Chapter One: Squadron of the West Isle
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Sand Island Air Force Base, Ceres Ocean.
September 23rd, 2010.
1230hrs.
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Kathryn Hamilton stared out the office window, her eyes fixed on the sky outside as she thought about the training sortie she was missing out on. Not many pilots were left behind but the ones that were all seemed to be perfectly fine with having the morning off. Kathryn on the other hand was not, mainly because she'd been called into the adjutant base commander's office. And the adjutant base commander on Sand Island just so happened to be her older brother, five years her senior.
So there she stood, looking everywhere but at him as he went over a report from the last time she'd flown quiet as can be. She found him far more intimidating than their father, probably because their father hadn't been around for the first five or so years of her life and Allen had stepped up to help their aunt and uncle raise her as well as himself. The older he got the more serious he became, always having been intense and focused but now having actual authority to go along with it. She bent over backwards for her family to take her seriously and yet she was waiting to be scolded as though she was a child. It was enough to make her blood boil, but she kept quiet.
At last her brother let out a sigh, leaning back in his seat and drawing her attention to him. He tapped his pen on the papers, eyes flicking up at her. With the way he glared at her he could have burned a hole through her head. "You do know that if it weren't for my recommendation you probably wouldn't be standing here right now?"
"You mean here specifically? Because I can't say I'm all that grateful if that's the case," Kathryn said, knowing full well that he was her superior officer and she should treat him with respect. But she wasn't going to stand here and be talked down to by someone she could blackmail with baby pictures. As far as she was concerned when that door was closed they were equals, not that he saw it that way.
"Cut it out, you know exactly what I meant," Allen said, keeping his voice level but stern. God, she hated when he did that. "I'm your brother and I sang your praises to the top brass after hearing you'd grown as a pilot. When you act out it reflects badly on me…among others far more concerned about keeping up appearances than I am."
"Look, we were told to trust our instincts and that's exactly what I did. It isn't my fault Dogma can't stand not being in control," Kathryn said, jumping to defend herself. She shouldn't have really blamed him, given how by the book he was and the fact she definitely did not do things 'by the book'. The person she should have been trusting in the air was the one person she wanted nothing more than to strangle as soon as they landed. "Speaking of, why the hell am I here getting lectured and he's nowhere to be seen?"
"Lieutenant Gallagher requested he fly with a different pilot, so we paired him with Lieutenant Nagase. Right now he's out at Cape Landers with Captain Bartlett's flight," Allen told her, and she felt her fists clench. Lucky bastard. Her brother continued before she could say anything to it. "Captain Bartlett felt he might bring better balance to Lieutenant Nagase's passiveness, since the two of you did nothing but clash in the air. He's supposed to be your teammate and you don't even listen to him half the time."
"Dogma's just an ass kissing prick trying to get cozy with you and the rest of the brass…" Kathryn muttered, not making an effort to keep him from hearing. Dogma wasn't an easy person to get along with, that was no secret. She knew Lieutenant Nagase well, sharing a room with her in fact, and she wondered how on earth those two were gonna fly together. All three of them were overachievers, but in different ways. Nagase was the subtle type, while Dogma tended to be louder about it, and Kathryn despite her introversion made it her effort to be just as loud. She had to just to be heard. But she had other concerns at the moment. "So what am I supposed to do now?"
Allen sighed, leaning forward in his seat and going over a file. Probably a different report, Kathryn didn't really pay attention to it. He spoke as he skimmed the papers. "While I personally would like to teach you a lesson…especially given the fact that stunt you pulled endangered six different people, your own wingman and his backseater included," he said, glaring at her once again for emphasis and causing her to roll her eyes as he went on, "I unfortunately was not given a say in the matter. Captain Bartlett sees something in you, though what exactly I don't know anymore. He wants you to fly with Lieutenant Pierce."
Kathryn recognized that name. He was on the older side, maybe only a few years younger than Captain Bartlett, and seemingly friendly and relaxed all the time. The name he'd gotten saddled with was 'Clown', courtesy of that talkative guy, Chopper. Those two got along well, but somehow Clown was stuck sitting in the reserves most of the time. Way too many people to juggle around. She'd only spoken to him a few times, but she got the impression he was easygoing. Chopper had claimed Clown was too clever for his own good, though, able to wait and seize opportunities the pilot didn't even notice.
