Derek Stiles yet again felt his breath hitch as the aircraft started its takeoff procedure, the acceleration forcing himself into his seat as he closed his eyes and tried to take his mind off the current events, and unconsciously he had fallen into a reviere with a faint smile
Caduceus had done it once again, and yet another looming crisis to the health of humanity had been averted thanks to everyone who had worked towards holding those responsible accountable for their actions. The unfortunate epilogues of some involved parties still stung Derek, for though he knew of their actions having terrible consequences for others, he could not help but regret that he couldn't have done more.
Adel had grown to become a dear friend of his and Angie's, yet Derek's actions could very well have led to his untimely death if it hadn't been for Dr Hoffman's intervention. Derek's inability to save him had also led him down the destructive path that ended with him assaulting Derek with the Artificial healing touch, in a prime position to end the prodigy's life right then and there. Thank goodness there had been enough time to stop him and remove the malignant Neo-guilt that had been eating away at his insides.
Heather and Emilio, Derek briefly smiled as he remembered the first time they had met, but immediately his heart fell as he remembered the desperation and emptiness that had set in during and following the events of that fateful operation.
Derek stopped himself from shedding a tear as he silently asked for forgiveness to Emilio for not doing enough
The rest of his colleagues understood that Derek really couldn't have done much more given the circumstances, and had repeatedly reminded him of that, and though it took him a while, he learned to forgive himself. He knew that looking forward and preventing a repeat of that situation would be the best way to honour Emilio's memory.
That didn't mean it ever stopped hurting though.
Derek was snapped out of his reverie as he felt the gaze of someone fall upon him.
Angela Blackwell Thompson had a concerned expression adorning her pretty features, but Derek dissuaded her worry with a faint smile.
As he observed the rest of the passengers prepare to tuck in for the night, Derek took a look at his wristwatch.
"We won't be landing for another…. 18 hours" .
Derek exhaled as his gaze drifted to the window that adorned the left side of the aircraft, the night sky melding with the darkness below to create a navy backdrop to the clouds, littered occasionally by the odd aircraft light flicker
"Whew, this is going to be a long trip."
A gentle voice replied, much to his surprise.
"Here's something to keep you occupied then, Doctor."
Angie Thompson quickly unlatched the small pastel blue personal briefcase she normally brought whenever she travelled, and rummaged for a while before picking up a small, rectangular envelope.
"A letter?"
Derek inquired, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly
Angie chuckled, before catching herself and replying
"Yes, it's from Heather… It was addressed to both of us"
"Really? Here, let me-"
Derek had nearly begun to outstretch his hand when he paused, before continuing,
"Oh, I forgot.. I get airsick if I read on a plane. Would you mind reading it?
Angie nodded, she began to open the envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter,
"Ok, let's see here…Dear Doctor Stiles and Ms. Thompson…"
Derek listened, closing his eyes, as Angie read out Heather's written note of thanks, and he felt a sense of peace wash over him.
"...Best wishes, Heather Ross."
"I'm glad to hear that. It sounds like she's finally been able to settle down." Derek commented with a genuine smile on his face.
Folding the letter and putting it back into the suitcase, Angie replied "I'm sure she'll do fine there."
"Yeah…"
Angie looked at Derek, and it was clear to her that he was deep in thought.
"Professor Irvine is a great cranial nerve surgeon, but he's also been known for his involvement in the development of new procedures."
He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
"If my training with him goes well, then maybe…"
"I know you can do it, Doctor."
Derek looked at her, startled by her confidence in that statement.
He loved that about her, but he pushed that thought away.
Angie continued "You're a one-of-a-kind surgeon who can pull off operations that no one else has ever attempted"
Derek couldn't help but feel flustered at the compliment, and subconsciously put his hand behind his head and scratched it,
"Haha, thanks…. I'll do my best, for Heather's sake."
Angie just looked at him, and now he felt even more embarrassed.
The uncomfortable silence created a palpable level of tension, with the two of them averting their gazes now.
Angie took a deep breath as quietly as she could, and mustering her courage, she finally broke the silence, looking at him and saying,
"Dr Stiles, you've always worked hard to make sure other people are happy…"
She paused, thinking carefully about how she wanted to word what she wanted to say.
"But… don't forget, you deserve a little piece of happiness too."
Derek looked at her, equal parts inquisitively and equal parts concerned, but Angie just playfully giggled as she continued.
