pushed into the seat harder and deeper compared to a usual climb. At maximum acceleration, he should reach the upper thermosphere in 30 minutes. Whether that's enough time, he did not know.
Suddenly, everything went dark, much like when he first got into the cockpit. The unique sound of the engines was gone. Even the steady, soft hum from when the plane was starting up was gone. I should have expected this, Blaze thought. Grunder wasn't known to be trusting. He had a contingency plan for everything. In this case, that plan most likely took the form of Lunaire. All of the plane's systems, including the ejection, were linked to the IOS. Therefore if it was erased, the aircraft would just be a multi-billion dollar scrap metal and an expensive coffin for its pilot.
The darkness did not prevent him from knowing that the plane was falling nose-first to its, and his, doom. Strangely, unlike what he had expected, he felt instead a certain peace. There was no panic at all, no fear. His heartbeat – the only thing audible – was steady. Blaze was never a religious person, but he found himself praying – for the second time in his life – not for life, but for the chance to make things right.
Then, he felt the familiar soft, low hum. It was followed by the appearance of the single hexagonal screen. The IOS was rebooting. But the process was different than before. The screen bore the words, "Scenario 22 fulfilled: ground control initiated IOS wipe. Alert, ground control and friendly forces now designated enemy. All data link severed" followed by, "Booting back-up." The cockpit came back to life but a series of warnings ensued.
"Warning: AX-01N/T offline, ED2 offline, TLS offline. Warning: OS higher intelligence disabled. Attempting network reconstruction . . . 31 . . . 32"
Even though Blaze could finally see the outside and at least guide the aircraft into a glide, he grew anxious at the slow rebuilding process. The ground below is slowly, but surely, approaching. Then, the missile lock-on warning began pulsing. Blaze looked around, and – upon squinting – noticed distant flashes to his right. The spike pulse immediately changed to the dreaded missile launch alarm. The cockpit's blue lighting turned red. The pilot instinctively moved his broken arm towards the throttle stick. Only intense pain responded. He reached over with the other hand and found the engines still down. So close, yet so far, he thought as he watched the projectiles close in. However, just moment before impact, the missiles veered off course. Some slammed into the ground 33 ft below, their explosions hitting the right underbelly of the plane.
"AX-01N/T online, ED2 online" Lunaire wrote on the right screen. "Warning: critical failure of starboard TLS power pack. Immediate jettison required. Resuming network reconstruction. . . 53 . . ."
Blaze flicked a switch and the fuel-tank like pod under the right wing dropped off. The aircraft wasted no time regaining altitude as Blaze had already set the throttle stick to the maximum. The damaged pod detonated, disintegrating everything in a 300 ft radius. The relief from that narrow escape was short-lived, however. The ADF-01 couldn't enter the take-off phase with almost two dozen planes shooting at him. The red flares of the nuclear pulse engine will also disrupt the EM field formed behind the aircraft. Furthermore, the ED2 generator will overheat if left active indefinitely. The only other thing that could currently counter those enemy planes was FALKEN's superior maneuverability. But it couldn't be fully utilized because of Blaze's disabled dominant arm. His left hand felt sluggish on the control stick.
13 miles east of Sudentor
North Osea
December 24, 2010
"Man, look at them. I have never seen this many radar contacts. Those Grey-whatcamacallit bastards won't survive" commented the pilot of a second plane out of a 6-plane F-22 formation. "They don't need us as support. Waste of tax-payers money, if you ask me."
"Politics, Captain. Nikanor and Harling were supposed to meet at North Point, but they didn't. My personal opinion said we aren't to blame, but I guess our president wants to improve relations through this military gesture" said another pilot.
"Ever considered being a politician, Graham? You talk too much"
"Sorry, sir. But you too have a big mouth, sir"
The lead pilot sighed. His wingmen were always very lively, especially the second pilot, Capt. Garrus Romez, and the trail, Lt. Helen Graham.
"Transmission from Command, sir. Message reads: 'Multiple satellites over Southern Hemisphere dropping from orbit. Three will hit Usea. Be advised, STN-09 will fire. 118th Wing, remain on present mission'. End of message" said another pilot.
"What satellite drop? SOLG can't do that. Why am I getting the feeling that it's the work of another super weapon?" Romez asked. "Should we get clarifi-"
"Alert!" transmitted the Yuktobanian AWACS Oka Nieba. "SOLG launched MIRV, repeat MIRV launched. Projected target is airspace 1-1-0. All Allied forces retreat from sector immediately."
"Colonel, that's this area, right?"
"Why? There's nothing in this sector. Romez, get them to confirm" said the flight lead.
"Oka Nieba. This is ISAF 118th Tactical Fighter Wing. Confirm MIRV target, over"
"118th Wing. Target confirmed. You are the only ones in that sector. Get out immediately. You have less than 6 minutes"
As the six planes reversed their direction, the pilots looked up. The sporadic clouds and reddish-orange color of the dusking sky made seeing the MIRV's reentry difficult. Suddenly a red beam of light sliced through the cloud cover. The ISAF pilots were almost entranced by the fan-like shape made by the beam's movements against the crimson background. After about 4 seconds, loud 'zooming' sounds followed. The pilots expected spectacular explosions to happen, but lack thereof made the ensuing silence appear unbearable.
"Oka Nieba. Confirm status on MIRV" Romez said.
"Standby . . . SOLG did launch first vehicle. Beam could have intercepted all of the warheads. Origin is 30 miles northeast of you. I couldn't ID the source, no radar contact. Be advised, several bogeys are on site"
"Roger. Out. What now, Colonel?" Romez asked.
"The Grey Men are desperate. They won't waste those shots for no reason. There must be something there they want destroyed, like whoever fired that beam." the Colonel paused. "Listen . . . We lost two good pilots in Operation Katina, Lieutenants Carter and Zhao. I made a bad decision. I won't forget them, their lives or my mistake. So if you are reluctant to follow, I will understand."
". . . I'm with you till the end, sir" Graham spoke first.
The other pilots agreed.
"Thank you"
"Alright, let's rumble, people! Mobius 2, engaging!" Romez said to which the rest followed.
The six grey Raptors performed an Immelmann turn in unison and disappeared behind the clouds.
A/N: Pity, Word's percentage function doesn't work on this site. I hope this chapter – FALKEN's sci-fi stuff – didn't turn anyone off.
To yellow 14: Yeah, Warsaw Pact and NATO. USSR's break up was on my mind at the time. Do you know how either Yuktobania or Osea was formed? Was it ever explained? (If anyone else knows, please feel free to respond.)
General MB: I was planning on such scene towards the end.
Amir: Yup.
Light of darkness: If by "dragging it on forever" you mean going many, many chapters, I won't. Coming up with material is hard. I have the utmost respect for authors who can write lengthy, but good stories.
