Not much to say here. Waiting for Star Wars to be released, among other things. Anyway, sorry for the shortened chapter again, got to looking at the chapter and discovered it was too long so, having to split it again.
I have to think about adding Microsoft Office to my list...
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 23: Fallen Heroes
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Dieter adjusted the necktie on his class A dress uniform and then reluctantly placed a hand over the countless ribbons and medals he wore. He then reached around his neck to the more recent of the commendations, the so-called 'Vanquisher's Legion of Valorous Service' or 'VLVS' that Mechanos had created to honor the first squadron to lead a nuclear attack against an enemy nation. As his eyes fell upon the black and silver medallion with a blood ruby center that encircled his neck like a hangman's noose he felt an unshakable urge to rip the accursed thing off and throw it into a volcano somewhere. As he cazed into the mirror, he also saw the brightly polished Major's ensignias that now rested on his shoulder, a further 'honor' from Mechanos.
He and his squadron had recieved their medals upon returning to Rotiart the day after the nuclear attack on Lavonshire. His medal, however, was rated as '1st-Class' due to his engagement of enemy fighters over Gloster that protected the bomber. He considered the risks with removing the medal and casting it aside but then decided against it.
(If I must do what I have to do, to not wear the medal will only arouse suspicion. Especially with Marks and his accursed Butchers feeling slighted that this 'honor' went to us rather than to them...They'll likely be looking for an excuse to cause trouble.)
Still, tying the medal around his neck made him feel dirtied. It was as if he truly was placing his own noose around his neck, preparing for the drop that would send his stained and bloodied soul straight to the Abyss and the eternal torment that doubtlessly awaited him. Wolff had also recieved one, a saphire embedded '3rd-Class' honor, and had nearly chunked it and the box it came in into the fireplace in his quarters.
Only Voss, as persuasive as he was, could talk him out of it, and that was stretching it.
'It is only because that I trust you and your plan Dieter that I don't rid myself of this object of damnation. Just handling it makes me feel the Fires of Judgement burning my soul. I would hazzard that any recieving this 'honor' would be in for such a fate if they went along with these mad schemes willingly.'
Voss and Jyne had recieved their's as well, each an emerald-clad '2nd-class'. When Werner, their griffon mascot, looked at the medal, he had murmured something in griffon that made Voss pale. He then explained that he saw a 'blood haze' covering the medals. It was as if the medals themselves were forged in radioactive flames and quenched in the blood of those they had unknowingly killed in the attack.
He shook the feelings off for a moment and straightened the medals he had earned before Mechanos came to power and then straightened himself up.
(There will be time to mourn and to rid ourselves of these medals once we are free and clear. Until then, come hell or high water, we must go along with the plan.)
Still, despite going over the plan time and again in his head, he found himself looking at the clock on the mantle and then reviewing the plan.
At 11:25, Mechanos would arrive in the courtyard of the ancient Imperial Palace that stood overlooking the Western Sea. Five minutes later, he would begin his speech which was slated to last until 12:30.
At 12:35, Mechanos would take lunch with the members of 215 Squadron and with various 'heroes' and VIPs.
The Resistance had planned for Mechanos to be killed in one of two ways, or both depending. The first was that the waiter, who was a member of the Resistance, would slip a poison into Mechanos' drink or poison his food as it was being prepared. Secondly, one of the heroes, a soldier who had been grievously injured in combat, Dieter couldn't remember his name, had a briefcase and would be travelling with Mechanos to the briefing later on.
In that briefcase was a bomb that would be armed when the soldier put in a certain combination to unlock it. Depending on how valuable or how at ease Mechanos was, he may ask the soldier for the papers while they had lunch in which case the soldier would arm the case, remove the papers and present them to Mechanos, after which he would excuse himself for some reason or another and then make his escape. If Mechanos didn't wish to speak tactics and battleplans at lunch, then the soldier would wait until they were at the briefing location and then arm the bomb and escape.
At 13:00 (1:00), Mechanos would deliver his farewell address and then depart for Fort Exile by means of a TR-1611 heavy transport. He would be escorted by Marks and his Squadron, the 666th Aerial Assault Wing, the so-called 'Butchers of Chamberlain'.
Dieter frowned as he recalled the horror stories he had heard about Marks' force. 'A wing dedicated to the complete and total annihalation of the enemy force' is what they were known as and what the papers in both Tellanos and Rotiart had called them.