"And I'll make sure the girl who's always at your side takes that advice too."
Derek didn't know what to make of what she had just said, nor did he understand why he felt his heart palpitate, his blood pressure rise and the intense burning he felt in his cheeks. He tried to formulate a response in the heat of the moment, but his mind was all fuzzy and disconnected. He steadied himself mentally, knowing this was a situation that was even more delicate than many of the operations he had undertaken before.
He knew that his relationship with his most trusted friend, assistant, and to him at the very least, the one he loved and cared for the most, was on the line.
"Angie…"
Angie was still looking at Derek, almost expectantly. Her quietness just amplified what seemed to be her yearning for an answer.
"Thank you."
Derek looked at Angie, prepared for the worst, but her expression was merely one of dissatisfaction.
An awkward air hung between the two for a while, the pair actively avoiding eye contact while idly fumbling about their belongings.
He knew he had messed up, but the inherent fear of making everything even worse somehow clung onto Derek, no matter how hard he tried to pry himself from its grasp.
Trying to get his mind off of the whole situation that lay before him, he felt his way around his bag, doing his damndest to find something he could peruse. Eventually though, he gave up and resorted to using the In-Flight entertainment screen, which although was quite limited, did happen to have an audio player.
Up ahead in the cockpit of the 777-200ER, the crew in the flight deck were busy checking on the navigational parameters they had set up, having gone into a zone of temporary radio silence.
The first officer for the leg took a look at the weather radar, and saw something that worried him ever so slightly.
"Uhh Captain Marshall, you might want to take a look at this."
A concerningly large and fast moving blob coming straight towards them. Given it's sheer size and girth it would be seemingly impossible to avoid without having to make a major adjustment to their current flight plan.
Granted, the two pilots knew that it would be only a case of discomfort for the passengers, but having a cloud group classified as Red on the weather radar that had not been given in the weather updates from the last tower handling them was moderately concerning.
"Let's just try to make our way through that small opening over there, should make it a tad bit more comfortable yeah"
The First Officer nodded in agreement, and proceeded to switch on the fasten seatbelt sign. He was about to continue the navigation preparations just as the aircraft went like what felt like a large speedbump, proceeding to shudder and lurch. The fly by wire system was doing its job mitigating the whole situation though, with the only noticeable things going off in the cockpit being the IAS number acting in a strange manner and the trim wheel going haywire keeping the aircraft level.
The captain took hold of his yoke in preparation to take over should the Autopilot disconnect, but both him and the officer looked in both fear and amazement at the flickering lights that seemed to dance on the cockpit windshield.
All of a sudden, it seemed as though the aircraft had been hit by a massive lightning strike at the nose, with the aircraft's digital screens going dark and the flood lighting flickering.
"What the hell was that"
The two men in the cockpit hadn't even noticed that the Flight crew for the second leg had opened the door to the cockpit.
The on-duty First Officer, almost reflexively, got to work with the procedures for restarting the aircraft's electronic instrumentation systems after the Captain had begun the verification of the various circuit breakers and switches to ensure that the aircraft's systems were all fully operational
"To be honest, no idea, but right now i think we have a bit of a bigger problem on our hands"
_
Derek lazily browsed through the offerings as an audible "ding" ran throughout the cockpit. He glanced up to see the seatbelt sign had turned on. The aircraft proceeded to lurch and shake a fair bit, though it seemed as though a fair majority of the other passengers were too busy sleeping or attending to their own affairs.
"Damn, turbulence again" He sighed, remembering the decidedly unpleasant experience he had the last time he and Angie had flown together on a commercial airline. Up until now he vividly remembered performing the operation on a patient's lungs, fighting against the progressively worsening turbulence to save the man from his worsening respiratory failure.
Suffice to say, he still wasn't a fan of flying.
Derek turned to his right and found himself face to face with Angie, who had also apparently noticed the seatbelt sign and had taken off her own Headphones with the intent of telling him. The two of them had briefly locked eyes before averting their gaze from one another, though the increasing intensity of the turbulence eventually prompted Derek to break the silence.
"The shaking's gotten an awful lot worse" he commented, looking at Angie for a response in a vague attempt at breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between the two co-workers.
Although significantly more muted, she gave him a slight smile and nodded her head in agreement.