Of all the people she expected to be flying with, it hadn't been him. But she'd take easygoing over Dogma and that stick he had shoved up his ass. She looked down at her brother, weighing what other options she had. It seemed this wasn't a 'take it or leave it' scenario, though. "What did he do for you to want to shove him in the cockpit with me?"
"You think you're a regular Maverick, don't you?" Allen asked rhetorically with a shake of his head. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. "Don't take that as a compliment, I'm calling out your ego. To answer your question, he didn't 'do' anything. Bartlett and Captain Baker wanted to reorganize things for the sake of balancing things in the air. Your tendency to fly off the handle was supposed to be reined in by Lieutenant Gallagher's strictness, but instead you two couldn't even work together."
"That's not entirely my fault," Kathryn put in.
Allen ignored her and kept talking as though she hadn't said anything. "Clown needs more experience and he gets along with almost everyone. If you aren't able to work with him then I'm going to assume you're a lost cause."
Kathryn swallowed, feeling a knot forming in her throat. She didn't pull stupid stunts all the time, but when she did she made sure they counted, and every time she answered for it. As though she hadn't been taught those maneuvers by someone. A 'lost cause' was how she felt sometimes, like her whole career was a waste of her time. Quietly, she told him, "I'm just as good a pilot as you are, if you gave me half a chance to prove it."
"Here's your chance. Listen to your instincts and your partner, instead of throwing both your careers down the drain," Allen said, and she hated to admit he could be right. "Otherwise, I'm sure Dad would love to hear why you've been shipped back home with your tail between your legs."
At the mention of their father she snapped her head up and felt her heart rate quicken, but she kept her expression blank. Crossing her arms, she glanced over her shoulder, wanting to be anywhere but in that office. It felt like she was in a cage and she'd reached her limit. "May I be dismissed or do you intend to stare me down for another half hour?"
"Believe it or not, Ryn, I don't want to see you fail. You are a good pilot, you're just not a great one," Allen said to her, and the tone of voice he used wasn't mocking. In fact, it was almost soft. The way he would speak whenever they got into fights and he would almost apologize. She didn't look at him, and after a few seconds of silence and trying to get a reaction from him he admitted defeat and his voice returned to normal. "You're free to go. This was mostly just a formality."
Kathryn nodded, turning without a second thought. "Good day, then, Captain."
"Kathryn." Right as she put her hand on the doorknob he called out to her, and she stopped, waiting. He sighed, as though he regretted trying to say anything else, but to her back he said, "Would you please be more careful and start using that head of yours? You're smart. You shouldn't have to prove that."
Kathryn said nothing to that, taking in a deep breath and opening the door to his office. She avoided looking back as she stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her with a heavy clack. In the hallways she was met with an almost blinding shift in lighting and tone, courtesy of the white LEDs against dark linoleum tiles and blank white walls. There was plenty of natural light to be had around there at least, meaning the light wasn't as hard on the eyes during the day, but it still required an adjustment.
Around her was the sounds of soldiers chatting as they walked around and went about their day, the activity a welcomed change from the uncomfortable silence in her brother's office. A few soldiers, none of them pilots, passed by at a light jog, clearly having somewhere important to be given that they barely gave anyone any warning of their approach or time to get out of the way. Waiting for her directly across from the door, leaning against the wall and staying out of the way, she was met by the familiar face of Airman Hans Grimm.
She almost felt relieved as soon as she saw him, knowing him better than just about anyone on the base save for her brother. Only two months apart in age, she'd known him since she was about six years old, when her father returned from his travels and moved himself and his kids out to the middle of nowhere and bought a bunch of land. As it turned out they ended up next door (as next door as you can be to someone that's almost thirty minutes down the road) to one of her father's buddies, who just so happened to be Hans' uncle. The two of them had been friends ever since, not like they had many choices in the town they grew up in.
Hans joining the air force had ended up being the last straw for her. First her brother, then her father's history as a pilot and Hans' uncle, then Hans' brother joining the OGDF which inspired Hans to strive to be a pilot. Kathryn had no direction, she was just as smart and enamored with aircraft as anyone else, so she'd applied to the Air Defense Force Academy right out of high school. They'd both been ahead in their studies, and an early graduation saw them pilots at the age of twenty. Just like when they were growing up, they'd been inseparable during their training. In fact, Hans got the assignment from Allen's recommendation just like she had.