During the Battle of Retorinc and later at Chamberlain, the 666th had led countless attacks against the enemy forces smashing them time and again. They did everything from dropping bombs point blank at enemy formations to launching rockets at field hospitals and strafing the wounded as they fled the field. Their planes, modified version of the JFI-1 known as JFI-1hk (hunter-killer) that were built soley to kill and maim all who went against them.
To Dieter, each and every one of that wing were monsters and murderers of the worst sort and the planes little more than abominations; spawned by the mad, if not outright insane, mind of Otto Mechanos.
If all went as planned then by 14:20 (2:20), Mechanos would be dead, the Resistance leaders would be in control and could order a cease-fire and even perhaps a truce. Rotiart would have to make substancial reparations but it was a small price to pay to retain their national individuality and their freedom. He gazed at the flag of Rotiart and with his mind's eye saw it morph and take shape as the flag of Syllia. Then as Tellanos. Then as Praetoria.
Of all these outcomes, Syllia would likely be the best choice because it had been the least wronged and, by all reports, the least likely to attempt to absorb Rotiart as a territory.
All of this however, could end if the people were in their right places at the right times and everything went off without a hitch or any other problem. As Jyne came into his quarters with a wild expression and holding a newspaper in his hand, Dieter had a sinking feeling that things would go downhill fast.
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(Launces)
George sat in the foyer of the castle with his brother, Bertram. Both were slackjawed and silent as they watched the reel of the coronation take place. With them was Bertram's wing of course, as well as the castle staff and the members of the castle guard. No doubt the cinema in the city was showing the exact same thing they were watching right now.
No matter how many times he could watch the reel, he still couldn't believe that his parents were now the King and Queen of Syllia. A fact that was not lost on him as the commanders of the Launces regiments made a point of coming by and reporting to both he and his brother.
George was the eldest brother so that made him the Crown Prince, as it were, and his other siblings as well. With his career in the Army in doubt, no one could blame him for taking a medical discharge and then assuming a permanant leadership of Launces since it was now obvious that his Father and Mother would not be returning.
No one except for himself, that is.
His hearing was still weak but he could hear well enough to carry on a conversation and speak to everyone around him. His nurse, Angela, had been a godsend. Not only had she been a wonderful person to talk to, he had learned that she had graduated from the university not only with degrees for medical field but also she was listed and registered as a Class B Orchestra Composer. This meant that, when not asking about his health, she was able to work with him to further his hearing and his music.
As the oldest of three brothers, when Josh had taken up art as his choice of culture and Bertram had taken literature, George had chosen music and was already an accomplished composer. Most of his work was registered as Class B masterworks yet there were some that were Class A. One of his best works, 'Midnight Symphony Number XXVIII', was openly compared to Adagio Correlli's '3rd Winter Concerto' which was one of the best examples of classical music in the nation.
Lately in his free time he'd been working on a new piece, one that he'd been forced to delay, and delay, and delay time and again. He'd started it when he was a Senior in school and then pushed it back to work on the Midnight Symphonies in university, then pushed it back indefinately while on active duty and at the command of the military. While recovering, he and Angela had advanced it somewhat but it still sounded raw and unfinished to his ears.
As the reel ended and the staff and soldiers with them let out cheers and congratulations to both George and his brother, a messenger opened the doors to the castle and came running in and presented a letter to George. George read over it slowly and then passed it along to Bertram who also read the missive.
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SIGNAL D1-242: ROYALIS HIGH COMMAND TO LAUNCES: URGENT.
ACTIVATION ALERT ISSUED. THREAT LEVEL RED.
ALL FORCES IN LAUNCES ARE TO IMMEDIATELY BEGIN COMBAT PATROLS ALONG THE MAIN ROADS FROM LAUNCES TO CALLEN'S HILL.
LAUNCES 1ST AIR WING GROUPS B, C AND D ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO BEGIN AERIAL SWEEPS OF THE SAME PATH. UNITS ON STANDBY ARE THE GYLADON 2ND AIR WING AND THE PENINSULA CITY 3RD AIR WING.
ALL BOMBERS AT LAUNCES, GYLADON, AND PENINSULA CITY WILL BEGIN BOMBING RAIDS OF ROTIART POSITIONS IN OCCUPIED TELLANIAN TERRITORY.
