Chapter 13
Daedalus
4 years later
AC 431
Solana Communications Array, Aitor Desert
"Vanguard 1, this is Solana Control. You are cleared to land," the control tower said.
"Roger control," Katrina said, lining up for the approach. Beneath her, the vast communications array stood, its large bandwidth antennas pointing to the horizon. From this angle, the Solona Communications Array truly deserved its title "The Pillars of Communication," meant to serve as a router for long-range communication regardless of the rampant geothermal interference that traditionally plagued long-range communications.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the wheels of the F/S-15 hitting the pavement and the squeal of the breaks. Behind her, Peppermint and Twister touched down in perfect synch, their wings barely touching. Katrina taxied over to her parking space and shut her engines off.
As soon as she popped the canopy, the blinding desert light and heat slammed into her. Even though she had been stationed here for years following the end of the Oceanic War, she still wasn't used to the desert heat. A consequence of growing up in Cascadia, perhaps.
She wrenched her helmet off, and the sound of jet engines reached her ears. She glanced up to see 8 Sk.37s flying together in a tight formation.
"No one told me Aquila would be coming," Katrina said, as soon as she disembarked her fighter.
"Probably just as a reserve patrol squadron," Peppermint said, as the first Aquila fighter touched down on the runway. "Gives us a vote of confidence." He tapped her on the shoulder. "C'mon. Mckay probably knows what these guys are up to."
Katrina followed him into the blissful cool of the briefing room, where Commander Mckay waiting.
"Ah, Vanguard," he said, running a hand through his graying hair. He had considerably aged since Oceania. In terms of age, Katrina still looked young for a woman pushing 35.
The rest of the squadron wasn't that different: Twister still had his slicked-back hair and chiseled expression, and Peppermint still had his flamboyant colored hair through his shoulders were broader.
"You wanted to see us, sir?" Katrina asked, taking a seat, the rest of her squadron doing the same.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Mckay said, turning on the briefing software, which zoomed in on the Scarred Sea to reveal a complex and detailed industrial facility. "Vanguard, you have been called by High Command to escort prototypes of our next-generation fighter program to the Harkema Industrial Park for testing by Icarus Armories." A logo of the defense conglomerate appeared in the upper right corner. "A convoy of transports are departing tomorrow toward our coastal forward operations base, where the cargo will be transferred onto the cargo ship Meylinx and transferred to the area." A 3-D schematic of the Meylinx appeared on the screen.
"Sir, what kind of cargo would require the most elite squadron in the Federation to fly top cover?" Katrina asked.
Mckay flashed a smile. "I was getting to that," he said. He clicked his remote and a schematic of an unfamiliar aircraft appeared on the screen. It has a distinct sharp profile, having long swept-back wings. Two thrust-vectoring engines made up its power plant and finally, a long black bar was mounted on its centerline as it balanced on top of a stubby set of wheels. It made this aircraft look like a dog with a pair of stubby legs.
"May I introduce you to the SP-34R, or Spear," Mckay said, with a distinct tone of disgust that someone had to name this craft by using leetspeak. "The first-ever all-gun prototype. As you can see, there are no hardpoints on its wings to preserve aerodynamic stability, or should I say, instability, because of its quick recharging AOA Limiter." It was then Katrina noticed that the Spear had no missile hardpoints on its wings.
"What about the barcode beneath its centerline?" Peppermint asked.
"You are looking at the first-ever railgun mounted on an aircraft," Mckay said. "The AX-01 railgun, or the Arclight."
Katrina couldn't believe what she was hearing. A railgun mounted to an aircraft sounded almost science fiction to her.
"That's not all," Mckay said, clicking over to the next aircraft schematic. This one had an elongated fuselage with delta wings that had distinct kite-shaped wings, canards, no canopy, and slanted air intakes and outer canted tails, which suggested that this aircraft was optimized for high-performance.
"Might I introduce you to the X-PF," Mckay said, gesturing to the odd aircraft. "A unique multirole aircraft designed for high performance in almost any situation. Notice it doesn't have any weaponry showing. That's because it is tucked away in concealed weapon bays." An animation played, showing a slit along the aircraft's spine opening to reveal a burst missile launcher.
"Besides that," Mckay said, "the X-PF is armed with 2 standard missiles and twin autocannons, making for a fierce platform in every aspect. However, this pales in comparison to our final prototype." The slide changed, showing a more streamlined prototype of the 2 planes. Unlike the previous 2 aircraft, this one appeared to be a combination of the three, with twin burst missile launchers, a heavy cannon in place of an auto machine gun, and a pair of standard missiles. However, the engines weren't afterburners, ending in a pair of nozzles instead of the engine cowling.
"May I introduce the Project Wingman Mk. I," Commander Mckay said. "The culmination of our hard work. You may notice the oddly shaped engines, and that is because this fighter is powered by cordium."