As soon as he heard the door shut he lifted his head up to look at her, green-brown eyes lit up with concern. The freckles all over his face almost made him look younger than he was. Before she could greet him, he asked, "So, how'd it go?"
"Not as bad as I expected. Just got chewed out and informed Dogma won't fly with me anymore," Kathryn responded with a shrug, not really wanting to think about the conversation the rest of the day. It was over and done with, she may as well move on.
"Were you really surprised? Captain Bartlett had been impressed, but I thought Captain Svenson was going to kill you on the spot," Hans said, almost looking amused, straightening up and lightly pushing himself off of the wall. He took a few steps towards her. "But seriously, though, sooner or later you're gonna end up pushing your luck too far."
"I had an opening so I took it. In a real dogfight Bartlett would have been dead," Kathryn said, admittedly tired of defending herself. The more she thought about it, the more she admitted it was reckless. Maybe Allen had just ruined her mood.
"Yeah, and you and Dogma along with him, probably," Hans pointed out, and she lightly jabbed him with her elbow. He was right, though, they had narrowly avoided a collision up there. She knew better now, they could all just drop it.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Captain Hamilton already lectured me from his high horse," Kathryn said, lowering his voice as a group of soldiers passed by. She started down the hallway, intending to track down Clown, hearing Hans fall into step beside her without questioning a thing. Still, she may as well offer him some conversation as they walk. "Apparently Bartlett wants me to fly with Clown from now on."
"That's the third backseater you've chased off since Heierlark," Hans said, his voice bordering on concerned and scolding. "If you didn't want to have to work with someone else in the air then you should have found some way to get in on that F-22 program or something. You'd have been saved a lot of trouble."
"Right, then I'd be around a bunch of hotshots with inflated egos causing problems instead of me," Kathryn said with an irritated sigh, recalling the types they'd met in flight school. It was an amazing aircraft, but not something she thought was worth it, and no one would have let her near one anyways. Her callsign wasn't 'Blaze' for no reason, if there was a way to burn out a multi-million zollar aircraft she'd probably find a way. "I'd seriously doubt I'd last very long…"
It wasn't like she tried to make problems, it just ended up happening. She wasn't disrespectful on purpose, she just…didn't like to follow orders sometimes. If she had a better idea she ran with it, and she didn't care to check with her comrades. And she didn't trust them all that much either, and the feeling usually ended up being mutual. It probably didn't help that she had a tendency to get snappy and smart with people. Honestly, it was a miracle she hadn't bombed out at flight school. The fact they let her fly anything at all was good enough for her, and maybe she'd have better luck working with Clown.
Hans was far more anxious and shy than she was, but somehow he'd made more friends than she ever had. The mechanics around base knew them both well, but only Pops ever really gave Kathryn the time of day, while all of them liked having Hans around. Maybe he was just easier to give orders when he was helping out, she wasn't really sure. He also spent more time in the hangars than she did, having been sitting idle all of this time while everyone else had flown at least once. He wasn't confident in his abilities, and the fact he wasn't flying didn't help, but he was an amazing shot. He could hone in on just about any target and hit it with perfect accuracy, air and ground alike. It had earned him the moniker of 'Archer' long ago.
Still, he always stayed humble and maybe even insecure. Maybe his lack of confidence was why he almost never flew, and when he did it was for very basic maneuvers. He probably could have thrived in a different setting, instead he ended up stuck here with her. Kathryn was grateful to have him around in any case, it made life on the humid hell that was Sand Island a lot easier to tolerate.
As they finally reached the door leading outside, Hans chose to change the subject. "I heard from the mechanics that Bartlett took almost everyone up. Apparently the base commander wanted to put on a show for that journalist guy."
"Heh, like that's a surprise." Kathryn couldn't help but give a slight snort. Orson Perrault was one of the most self-righteous and annoying people she'd ever met. She'd bet good money that he was the one that wanted her brother to talk to her, and could have even threatened his position. She wouldn't put it past him.
"What'd you think of him yesterday anyways?" Hans asked.