FURTHERMORE, 1ST AIR WING GROUP A IS TO REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO LAUNCES WORKSHOP ONE BY ORDER OF KING JAMES.
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Bertram looked to his brother to see if he had any idea as to what was happening. Workshop One and its predecessor, Workshop Zero, weren't exactly common knowledge but what was known was that the only entrance to Workshop One was through the central elevator and using a special key to unlock the lower levels. George then remembered something that had arrived earlier that morning and asked for an envelope to be brought from his room.
The servant returned quickly and then George opened the box and out fell two keys: a small key and a much larger one. The two brothers exchanged a glance and then both rushed tp the elevator in the next room. George gazed at the mechanism.
"Let's see...first, insert the key and turn counter-clockwise to unlock the cover." The lock holding the cover over the keyhole clicked and sprang up as the key was removed, revealing the keyhole underneath. Then George placed the larger key into the keyhole.
This larger key was unique in that if it ever broke or went missing, no one except their Father or the famous locksmith Edward Tallmage could reproduce the key or pick the lock. The key was the length of George's hand and had three sections to it. The first section of four 'teeth' faced downwards like a regular key. The next section had five teeth that were on the opposite side. The last section had four teeth that came off the left side.
George remembering his Mother telling him once that one thing that James insisted when Tallmage designed this lock was that it had to be complex enough to foil most intruders yet simple enough that, in the event of untimely death, any one of his blood could open it. Naturally, being three-quarters dragon gave him and his brothers a knack for solving puzzles.
(Plus George had been down in the workshop before so he knew how to unlock the elevator.)
"Insert the key's first section...turn clockwise until the second section is facing down...push the second section in...rotate counter-clockwise until third section is down...push in third section...turn key completely around clockwise."
There was a loud 'bang!' that echoed through the elevator as the lock was released and the elevator began to lower automatically down to the lowest level of the castle.
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(Shadowfell, Rotiart)
Dieter and his group were on the podium and stood and saluted the national flag as the massive five-hundred piece band and orchestra performed the National Anthem. His eyes glanced momentarily from the flags waving around the entire pavillion to the crowd gathered before them. There was easily several thousand people here and Dieter wondered how many of them were collaborators or Resistance members, how many were truly loyal to Mechanos' ideals or how many were only going along with him blindly because he was their nation's leader.
He even wondered bow many of them managed to smuggle weapons past the security and would try to take matters into their own hands.
Judging by the reaction of the crowd as Mechanos entered, the chances that there was anybody who would lash out with a revolver or some small, easily concealed weapon and take pot-shots at Mechanos was not very likely. The chances of a Resistance member being among them was also not bloody likely.
The crowd roared and cheered as Mechanos rose to the podium and then silenced the cheering crowd by raising both hands. As the last cheer died down, he lowered his hands and then shuffled some papers before him. Then he looked up, face and eyes full of life and smiled.
"My dear people! Citizens of our beloved homeland, Rotiart! Today is a day of utter joy, for today we celebrate the strike our intrepid Aerial Assault Force made against our long-standing enemy, the so-called 'Invincible' Praetorian Empire!"
There were cheers from the crowd as he spoke and he nodded and smiled in the direction of the cheering and then continued.
"As many of you know, a few days ago, I ordered a prototype test flight of several new aircraft and weapons that I now have the pleasure of stating that such aircraft, if not the weapons they carry, will now become the primary aircraft for all of Rotiart's immense aeiral might! The brave pilots who flew those aircraft, just as those brave few volunteers who first founded the Rotiart Aerial Corps some twenty years ago, are now proclaimed to be, from this day forward, heroes of the Rotarian People and Nation!" He paused and allowed people to begin cheering loudly. As a favor to the families of the pilots and 'heroes', Mechanos had had their families rushed out here and given front row seats top the speech so that they could see their loved ones in their moments of glory.
Scanning the group, he caught a glimpse of Jyne's brothers and sisters, Voss' parents and sister, Wolff's parents were nearby as well but they seemed less enthused by their son's 'heroics' than even he was. Lastly, there was a sight that made Dieter's breath catch.
There, sitting on the front row, dead center of the crowd, was his ex-wife and children, all grown up and gazing at him with expressions he could not place. Pride? Regret? Sorrow? Anger?
Perhaps a mix of all these things...