"How is that possible?" Twister asked. Katrina had the same thought. How could a fighter be powered by the same substance that restarted humanity all those centuries ago?
"Well, here is the thing," Mckay said. "We had taken the cordium and shaped it into rods, and then we insert them into a reactor in the heart of the craft. To prevent a cordium explosion from happening along the way, which would be tragic, the craft is only going to be filled with coridum once it arrives at its destination." He paused for a moment. "That is all," he said. "The transports will be departing at 1700 hours, and we expect you to deliver these three prototypes safely to the industrial park for testing. To compensate for your absence from here, Aquila will be covering for you guys. Wheels up at 1645 hours. Dismissed."
Katrina silently nodded and glanced at the 3 superplanes, wondering if the Federation was making strides toward a greater future.
X
Hours later
"Vanguard, you are on station," Alamo said. "Contact with the transport squad in t-minus 10 seconds."
"Don't sweat it, Alamo," Katrina said, sighting the formation of C/T-17s and Accipiters on the horizon. "We see 'em."
"Ah, at last," a familiar voice said. "Finally, my true royal escort is here."
"Frost!" Twister said. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm the test pilot for these shiny toys," Frost said. "Who do you think is going to be the one? One of these merc jockeys?"
"Wait, mercs?" Katrina cried. "I thought we had purged the Mercenary Cabal after Oceania."
"Yeah, but some mercenaries were wise to turn the other way," Alamo said. "These folks are part of Conrad Security, a local PMC specializing in aerial ops. Squadron name: Pelican."
"This is Pelican 1, callsign Vulture," the lead pilot in the Accipiter said. "Glad to be flying with you, Vanguard."
"Yeah, right," Katrina said, her voice and senses on edge. "Just don't go shooting down our transports for a bonus on your paycheck."
"Heh," Vulture said, his voice not betraying anything roguish. "If we did try, you would have already blown us to shreds already. Plus, the Cabal was inefficient for us already, full of corruption and backstabbing fools."
"Fair point," Katrina said, scanning the formation. Oddly enough, there was a fourth C/T-17 that she had failed to notice.
"Why is there a fourth transport?" she said. "Additional supplies?"
"I doubt," Peppermint said. "It might be another prototype that Mckay failed to bring up? Hey Alamo, you know anything in that fourth sardine can?"
"Unfortunately, that is above my pay grade," Alamo said. "I tried accessing the records earlier and was locked out."
"So we are flying blind with no record," Katrina said, swinging by to check on the formation. "Great. Just the last thing we expected from High Command."
They took turns guarding the transports and scouting ahead for threats, though Alamo assured them that there were no threats, even with his eyes stretched for miles thanks to his radars.
Eventually, they made it to a forward operations base bordering the Scarred Sea. They settled down for lunch (Fish and Chips with a cup of fresh lemonade, the custom in this town), and then it was back in the air for the final part of the mission.
"Vanguard, this is the Meylinx," a voice joined them over the comm as they settled back into formation. "We are glad to have you guys as our air cover today." A moment of silence. "Oh, and also Conrad."
"Our pleasure," Peppermint said.
"Hey, did you intentionally forget about us?" Vulture said, annoyed.
"Relax, Vulture," Katrina said. "We would never forget you and your squadron."
"Heh. This guy reminds me of Meteor," Twister said, barely stifling a laugh. "Does he, Comet?"
"You're goddamn right," Katrina said, chucking to herself. Vulture chose not to retaliate, instead, he mumbled something to himself as he flew beside them.
They flew along in silence as the Meylinx silently cruised down below, as Alamo filled them in on useless trivia on the Scarred Sea. Only one point caught her attention, as the Scarred Sea was actually warm due to all of the latent cordium on the ocean floor. In fact, this place was one of the most dangerous places for divers because of all the thermal interference that built up as the distance to the bottom shrank.
However, as Alamo was approaching the lore behind the lore of the Harkema Industrial Park and the recent Scandal of '29 (Which Katrina had to unfortunately witness), he was interrupted by someone calling something out. Seconds later, he returned.
"ALCON, be advised. There is an unregistered ship in front of us, and they are not responding to any f our hails. I'm gonna force their hand." There was some frantic typing as Alamo attempted to open a frequency to the mysterious ship. Seconds later, a beeping noise on the intercom suggested that he was successful. "Alright, Meylinx. You handle this."
"This is the Federation cargo vessel Meylix tailing you unidentified vessel," the captain said. "To obscure this passage is treason against the Federation and is in violation of international law! Turn 180 degrees and leave this waterway. Thank you for your cooperation."
No response.
"I don't think they are interested in talking," Katrina said, eyeing something on the ship she immediately recognized as a 5-inch gun.