"Hopefully it'll end soon, I don't think it could be that ba-"
The cabin went dark as all the lights simultaneously went out, the only light coming from the lightning that managed to creep through the few windows which still had their window shades retracted, the blue light seemingly bathing the cabin in an eerie blue light before disappearing.
Angie let out a small 'eep', Derek held his breath, and unconsciously the two of them found themselves holding each other's hands, though the roar of the storm around them seemingly reached a peak in terms of loudness and sheer ferocity.
Derek seriously hated flying.
South-West Of Selatapura
1350 Hours
"Strider 1 on station"
"Strider 2 on station"
The two matte grey aircraft emerged from the thick lower cloud layer, climbing up through 10,000 feet to begin another routine Combat Air Patrol Sortie.
Following the success of Operation Hush, a joint effort by Osea and Erusean forces had resulted in the establishment of a system that allowed the two militaries to share duties with one another, and thanks to the new Osean administration, a treaty of peace had finally been signed between the two nations, and in spite of the remaining tensions that had yet to dissipate in certain regions, the two years that had passed had given a somewhat rare peace, gracing the land and sea where many had lost lives and livelihoods.
The two pilots enjoyed the peacefulness of their surroundings, taking in the alluring blue tone it showcased in the midday light.. It had been an awfully long time since either one of the two of them could go up into the air with the peace of knowing that no hostiles lay before them.
The brief silence was interrupted by a soothing and deep voice that crackled to life through the radio, echoing within the cockpits of the F-22 and F-16. The two pilots smiled, recognising the voice of the AWACs operator that had stood by their side throughout their tenure in Strider and Cyclops Squadron.
"Good afternoon gentlemen,This is the OADF AWACs Long Caster, though you'd both probably know that, glad to see the two of you up and about again."
"Man it's good to hear that voice again, almost missed you Long Caster", Count spoke.
The AWACs chuckled, "Likewise Strider 2, enjoying the new airframe?"
Count sighed, although the F-16 Viper he was flying was indeed a very capable aircraft, he couldn't help but miss his trusty Charlie Eagle.
Still, he couldn't deny that the technological upgrades the Viper possessed over his old F-15C did appeal to him quite a bit.
The Osean Government, still reeling from the losses of many pilots and airframes, had originally elected to expedite their upgrading project for the majority of the Air and Maritime defence forces, which had the unfortunate side effect of the F-15Cs of Strider Squadron requisitioned into storage, with the intent to upgrade the two squadrons to F-15Es.
Unsurprisingly however, that wasn't quite as high on their list of priorities when compared to the colossal task that was rebuilding the bulk of their naval and air force, and while they hadn't quite called for Strider Squadron's F-15Cs to be put out of commission, Strider 2's Eagle was essentially written off thanks to the excursion of the flight lead and his wingman under Gunther Bay.
Although the ever venerable Avril Mead had somehow managed to repair the airframe to combat ready status, allowing the 3 other pilots in Strider about another year in the C-Eagle, the Osean Government however, had other ideas.
"-unfortunately, the bulk of the shipments for newer airframes have been directed to other airbases which have suffered more losses, unfortunately i'll have to ground your current aircraft Strider Squadron, bar Trigger's-"
"That's bullshit, they're still airworthy and fully capa-" Count retorted.
"Kindly refrain from interrupting me Second Lieutenant, especially since I'm not finished, yes, we all understand your airframes are considered combat capable and have spotless maintenance records, of course not including your little trip through the tunnels."
"Hey!"
"Moving on, Strider Squadron, You will all be assigned Block 70 Charlie F-16s, all of them are fitted with more advanced avionics than your previous aircraft, notably functionality with the SNIPER pod and the newer line of ASMs, but more importantly, AESA radar and AIM9X integration, the higher ups feel this should bring you all up to be on par with your flight lead's own airframe.
"Hey, didn't Trigger fly-"
"Your aircraft tail codes and schedule will be included in the briefing sheet I've provided, feel free to consult with Miss Mead for any queries on ordinance, Dismissed"
The small briefing room reverberated with the sounds of chairs being dragged as the men and woman moved to leave. Count flipped through his pages, pausing at the one involving scheduling
"Damn, our first CAP sortie in the airframe is in 2 weeks, that's barely any time to practice" he muttered under his breath
"I dunno, I might get used to this eventually, this JHMCS thing is pretty damned neat if i do say so myself" Count replied, a sly, almost goofy grin starting to form on his face as he looked around, his helmet projecting data onto his field of view.