"I'm not sure, we didn't really get a chance to speak," Kathryn said, recalling the class he'd shown up at yesterday. He'd looked them all over, and he looked like a kid at Christmas. Or he would have if not for the goatee thing on his chin. She gave a small smile. "I almost feel bad that he's sharing a room with Chopper."
"At least he won't run out of entertainment, I guess," Hans gave a soft chuckle. He was right, too, be it constant conversation or hundreds of rock albums to listen to. Chopper was a good guy from what she could tell, if not a bit much to deal with at times.
Their walk from the main HQ on base all the way out to the first hangar wasn't all that long, but thanks to the weather it felt like an eternity. She'd spent most of her life living in southern parts of Osea and she'd always hated the weather. Summers were hell, and while it was starting to cool off at the mainland by now the island still felt like a tropical paradise. Kathryn preferred the harsher winters of Aurick and what they had to put up with at Heierlark and the mild summers any day.
Due to the humidity and heat, the hangars always felt stuffy and miserable. The doors were always wide open when people were working or teaching, and even with the gigantic fans on the ceiling it was still awful. When they arrived at the hangar it was mostly empty, and the few aircraft that remained were simply being inspected by the ground crews. Pops, easily the best mechanic on the base, often did these inspections himself. Sure enough, he was one of the only ones around when Kathryn and Hans arrived.
A few of the maintenance crew hung out here and there, keeping to themselves and their conversations. The only people besides Pops that Kathryn recognized was Lieutenant Cruise, who normally would be flying with Bartlett if not for the fact that Genette guy had taken her seat for the exercise, and then Clown. They seemed to be talking to Pops, though Kathryn couldn't hear what was being said. Their footsteps echoed as they approached, drawing the three's attention towards them.
Pops smiled in greeting, looking almost sympathetically at Kathryn. He'd been present when she'd been ordered to report to Allen. "Hey, you two. Been wondering if you were kicked off the base yet."
The joke succeeded in lifting the mood, as Kathryn couldn't help but give an embarrassed laugh while Hans chuckled. Almost no one gave any indication they knew she and Allen were related, so they probably didn't even know the half of it. Only Hans and their superiors probably knew since that as well as her father's identity was on display in her record for all to see. As far as anyone cared, they just had the same last name, and no one cared to pry into that no matter their suspicions. Even if they did, Allen would waste no time throwing under her bus just to prove he didn't play favorites or to completely disavow any relation to her.
They came to a halt, and Lieutenant Cruise nodded to her. "Sorry you had to be sent down there," she said to her, offering a small smile. "Bartlett tried to get them to lay off you, but you know how Gallagher and Svenson can get. Sticklers for the textbook and all that."
"Eh, they ain't all that bad, poor Blaze just caught 'em on a bad day, that's all," Clown said with a short laugh, jumping to her defense. Already she knew she'd enjoy flying with him more than Dogma. His accent reminded her of home, a far thicker one than her own that only came out every so often and the dialect slightly different, but familiar all the same. "Anyway, guess Captain Hamilton told you the news then, huh?"
"Yeah, he told me. Sorry you had to get dragged into this," Kathryn said, feeling bad now that she knew he was already made aware of the situation.
"Not a problem at all, I don't mind it," Clown said with a shrug, a smile still present on his face. He sounded genuine to her. "Beats sittin' on the ground. Besides, I've seen you fly. I'd say we're gonna get along just fine."
"You've seen her fly and you're ready to go up with her just like that?" Pops asked, looking over his shoulder from what he was doing. He meant it in a playful way, just like his comment from before. "Guess you two are made for each other, then."
Hans looked surprised that Clown was so willing, even Kathryn found herself caught off guard by it. "At least you know what you're getting into, I guess."
Before anything else could be said, the familiar roar of Wardog Squadron's F-4s in the distance cutting them off before they could say anything else. Right away something was off, not only because one of them sounded like it was barely in the air but because it didn't sound the way it should have for how many aircraft had been sent up. The others picked up on it, with Cruise and Pops both staring outside with their brows furrowed in suspicion.
"Sounds like they're back, but…" Cruise said slowly.