The last time he'd seen his wife, she'd stormed out of their home with their young son and daughter in tow telling him to 'go dance with his angels'. He'd been a fighter pilot for so long he'd forgotten that, like any man, he led two lives. The one in the sky, and the one on the ground.
Like any fool starstruck with aerial flight, he had regrettably neglected his family in exchance for his squadron, his career, and his plane.
Now he sat here, next to the leader of his nation, a high ranking officer, a respectable command. The life he had promised his wife when they married.
And in a few short hours, depending on what happened, he would either have a chance at redemption, or he'd have to throw away all he had acomplished.
Dieter had been so engrossed that he hadn't even heard Mechanos call his name to stand and was nudged by Jyne. He quickly gathered his senses and stood, much to the cheers of the crowd, yet the people he looked at, his ex-wife and children, remained silent. He walked towards Mechanos, a fake smile plastered on his face as he shook his hand and then stood at attention while Mechanos pinned a third Onyx Star to his chest and then bent his head low to, officially, recieve the VLVS, as well as another medal which was a shock to both him and to everyone in the crowd.
Mechanos produced a new medal from an ornate red laquered box. This medal, unlike the VLVS which hung from a black ribbon, swung from a white ribbon. A shield, cast in gold, with two griffons, two lances, and the words 'Glory, Grace, Honor' etched into the gold.
The crowd gasped and Dieter paled as mechanos slipped the Imperial Aegis around his neck and then patted his shoulder for the que to straighten.
This medal was a relic of the ancient Rotarian Empire. A medal bestowed only to those who had distinguished themselves in battle with an overwhelming foe. An honor that was supposed to only be bestowed upon a soldier by the Emperor and usually came with an appointment to either a noble class rank or a Field Marshal or Lord General's rank and posting.
As Dieter took his seat he found himself unable to steady his breath as he gazed at the silver and white medal that lay over the VLVS. A medal that symbolized everything that Dieter loved about his homeland hanging over a medal that symbolized everything he had come to despise. It was then that the fanfare began and Dieter saw Mechanos straighten up and smile broadly.
"It is time, my fellow citizens, my people. That we shed our past of our defeat and our failures, and rise up to a new destiny, a new and glorius future. For with these heroes beside me and other such brave men and women as I know you all to be, we shall bring forth a new era! We shall restore the glory of the old Empire of Rotiart! An Empire that shall last until the end of time. We shall be the masters of all we survey and no one shall stop us! Tellanos has been swept aside as dust before the wind! Syllia shall crack and crumble under the burden that its own economy places upon it! Espan and Anozira shall wither and die and even Praetoria will tremble with such force it shall utterly destroy itself!" The people broke free from their stunned silence and began cheering as the old Imperial Anthem echoed in the space.
"I, Lord Otto Mechanos, do hereby announce the rebirth or the Glorious Rotarian Empire! And with Tellanos as our staging ground, we shall launch wave after crippling wave against Syllia, Schildhaven, and even Nevora until they are vanquished and our banner flies above all others!" The cheering got even louder.
"My people, it is however, customary for an Empire to have an Emperor. I hereby ask, that in light of all that has transpired, that the people bestow the mantle, and name, of Emperor, to me."
The crowd grew silent as these words echoed and faded. For a moment, Dieter wondered if they would rise up here and now to rebel as it was common knowledge that self-appointed rulers almost never had the best interests of the people in mind.
In Rotiart however, it seemed that Mechanos, however crazy he may be, could do no wrong.
A lone voice from the back of the crowd began clapping and a lone voice broke the silence.
"Long live the Empire! Long Live Emperor Mechanos!"
"Long Live the Emperor!"
"Long Live the Emperor!"
"Long Live the Emperor!"
The chanting was loud and overwhelming. Dieter found himself worrying and looked at his watch. He eyed the officer next to him and explained the need to relieve himself. The officer snorted disdainfully but made no effort to stop him as he rose and then stepped off the stage and vanished.
Behind the stage, Dieter met the man who was their contact with the resitance, a man named Raymond, who looked fairly distressed. He looked at him with an expression that made Dieter's heart sink.
"Major...I am sorry, but the Resistance leaders have called off the attempt." This caught Dieter by surprise and he hurried him into the nearby restroom. Once inside, he locked the door and barely, just barely, kept his voice down.