Trigger, having listened in on the conversation up till now, piped up. "Hey, the Viper was one helluva plane when I flew one back in Mage."
Although that particular Viper was either destroyed or put into storage following the fiasco that was Operation Lighthouse Keeper, Trigger pushed that thought aside and reminisced on his happier memories flying as Mage 2 alongside Clown, his old flight lead when he was still a nugget. He did still wonder up till now about the fate of both Golem and Mage squadron's following his court martial, though he pushed that thought aside as well with a shake of his head, ending his brief reverie.
"Hey, If you liked it so much, maybe you could trade in that Raptor and fly one with me", Count replied, smiling.
"Alright that's enough banter from the both of you, Mission briefing dictates that today is going to be a routine CAP over Selatapura and Axel Bay, but I'm going to go off of an educated guess that the two of you've already run through it so i'll spare you boys the trouble of hearing it again."
"Much obliged Long Caster, Strider 1 requesting Picture and Azimuth to next waypoint", Trigger radioed in.
Although he was thankful that the conflict had finally come to an end, Trigger still hadn't gotten used to Mission briefings being so bare without any targets or hostiles coming into play,
"Strider 1, Picture Clear, bearing 210 for waypoint 12, hope you guys don't mind me keeping company for your little trip here." Long Caster replied, the sound of him putting down whatever food or drink he had in hand faintly audible to the two pilots.
As if he had read his flight lead's mind, Count radioed in to Trigger on their private Channel, one that had been established
"Man, it does feel kinda weird not having to stress over the very high chance that we could die at any moment huh?"
"I'd agree with you, but do you really want to go through the whole fight with the Bats again?" Trigger countered, though he couldn't help but smile in agreement with the sentiment.
"Hey, at least we got to see Huxian beat the shit outta that asshole Clemens at the end of it, kinda makes it worth it no?"
The two chuckled at the shared memory of the Brigadier General getting hauled out of the briefing room unconscious as they banked left, heading in the general direction of Tyler Island.
"Man these are some good cheese sticks", The AWACs Operator spoke, having taken a short break in between eating the now half empty bowl of deep-fried cheese sticks that adorned the side of his workstation.
The Pilot up in the front spoke up, "You really shouldn't be eating those all that much on these long flights, I can't imagine what you go through in the gents while we're on land"
"Captain Lim, I can comfortably say that I've been blessed with lactose tolerance and a very healthy appetite and metabolism." The man replied with a hearty laugh.
"Alright then, don't say i didn't warn you bud", The pilot said, though it's playful intent was clear. The Captain had been piloting the G550 AEW for well over a year now, and having been paired with the AWACs operator throughout the many operational deployments on the jet, and he knew the man would inevitably end up exhausting the entirety of the suitcase of food he had brought aboard by the end of the sortie.
Hell, the man busied himself by eating a burger after the successful completion of Operation Fisherman, and in THAT one they had just ended the threat of total annihilation posed upon the entirety of Oured by a crazed Erusean fanatic.
The AWACs Operator looked intently at his workstation's screen, watching the various tracks go about their merry way. Bar the Strider two-ship and the Erusean three-ship already on patrol, there were a few more supply laden C-17s making their way out of Selatapura Airport, sending out necessities to the various stricken regions Grabbing another cheese stick, he directed his focus to the two aircraft making their way to the seemingly desolate airspace of Tyler Island.
"Gotta say, this is a lot better than the last excursion we had going out here." He mumbled to himself as the G550 began to bank left to follow its assigned route for the day. The man continued to lay back in his seat, watching the blips progress slowly to their assigned CAP waypoint, when all of a sudden a third, unidentified blip appeared on his screen, seemingly coming even further Southwest from their current position.
"That can't possibly be right, there's no airfields out of that area for miles", the AWACs murmured, He took another look at his Charts, and the day's weather report had oddly enough indicated an even larger cumulonimbus layer developing in that region, having come in from the Spring Sea.
Although the very large majority of the communication network satellites were still non-functional, the Osean and Erusean governments had thankfully elected to prioritise restoring the weather monitoring network first, having already re-established rudimentary communication between the various governmental divisions.
He continued to watch the lone track for a few minutes as it progressively moved in the general direction of Tyler Island, desperately trying to make contact with it but to no avail. "This is really not good, Tyler Island is still under airspace restrictions" he murmured to himself as he tried changing frequencies yet again. The radar track indicated that it was a larger aircraft, either an Airliner or a Surveillance Aircraft.