"Unidentified vessel, turn 180 degrees and exit the waterway," Alamo ordered. "This is your final warning, otherwise-"
He didn't finish, as the hidden ports on the ship were revealed to be 5-inch gun mounts swung forward to face the Meylinx and opened up with a salvo of five-inch shells. Some of them missed, but one struck the Meylinx and set the deck on fire. A split second later, Katrina's finger was on the trigger, launching a pair of missiles and a lot of bullets at the ship, causing it to go up in a massive explosion that split it in half.
"Meylinx! Respond!" Alamo cried. "Arrgh! Meylinx respond, dammit!"
A crackle of static, and the captain was back on the comms.
"This is the Meylix," a voice, thankfully, came from the other end.
"Oh, thank God," Alamo said, with a relieved sigh in his voice. "Anything damaged? Is the cargo safe?"
"The cargo is fine," the captain said. "We have suffered damage to the keel and our engines. Our speed is cut in half, so we'll need your full support."
"Yeah, they are going to need that," Alamo said, "because there are two more destroyers inbound. Vanguard, Pelican, engage."
Two radar blips on Katrina's HUD quickly became two more ships as she readied herself for an attack. As soon as tracers started spewing from one of the ships. She dove on it and launched a pair of standard missiles at it and circled back to put it out of its misery with a lot of bullets. Peppermint and Vulture took out the second ship with the same attack strategy, with Peppermint firing two missiles at it, and Vulture unleashing his URBMs at it. Before long, both ships were reduced to flaming husks and slipped to the bottom.
"Alamo here. All hostile vessels have been sun," the AWACS told them. "Meylinx, how are you holding up?"
"We got our engines repaired and are now back up to our optimal cruising speed," the captain said. "Send our thanks to Vanguard and Pelican up there."
"You got it," Alamo said. "Hear that? You guys are celebrities now."
"Don't sweat it, Alamo," Katrina said. "We were just doing our jobs up here." She banked her fighter above the Meylinx ad it plowed beneath them.
"Speaking of which," Twister said, "where did these ships come from? It's not like anyone can purchase a naval ship and raid a Federation supply convoy."
"I've combed through their records and these guys appeared to have come from another mercenary faction," Alamo said. "But, these guys were attached to the Cabal in Oceania at some point."
"Wait," Peppermint said. "I thought the Mercenary Cabal encompassed all of the mercenaries under one banner."
"True," Vulture said. "But the Cabal also makes the rules for which we mercenaries operate under."
"Huh. So there is more to you mercenaries than just shooting everything for a paycheck," Twister.
"Not that it matters," Vulture said, and Katrina was surprised how well he took the insult. "Mercenaries also have feuds every now and then with each other."
"Then why did you leave the Cabal?" Katrina asked.
"There was something more than shooting up everything for money to live off on," Vulture said. "We had a purpose. We wanted to soar through the skies and sustain ourselves other than serving the ambitions of a corrupt Cabal. We were not about to become tools of this corrupt organization. What about you?"
"I wanted to fly because of my dad," Katrina said. "Growing up, he being a pilot was inspiring to me. He also used to tell me stories about pilots in previous generations. We would also go out on little trips in his own private seaplane. There was something different about seeing the world from above. And when he signed me up for the Academy, he never felt more proud in his life." Saying this brought memories back: She crafting her first airplane model. Her dad at the stick in their BC-4S while the islands of the Caribbean floated lazily below them. Her dad telling her stories about a pilot known as the "Demon Lord of the Round Table," who fought for the Cascadians during the Long Night and conquered the battlefield in their name. Her dad watching her filling out her application form for the Academy. Graduation. She getting assigned to her first jet, her old Sk.27. A chuckle from Vulture brought her back, back to the present, back to the cockpit of her F/S-15 Agile Eagle she had got from a long-dead ace.
"Flying because of your old man, eh?" he said. "Now there's a pilot worth his wings."
They flew in silence for a few more minutes until the Harkema Industrial Park came into view. Several dots were hovering around the rig that were quickly identified as P-28 attack helicopters that belonged to the private military group. The Meylinx pulled up beside the rig and nestled into place beside the dock. Several cranes swung into place and began to unload the cargo, all the while Katrina and Pelican Squadron circled the rig.
"Vanguard, Pelican, the landing strip is open," the ATC said.
"Copy," Katrina said, circling back for the landing approach. Twister and Peppermint followed close behind. When her approach was lined up, she lowered her gear and eased her fighter onto the platform, with a satisfying squeal from the wheels and brakes.
X
"The cargo has been delivered safely thanks to your and the PMC's efforts," Commander Sato, the superintendent on the rig, said. Katrina shared a look with a squadron and shot them both a smile. "We can now begin testing the future of the Federation Air Force, and with that, I believe that you guys deserve some rest. Dismissed."