"What the bloody hell do you mean by the 'called it off'? What about the thrice damned plan?! The 'betterment of Rotiart'?! Saving our people and our Homeland from a fate worse than death?!" The man shook his head.
"I got the call not ten seconds ago. Mechanos has now made himsefl such a figure that if we were to assassinate him now, we would never be able to take control of the country. There would be chaos, riots in the streets, every general officer with an ounce of power will be vying for control of the nation. It would be nothing short of complete anarchy and civil war should we do this now! Not to mention we so-called 'patriots' would be hung from lamposts or placed before firing squads for our actions just so some one or two star can earn some brownie points with the people for bringing the murderers of the 'Great Leader' to 'justice'."
"What about our deal?!" The man shook his head.
"Sorry Major. I know we discussed getting you and your wing out of Rotiart but I'm afraid that is just not possible. You and your group are now 'Heroes of the Nation'. Your faces are being plastered over every newspaper front page, store window, and advertisement in the nation. Hell, you yourself already have five or six buisnesses that claim that you never go anywhere without you favorite pair of name-brand shirts, socks, and underwear. Their brand of course." Dieter shook his head and turned and, in a moment of weakness, punched the mirror to his immediate right which shattered into hundreds of pieces, some of which cut his hand.
Dieter eyed his wounded hand with some regret and then thought of something.
"I don't need you to smuggle me out by land. Mechanos is likely still planning those bombing runs. I'll simply steal my own plane and fly to Syllia." The man looked at Dieter and sighed.
"With that injury you just dealt yourself? You wouldn't be able to fly a straight line much less fight if you were discovered."
"That's why there's going to be a distraction. Does our friend still have his briefcase?"
"No, he removed the papers and transferred them to a clean case. I have the bomb here. Why?"
"I think the people are growing tired of hearing Mechanos' voice. He's made his point, now it's time to put soem fear into him. Now that he's announced himself Emperor, he's sure to have someone going to incite his advanced age as a reason for a...sudden departure from the plane of existance."
"You're going to blow yourself up with him?"
"Blow myself up? No! Especially not with my ex and my kids in the front seats. No. I'm speaking of a diversion. Simply get this bomb to a secluded location and set it off. The guards will rush and spirit Mechanos to safety, he'll undoubtably think it was an assassination attempt by one of his less loyal officers or by spies and assassins and launch a retaliatory strike against Syllia. My squadron will volunteer to escort the bomber and when we near the target we will shoot the bomber down and then fly to Launces and surrender."
"Major. You're crazy." Dieter chuckled and then turned to leave.
"That's why my wife married me, and also why she left me. Now hit me."
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(Moments later)
Dieter stumbled from the restroom and then saw a soldier nearby. He approached and yelled for him as loud as he could (which considering the crowd cheering outside he had to yell much louder than he thought to be heard). Nevertheless he got the soldier's attention and, once he saw Dieter's black eye and busted hand, he paled and rushed to him.
"Major! What happened to you?!" Dieter coughed crossly and then struggled to straighten himself.
"Never mind me! See to Lord, er, Emperor Mechanos! There is an assassin in the building! I caught him trying to place a bomb near a support which would have brought the whole wall down on Mechanos' head! He fled but not before I got a few punches in! He still had the bomb but I don't know where he went." The soldier nodded and the rushed to his superior who was on the stage. The officer looked to Dieter, paled, and then started shouting alarm.
Dieter was suddenly thrown off his feet by an earth shaking explosion that rattled his teeth as well as everything else in the hallway. The crowds cheers turned to screams as the people bolted for the nearest exits. Moments later, more explosions and Dieter realized that the Resistance must have had some explosives left over. Either that or they just had a bunch of pyromaniacs employed who hadn't blown something up in a while.
As he rushed back to the stage, he found the members of his squadron who, after getting over their shock at his appearance, followed him willingly to the airfield.
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(Workshop One, Under Castle Launces)
The elevator descended down into the depths of the castle. What annoyed Bertram the most was not the creaking and groaning of the metal elevator, it was that it took so blasted long to reach the lower level where the main door to the workshop was. Now Bertram knew his Father hadn't gone off to work at the other workshop or even went to Royalis without someone to watch over the place and the sounds of machinery coming from behind the door seemed to prove that.