"Hey Long Caster, do you have any information on that contact about 240 out from us?" Count radioed in.
"Negative, Strider 1 and 2, Contact status is unknown, clear for Intercept but do NOT engage until Visual is Confirmed, BRA, 237 for 220, 14500. Confirm Transponder Code to 7778."
"Roger, Strider 1 and 2 enroute for intercept", Trigger replied
The AWACs operator couldn't shake that feeling of worry as he saw the two aircraft bank right, on course with the Intercept vector he had assigned them to. Almost automatically, the man dipped his hand into his bowl of cheese sticks, but unfortunately, his efforts turned up naught. He had run out of cheese sticks.
With a resigned sigh, he turned back to his workstation's monitor and observed the two strider squadron's tracks progressively draw nearer to the unknown's own. Up till now he had been trying various frequencies to contact the unidentified aircraft, and with that coming up short, elected to remain on a frequency civilian traffic normally utilised in the hopes that it would increase his chances of making contact.
This truly could be anything at this point.
The Pilots on the 777-200ER had finally gotten everything within the cockpit back under control, and the piloting Captain had elected to climb to about 15000 feet to try and fly over the storm clouds. The other Captain had gone to join the cabin crew in trying to assuage the rising emotions of the many passengers onboard while the piloting and reserve First Officers were doing their best to contact any towers or nearby aircraft.
Captain Marshall was still concerned though, somehow the storm had caused the 777 to lose its connection to the GPS network, and consequently they had no way to determine if there were other airliners in the area. Thankfully however, the onboard weather radar had allowed them to navigate out of the worst of the storm.
"Should we change our transponder code to 7600?", the reserve first officer suggested
"Seems like the most logical course of action at the moment", the other first officer replied, moving to change their transponder's squawk code to the agreed upon number.
Captain Marshall, knowing that the aircraft was still very fully loaded with fuel, was aware that they still had a fair amount of flight time on their hands, but the loss of GPS meant that they had no way of resuming their flight plan. He was lost in thought as to how they could first and foremost, re-establish contact, the fact of the matter being that although all of their instrumentation seemed to be fully functional, there appeared to be no way to reliably navigate their way back to an airport
"Hey wait, look over there!" the reserve FO exclaimed.
The Captain, having his train of thought lost, looked over to see what the reserve first officer had been pointing at. The break in the cloud layer had revealed what appeared to be a relatively flat land mass, seemingly an island off to the right of their current bearing.
"Seems to be our safest bet to head there, we're going to have to follow VFR for the time being until we can establish contact with any ATC." The Captain said, though his brow remained furrowed. The piloting first officer continued trying to establish contact as the Captain disengaged the autopilot and began to gently put the aircraft into a right bank, descending through the break into the clouds.
As the aircraft descended through 13,000 feet, a very large structure, one that could best be described as a very large white ramp, seemed to loom off in the distance to the right of the island's coastline. The stunned pilots could only look to one another in confusion, as if non-verbally saying to one another, "where the hell are we?"
The shared moment of incredulous silence was interrupted by the sound of the radio onboard blaring a static laden message, snapping both First Officers to work,
The piloting FO stared intently at the frequency display as the reserve FO began to very very slowly and carefully twiddle the knob, trying his damndest to get onto the frequency that seemed to be active.
"Damn it, come on!"
As if on cue, the radio onboard blared to life, momentarily easing the heavy tension that seemed to almost drown the crew on the flight deck, though unfortunately, not for very long. The man on the frequency had a soothing and deep voice, with just the slightest hint of an American accent.
"Unidentified aircraft, This is Osean Air Defence Force AWACs Long Caster, you are currently entering restricted airspace, we have two aircraft inbound to your current location to escort you out."
The pilots, now including the reserve captain who had just entered the cockpit, all looked at one another in confusion trying to process the message that had just come through.
"Osean… Air Defence Force?" the reserve captain questioned, his brow furrowed.
"Just where in the hell are we?"
"Long Caster, Strider 2 confirming visual on the unknown aircraft, standby for identification", Count radioed in. The two-ship had finally come within visual range of the lonely shape in the distance, but not quite close enough to confirm its status.
"Roger that Strider 2, standby for further instructions, intercepted aircraft seems to have successfully made contact."
Trigger's personal radio once again came alive, the voice of Count once again popping up albeit in higher quality.
