Chapter 5: The Ghost in the Machine(Part II)

Quara's admission to being a member of that hated squadron during the war had caught everyone off guard, even Claude.

"You...were a member of the Kaderas?"

"Kaderas? I've never heard of them."

Quara took a deep breath amid scrutinizing looks.

"Well, I was a pilot cadet about 10 years ago in Yuktobania. It is true that Osea gave us F-15. It was a sign of the alliance and it was also an experimental program. The top cadets were sent over for flight training on the F-15s. Three years of training followed. I became one of the wing commanders. That is until that car accident that put me out for 4 weeks. Then Valentin Horan and his wing man Alexei Vaati was promoted ahead of me one week before I got out, although they were younger than me by 3 years. Our commander was Lt Col. Fushida, a Belkan War veteran and a "firm but fair" attitude. During that time, I managed to gain dual citizenship...a difficult thing to get. I met my wife here as well. This period was what we called "Jubamarae"...the happy time. We were constantly splitting time between the two countries. We trained new pilots in new tactics, training, an more. Our training took place mostly in the Texas district in central Osea. We were trained by a former naval attack squadron turned aggressor/training squadron, nicknamed the Ghost Riders. We liked them so much we called ourselves Umbras Kaderas, or "Ghost Riders", loosely translated. In 2005, we returned home permanently, but I was allowed to keep my dual citizenship. We became the 107th Squadron based on Bouganville Island."

"So you were part of them...the ones who shot down all those pilots on the Kestrel!" said a visibly angry Snow. David's expression twisted a bit.

Quara's expression did not change.

"Yes. I was. We flew in defense of the island during the war. We knew nothing of the St. Hewlett attacks or the preparation. We were mostly kept in the dark. Then the war's among us. We were caught up in it and there was no way out. But we were professional aviators, what were going to do? Quit? Of course not. We went about our jobs as were trained. When the fighting started, there was no time to consider morality or what was really going on. We were told by our instructors in Osea to never hesitate once you've fixed the enemy. It's you or him. So frankly at the time, I didn't care to some extent."

"You...didn't...care? At all?" said Kei. "You don't care about those people? They meant nothing to you!"

"Correction. I said at the time. None of really did. We couldn't...in front of superiors. This was a savage life or death struggle Kei! In perfect conditions, we would have all been wiped out. They could have overrun us indefinitely. But it was because of our training we survived. We got used to combat. Day after day we went up...totally accepting of our fate, whatever it may be. But to say we had no feelings was not totally true. We did have a respect for the enemy. But that was when we were out of the plane. In the plane, we became detached from all the questions. Some of us had respect. There were the select few that...well, they wanted to kill every person on every last ship that was there. But at the time, they had pretty good reason to. There was Nadia, who flew in fourth position; Nadia was out for cold, hard revenge. It was ironic. Before the war, she was nice, amicable person. After the November 2nd incident, her blood always boiling with poison. She had good reason too. When we moved back, her family was living in Alt Alsce in the Dresdene...5 blocks away from that engineering college. Her entire family was over for a party; a stray bomb killed them all except her husband and a distant cousin, who's actually related to Alexei by some weird family tie. She was never the same since. She still hasn't completely recovered. She even tried to kill herself 3 weeks into the battle. Sad, isn't it?"

The looks of surprise turned to mixed looks of disgust and smpathy.

"But she still went up...even after that. We all the same objectives: fly, survive, get home...or what was left of it. Everything else was secondary. Everything."

Everything. Basic survival instinct invariably falls to the individuals. Groups of these are deadly in combat, David thought.

"Did you ever think those people had families, friends, lives they led!" Kei yelled at him.

There was a bit of silence.

"Did you?" Quara responded with a touch of sarcasm.

Kei realized what she was doing. She was too eager to crucify a man who seemingly opposed everything she believed in. People that enjoyed conflict. Yet, she too at times was caught up in the frenzy of conflict. I'm such a hypocrite. I guess that was the nice way of saying, shut the hell up.

"Did I feel bad about it? Of course I did when we learned what was really going on. I never enjoyed it. I hated it. But what were we going to do? Quit. No way. What kind of army would we have if we did that? So I came back here, feeling guilty all this time; even now."

"Why didn't you tell us this Quara?" asked Claude.

"I had no intention to. Everyday since it's been on my mind. If it were different, I may still feel like I do now." Quara replied.

There was a bit of silence. Snow's disgust at Quara slowly went away. Then the both of them did something that once again, was only thought to be in the movies. They shook hands. There were smiles from everyone.

"It is sad, really. What else could have been have done?" said Snow.

"You know, we always respected you guys. Really. But you know, the term 'Rat Pack', isn't really the right term. We love Osean jazz and big band classics, but the one thing we love most of all are Wild West films. Like I said, we did most of our training in the Texas district. We flew over the desert a lot. Our favorite thing to do was dogfight with guns. It was a "wild west show" and subsequently we gave ourselves western nicknames. I was Buffalo Bill, Valentin was Butch Cassidy, Yaj was Tuco, Alexei was Sundance Kid, and Nadia was Calamity Jane."

Everyone burst into laughter. "Now why didn't we think of that!" said David through laughter.

"Before every take off, we'd have our own briefing in the hangar. Our code words reflected where we trained. On a radio check, we'd call "Houston". We'd call instead of 'Sierra Hotel' we'd say 'Alamo!' or something like that. On contact with the enemy, we'd say 'Texas'. It was done for confusion purposes as well."

Quara and Snow seemed to go off into their own conversation as the night came upon the world. Soon they were talking if they were old friends. As everyone trickled out, Kei was obviously happy. We've come a long way. Two guys come in as total strangers and enemies and walk out as friends. That's the way the world should be.

July 28, 2011

Mallora Island

Life seemed to come together. Their friends would visit on the weekends, as David's job of flying mail to the mainland took up most of his week. On the weekends, he worked on a Messerschmitt and a F4U-Corsair he found in the depths of the scrap yard. Kei would help him paint it; in between the painting, there was the conversations they had about life, their interests, what they would name the baby, whether or not to paint the baby' room pink if it were a girl, what to nickname their planes, etc.

But there was far more to do and a long way to go...

To be continued...