As the door swung open, sounds grew louder and Bertram glanced around and saw several machines hidden under covers that obscured their profiles yet he could tell they were aircraft of a sort. As he walked forward and tried to peek under the cover, he heard someone clear their throat.
Bertram turned on a dime, as did the others, and they all came face to face with James de Launces, no longer wearing ornate clothing but rather his old working clothes.
What's more, he was smiling.
James approached and embraced his each of his sons before turning away.
"George, Bertram, it's so good to see the two of you again. Your Mother had hoped to come with me as I put the finishing touches on a few new machines I've built but alas, her new role as Queen has her quite busy. Er...that is to say that I'm not kept busy but still, there are some things that can wait and there are those that cannot. This is one of the cannots."
James walked to a table that held the blueprint of an aircraft on it and motioned Bertram over.
"The Praetorian Aerial Guard at Gloster send me these renderings per my request. Apparently, these are the aircraft that the Gladiator Squadron fought over Gloster. Intel from the pilots say that these aircraft carry a moderate armament, have the capacity for incredible speed and maneuverability, and in the right hands, can make the difference."
Bertram looked over the rendering and then eyed the aircraft's points of interest.
"Father...where's the propellor?" James chuckled.
"There isn't one. See this huge thing on the back of the craft? That's the engine. I've been experimenting with jet propulsion before but never developed anything solid. Up till now, my blueprints had to stay on paper instead of being molded into being. That changed with the attack on Lavonshire."
James unrolled a new type of blueprint across the table and then nodded.
"This is the blueprint for the original: Project 262. Unfortunately, that particular design had to be scrapped due to materials needed for construction are currently in Tellanos. So, I had to improvise and take some keys where I could. I combined the best features of 262 with some of Praetoria's new 'Meteor' Project and created a whole new aircraft capable of matching this new threat."
A new blueprint was layed before them and James motioned for the entire group forward.
"According to reports, the Rotiart jets flew close to five-hundred miles per hour. First versions of the new design were just breaking the four-hundred mark so I had to redesign the engines. In conjunction with that I also redesigned the armament and found an interesting bit of information. The A205s over Gloster managed to shoot down one of the enemy planes and found an interesting fact. It was made of wood, reinforced with a thin layer of aluminum inside and out. In short, while you may not be able to our run the little buggers, if you can draw a bead on them and fire, you'll bring them down."
Bertram waited until James was finished before tapping his shoulder to get his attention.
"Father, was there a reason you asked my group down here?" James sighed but then nodded.
"You seem to have lost your patience. Then again, you do take after your Mother in that regard. Very well. What I called you down here for was to show you your new aircraft."
James motioned for the workers who pulled the covers off the aircraft. The aircraft revealed were blue with silver wings and tail. The squadron designation was clear on the aircraft as was the Syllian markings. Looking at the nose, Bertram saw, instead of a single engine, there were two engines housed in the wing roots and the nose was a solid nose out of which three 30mm cannons and six 20mm cannons protruded.
"The aircraft is known as the J33-A1 'Comet'. The engines are specially built prototypes capable of accelerating the aircraft to just under the five-hundred mile per hour mark. The A1 is built to be a pure-bred interceptor and fighter. However, if you feel the need to, I can have bomb and rocket racks installed under the wings. The rest of the wing will soon be the first all-jet air wing of the Royal Air Force. I...uh...just need to finish up the finishing touches on the other designs first." Bertram eyed the new aircraft then turned to his Father.
"Dad...thanks." James nodded.
"You are my son. Remember that there is nothing a parent won't do for their child. If that means build a bigger and faster aircraft than the enemy then so be it. Or in George's case, build a bigger tank. Bertram...Reyson told me...about you and Flaire." Bertram went wide-eyed and then turned away, clearly embarrassed. James however, chuckled.
"No need to be flustered. It wasn't so long ago that your Mother and I fell in love and from there on you, Josh, Goerge, Thera...all of you were born and I have never regretted a day of my life since. You nearly drove me batty a few times when you all were little but that's to be expected. Just promise me one thing. Take care up there. You said once you'd like to earn an officer's commission so that you could fly prototype aircraft? Well, that's exactly what this is. These ten jets are the only ones in existance. This is going to be their first time going into a real battle. The design is priven but untested. You and your group will be the first active duty wing assigned to these aircraft. As your Father, I would hate to tell both your Mother and your Girlfriend that you were killed flying one of my prototypes. King of Syllia I may be, but I'm not crazy enough to anger two female dragons."