"So, What do you reckon it could be?"
Trigger strained his eyes trying to ascertain the nature of the intercepted aircraft, but all he could comfortably say was that it looked to be an aircraft that was large in nature, potentially an AWACs or an Airliner based on what he could tell.
"Looks like an airliner, you reckon you could put that Targeting Pod to use? Should be able to get a comfortable picture at this range." Trigger replied. Although his HMCS was now able to actively track the targeted aircraft, the lack of any radar emission led him to believe that it was probably not an AWACs.
"On it, gimme a sec"
In the cockpit of his F-16, Count immediately tried to get to work but realised that he still hadn't gotten the TPod's operation memorised. He never really had to use it while flying his Charlie Eagle, nor had he the time to practice using it before now since both himself and the rest of Strider Squadron were reliant on that sweet sweet information coming in via the Datalink.
"Uhh Trigger, you might need to walk me through it a bit"
Trigger sighed, it had been quite a while since he had flown the Viper.
"Right uhh, confirm that you have the TPOD powered on, it should be the switch labelled RIGHT HDPT, next to your FCR switch"
"Gotcha, looks like it's powered on."
"Alright good, now enable A/A mode on your ICP panel and use the Dogfight Override switch on your throttle, that should allow you to use the close range lock on"
"Done, aaaaand, done as well, thanks bud." Count replied, audibly relieved at not needing to figure out exactly what to do.
"Alright c'mon buddy, work with me here" Count whispered to himself as he manoeuvred the F-16's boresight symbol over the aircraft, and was rewarded by the F-16, which declared "LOCK" as the symbology on the HUD changed yet again to show a circle encompassing the large aircraft.
"Hell yeah! Got a lock"
Count changed his right MFD to the TPOD screen, only to be met by yet another submenu screen.
"Uhh Trigger, got another subme-"
"Make sure it's in Air to Air mode"
"Got it"
After a bit more navigation through the submenu, the MFD finally lit up and displayed the greyscale image of what looked to be a very large twin engined widebody.
Count, already being off to the right of the jet, banked right and climbed ever so slightly to increase the gap between himself and the jet and allow for the TPOD to get an even clearer view on the airliner.
"What the hell?"
"You got something Count?"
"Yeah, it's definitely an Airliner alright, looks like a 777"
"So what's wrong?"
"I don't recognise this airline."
"Count, do you know how much that narrows it down for either of us?" Trigger replied, almost sardonically.
The two aircraft made their way even closer to the large 777, the coastline of Tyler Island progressively growing nearer and nearer. The two pilots were now able to see the livery that adorned the Airliner. A strange golden emblem supplementing the navy blue tail, golden trim bordering the belly of the aircraft and a navy blue stripe that ran the length of the aircraft's windows, with the Airline name proudly stencilled over the stripe, and a Flag identical to the one identifying the aircraft's country of registration
"Singapore… Airlines?" Trigger asked, confused.
"What the hell? Definitely never heard of THAT airline, Trigger you got anything?"
Trigger drew alongside the port side of the airliner, the flag briefly coming into his view as he pulled up abreast of the Airliner's wing. His brain was trying to connect the dots, but anything that he could think of came up short. Even in school, he had never seen a country that used a flag where red and white were arranged parallel to one another in a horizontal manner, let alone one that had what appeared to have a crescent and a circle of stars on the red topped segment
"Not ringing any bells bud, I guess we'll need to wait for our 'guardian angel' of sorts," Trigger commented
The man in question did not disappoint with his timing.
"Trigger, Count, This is Long Caster, do NOT engage, Aircraft is confirmed to be non-hostile,origin is still unidentified as of now, standby for further instructions."
Down below, the construction workers hired by the Joint Osea-Erusean Coalition busying themselves with rebuilding Tyler Island were treated to the sight of a large behemoth of a white liveried, widebody twinjet being flanked by two Osean Fighter aircraft, the roar of the engines reverberating the usually still air of the island region.
It had been about 2 years now since the roar of jets just like the very ones soaring through the blue skies above served as mere participants in the cacophony of chaos that had befallen the island during those fateful hours following the communications blackout.
Many of the survivors would have remembered the sounds of ordinance going off, be it intentional or otherwise, as a squadron of 4 F-15C Eagles drove home either one of two very strong emotions.
Not to mention the unique markings of one of those fateful Eagles, the markings which adorned the tail of the F-22 flying above.