The quiet on the ground quickly evolved into chaos and fear as the ground crew began shouting orders and running about, the only clear order that Kathryn could hear over the sound of the approaching fighters being 'clear the runway!''. That was enough to grab their attention, and Kathryn broke into a jog to reach the hangar doors, Hans and the others not far behind her.
Only three aircraft had returned, two of them circling about overhead as the third made its approach for landing while trailing smoke the whole way. It wobbled more than it should have been, likely the result of the engine close to complete failure, and they'd brought fire crews out likely to mitigate the damage if they were able to. They never got the chance to do their job, though, as the landing gear hadn't even hit the tarmac before the engine finally gave out. The aircraft veered off course, the wing slamming into the ground as it ignited. Kathryn and the others stood there helplessly, watching in horror as the wreckage burned off to the side of the runway.
Everyone on the fire crew rushed to the aircraft crew's aid, but one look at that explosion and the fire and anyone could see there probably wasn't any hope for them. Kathryn felt the shock wearing off, fear replacing it as she looked to the sky as the other two aircraft continued to circle overhead, just as helpless as everyone on the ground was. Only one thing was running through her mind.
What the hell happened out there?
1330hrs.
As soon as Genette felt his feet hit the ground below him he stumbled forward a few steps before he doubled over and the contents of his stomach were promptly hurled onto the pavement. He coughed and sputtered, gagging once more as the taste and smell of vomit worsened his nausea. It was embarrassing to say the least, especially once he realized how many people witnessed the event, but his mind was reeling with everything he'd seen in the air and his body did not appreciate the dogfight he'd been through.
After he passed out he missed the rest of the battle until Bartlett managed to rouse him from his sleep. At that point they'd already entered the immediate airspace around the island, and whatever had come of the fighters they'd engaged was a mystery to him. His camera had continued recording even while he was unconscious, though without Genette to hold it up he guessed the footage wouldn't show much. He'd ended the recording as soon as he came to his senses, something he was relieved he'd remembered to do after what had happened when they'd been cleared for landing.
The wreckage of Baker's aircraft was no longer burning, ground crew already working to clear it away. What remained of Baker and his RIO's bodies had been covered and rushed away, leaving Genette among the only four survivors of the incident. To think those two had survived the fight only to crash on landing like that. Genette and the others had been too shocked by what had happened to have any real reaction to it at the time, and he realized that still stood as Bartlett approached him with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Hey, you doin' okay over here? Do I need to send someone to fetch the doctor for you?" Bartlett asked, seeming genuinely concerned in his offer rather than mocking Genette for not being made of tougher stuff.
Genette took deep breaths, wiping off his mouth with the back of his glove before he removed it and pulled it inside out. Those would need washing now. His hands were trembling and the burning sensation in his throat didn't ease, but he doubted he'd need medical attention. Straightening up, he adjusted his camera bag on his shoulder and finally mustered the strength to answer Bartlett. "No. No, I'm fine," he said with a shake of his head, suppressing a cough.
"You sure?" Bartlett asked him, raising a brow. Genette nodded, trying to gather his strength before he said anything else. The Captain also nodded in acknowledgement. "Alright, if you're sure. But remember, if you pass out here and you're gonna wake up with a nasty concussion."
"That shouldn't be an issue, but thank you," Genette said, shoving the gloves he'd been wearing into the pocket of the flight suit he'd been issued. Right now he was more concerned about their companions, the only trainee duo out of six to make it back alive. They both looked more shaken than he was. "But what about them?"
At that, Bartlett approached the two without a word. Genette kept his distance, but followed a few paces behind, curiously peering around Bartlett at them. The pilot, Kei Nagase, stood motionless beside her aircraft as her RIO, Jason Gallagher, finally exited the cockpit and joined her on the ground. Bartlett's voice was low, so Genette couldn't hear what was said to them, he couldn't hear their responses either but they must have confirmed they were holding up just fine. As Bartlett nodded and turned away they both looked at him, Gallagher – or rather, Dogma as he'd been called in the air – looked away first, shaking his head and scoffing as he muttered something to Nagase.
Before Bartlett could relay anything to Genette, the woman that would have been flying with Bartlett today had it not been for Genette's arrival came jogging towards them. The look on her face was pure fear and confusion, a look shared by the three other students Genette remembered seeing in that class as they watched the scene from a good distance away. Lieutenant Cruise spoke before she even reached them. "Jack! What the hell happened to you guys out there?!"