The group laughed at that as James began walking the group through the controls of the new aircraft.
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(Shadowfell Airfield)
Dieter took a moment to ensure that everything he meant to take with him was on his person. The small briefcase held only what he deemed important. His medals and Class A uniform, his photos from home, and, hidden in the liner of the case, several copies of battleplans, flight tactics, indentification numbers, callsigns, squadron and wing assignments, as well as some carefully attained blueprint copies of the new jet aircraft.
He found himself clutching the medallion that Wolff had given him when they'd last discussed their plan. Despite himself, he found himself silently praying that the whole squadron would succeed in this endeavor. He sighed with relief when the rest of his squadron showed up at the hanger, their cases likewise packed and their expressions set. Jyne came forward and saluted him.
"Major. We are ready to depart at your order." Dieter nodded then removed a flight list from his coat pocket.
"Gentlemen, our worst fear has been realized. Mechanos has ordered another Ragnarok Strike. Now, our orders are to remain on the ground until further notice or until the 'assassin' from this morning is caught. Once we begin take-off procedures, likely they will radio ahead that they have unauthorized take-offs from the airfield and will send up an intercept force. That most likely means the 666th. I wounld normally ask if any of you have second thoughts about this, however, given Mechanos tendency to have traitors or their associates interrogated rather...strenuously, I'm afraid we can't have any back-outs now."
The men looked around to each other and nodded in unison. It was no secret that Mechanos had always sanctioned torture if he believed there was something of value to gain. A small peep however, got their attention and they wheeled around to see a small shape coming towards them. Voss had halfway drawn his pistol when he recognized the shape and motioned for the others to wait.
"Werner! Wh-What are you doing here? You're supposed to be asleep." The little griffon looked at him and murred. Voss sighed and then began petting the griffon.
"Sir...Werner wants to...he wants to leave with us. If we leave and he remains he will only have the rude dread griffons and the base cook to speak with. He...He sees us as family sir...surely I can fit him into my plane and-" Dieter held up a hand to stay the words.
Werner's appearance had complicated matters but not overly doomed them. Voss just wouyldn't be able to use the JFI-1. As the old saying goes, there was more than one way to skin a cat. He looked around the hanger and his eyes settled on the aircraft he had previously meant to shoot down: the JB-2 Jet Bomber.
"Voss, didn't you get a manual on how to fly the JB-2?" Voss thought for a moment and then nodded.
"Why ask sir? You don't mean that I'm-" Dieter nodded.
"Yep. You want to take Werner with us? You're going to have to abandon the JFI-1 and fly the JB-2. It's got two seats and is meant to be flown by two people but I think one man should handle it. Especially since you don't have any bombs to worry about. They won't arm the bomber until it is time to take-off. It should be fully fueled however and have some extra drop tanks. Now then, since we have to move up our time-table, let's get airborne."
The group dispersed and ran to their aircraft and started the engines. Dieter watched as Voss appeared in the cockpit windows and then watched as the two engines started turning. There was a commotion outside as the ground crews began running in to see what was happening. The crew chief flagged down Dieter and waved for him.
"Major! What's going on?"
"Emergency orders for deployment! Clear the way!"
The ground chief, oblivious to the lie, began waving the aircraft our of the hanger and onto the runway. Voss and the bomber were first, Dieter and Jyne were second, Wolff and Stern were last. As the bomber began rolling forward, the radio came on.
"Attention Bomber 824G, you are not cleared for takeoff at this time! Return to the hagar area at once! Wh-what the hell?! 215 Squadron! You are in direct violation of your standing orders! Shut off the engines and prepare to explain as to what you are doing!"
"Cat's out of the bag now." Dieter mumbled as he flicked his radio. "Voss! Go!"
The bomber shot forward with a roar and rocketed down the runway. Dieter and his squadron simultaneously pushed the throttle to full and they also shot to full power. As Voss was pulling up the landing gear, Dieter and the 215 were coming up. They took escort formation around the bomber and then they set of on a course east.
Towards Launces.
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Well, here it is. Next chapter will be the flight from Rotiart. Also, for those of you curious, I had originally wanted to base the Syllian jet of the German Me 262 but at the last second decided on the American P-59 Airacomet.
Next Chapter: Fugitive Hope.