Though many of the people on the ground had lost their family members throughout the war, nothing quite brought in hope like the claw marks of the very pilot who had fought for their freedom through the anarchy that had broken out during the communications blackout.
"Are my eyes deceiving me?"
"That design on that aircraft's tail!"
"It's the pilot with Three Strikes!"
"He's a damn hero!"
"-This is Osean Air Defence Force AWACs Long Caster, you are currently entering restricted airspace, we have two aircraft inbound to your current location to escort you out."
The AWACs operator had been repeating the message on the civilian frequency for what felt like the thousandth time, and to him it appeared that this one would once again fall on deaf ears. The unidentified aircraft had changed its course by now, heading inland towards Tyler Island's northern coastline, and if it proceeded even further without identifying itself or making any changes in its trajectory, Long Caster would need to make a very tough decision.
"Hello? This is Sierra-Quebec-2518, Heavy. We've lost our GPS signal and don't have our Navigational aids, currently inbound to the nearest coastline, following VFR procedures. We are a Civilian Airliner operating under Sing-"
Long Caster breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the immense weight instantaneously lift from his shoulders with those few words. "Oh thank god, it's just a civvy.", he muttered to himself, finally leaning back in his chair and putting his hands on the back of his head, stretching his back while feeling very grateful for the way the situation had unfolded.
"Sierra-Quebec-2518, you have two OADF aircraft currently serving as escort on your port and starboard wings, please advise on your status." Long Caster asked through his mic, having regained his bearings.
The AWACs operator could briefly hear the pilots on the airliner mutter among themselves, before the radio went silent, signalling that the pilots had temporarily turned off their own radio output.
The silence seemed to go on for an uncomfortably long period of time, and Long Caster had already reached out to the radio button to readback his last message when the radio once again, lit up
"AWACs Aircraft Long Caster, this is Sierra-Quebec-2518, heavy, Fuel state is good but we'd like to request assistance for azimuth to the nearest major airport, GPS signal is still down and I think getting ourselves back on the ground would be in our best interest at the moment, are there any nearby major airports for a divert?"
"Standby Sierra-Quebec-2518, hold current altitude and heading"
Long Caster methodically swapped to the frequency for Selatapura airport, not having done so before.
Normally it was his pilot's job to communicate with ATC, all he was tasked with doing normally was to direct and liaise with the fighter pilots.
Noting that the escorted aircraft was already heading in the direction of the ISEV, he quickly ran through the various airports in the region and realised that the no-brainer option would've been Selatapura Airport. Notwithstanding its current operational status as a military airbase, the airport was, after all, designed to handle international flights.
He quickly verified that his frequency to contact Selatapura was correct as per the provided briefing sheet, and upon noticing he had put in 233.5 instead of the assigned 235.5, quickly made the correction on his end, and set up one of his radio channels to correlate with the frequency
"Sierra-Quebec-2518, maintain heading until advised, contact Selatapura Tower at 235.5 "
"Selatapura Tower, this is AWACs Operator Long Caster of the OADF, we have a Civilian Airliner inbound, about 170 nm out"
"Damn that's an interesting way to greet us here Long Caster, understood, are they on this frequency?"
As if on cue, the radio rang out with the voices of the civilian pilots.
"Selatapura Tower, this is Sierra-Quebec 2518, heavy, bearing 3-0-0 at FL 130"
"Sierra Quebec 2518, stay on this frequency until advised, adjust heading for 010 and climb to maintain FL 2-0-0"
"Heading 010, climbing 2-0-0, Sierra Quebec 2518"
With that, Long Caster took off his headset and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer fingers, resting his arm on his leg as he processed what had just happened. It probably didn't help that the airliner hadn't been recognised by the two pilots who were now escorting it back to Selatapura Airport.
On a positive note at the very least, the situation had predominantly been resolved, and Long Caster knew that he'd still have to continue his duty of assisting in the CAP flights around the area.
He put his headset back on and got to work.
"Strider 1 and 2, continue with escort and RTB on completion, i believe you'll be accordingly debriefed on the situation later on"
"Strider 2, Wilco."
"Strider 1, Wilco."
Long Caster took a brief, contemplative look at his empty bowl, eventually snapping back to the briefing on his tablet, after noting down the group holding out the rear of this CAP sortie and confirming they were on course, he radioed in.
"Sol Squadron, report in."