The use of his first name over his rank or surname didn't seem to bother him at all as he turned to face her. Something caused him to hold back before he answered her, taking a deep breath before he told her, "We ran into a little trouble, that's all."
"Yeah, no kidding. Where's the rest of the squadron?" Cruise demanded, her blue eyes wide. She already knew the answer, Bartlett's silence and uncomfortable sigh the only confirmation she needed. She lowered her voice, her shock from before refusing to dissipate. "Jesus…does the base commander have any clue what's going on?"
"They didn't issue an alert here?" Bartlett asked her, and Cruise shook her head. He scoffed, shaking his head before he began to march away. It didn't seem to bother him that all of his flight gear was still on as he muttered to himself, "Figures…every single time something goes to shit they've gotta sweep it under the rug."
Cruise let him go without questioning him, likely still trying to process the loss of so many people. Genette, on the other hand, took off after him. His legs were still shaky, but he managed to keep control even with an awkward gait as he tried to catch up to and keep pace with Bartlett. Save for the few that had watched the disastrous landing, there weren't many people around and the atmosphere wasn't at all like what he'd have expected following the attack. The tension in the air from Bartlett was the only thing that made what had happened feel real.
Without a word Genette followed him a few feet before Bartlett broke the silence, glancing over his shoulder. "Sorry about this."
Genette couldn't find a good reason for the apology he'd just received. It wasn't his fault they'd run into those fighters or that they'd attacked them as soon as they'd intercepted. Nor was it his fault that they'd been given unreliable coordinates. In Genette's eyes the only people that should be apologizing were those that had been trusted to keep them in the know, but he knew that would never happen. Their mistake resulted in the deaths of sixteen people. Sixteen people that would not be returning home. And the only one that would bear the weight of that responsibility would likely be Bartlett himself.
Perhaps that was where his apology had come in, not that all the apologies in the world would have changed what happened. Genette looked over his shoulder, watching as Cruise approached Nagase and Dogma, saying something to them and maybe even trying to coax them out of the burning hot sun overhead and to the hangar where what remained of Bartlett's nuggets were waiting for them. They didn't move, Nagase shaking her head numbly. Genette thought back to the fight, wondering how such a timid young pilot had managed to be such a force in the air. He chose then to respond to the captain.
"It isn't your fault…there's no way anyone could have predicted what happened," Genette said, and it was the truth. Bartlett didn't respond, so he continued, wishing he could find something to say that might make the situation better. There wasn't much he could do, unfortunately. "Your squadron did the best that they could with the odds up there. You should be proud, you trained them well."
"Yeah, not well enough…" Bartlett grumbled, though his anger was at himself not at the pilots that had lost their lives. From what Genette could see he looked like he was barely keeping himself together.
"What about that pilot in the Number Seven? Lieutenant Nagase?" Genette asked him. She'd been the first to react and even managed to keep up with Bartlett's flying, at least that's how Genette remembered it before everything went dark. The aircraft was spotless following the fight, just like Bartlett's, and thanks to her skill she and Dogma would live to see another day. "She was amazing. Did you see her fight back?"
"Are you kidding? I couldn't bear to watch," Bartlett said, slowing his pace and turning. Genette stopped, confused by the reaction as the captain turned to face Nagase, gesturing with his helmet as he raised his voice so she could hear him. It sounded like he was barely containing his anger, though Genette wondered how much of it was truly directed at her. "Nagase, you keep flying like that and you'll die real soon! Next time you follow my damn orders, do you hear me?"
Following his gaze to where Nagase stood, Genette noticed that she didn't look up at her superior. Everyone stared at her, and she seemed to avoid looking at any of them on purpose. Barely loud enough for anyone to hear, and certainly not shouting, she simply told him, "No. I won't die, sir…"
Brushing her bangs out of her face, she pressed a hand to her forehead as if she had a headache she was trying to fend off. She only lifted her gaze when Lieutenant Cruise gently rubbed her shoulder and set off with Dogma back towards the hangar, but she didn't move from where she stood. The woman Genette had learned was called 'Blaze' after she'd been dismissed earlier that morning walked out to where she stood, placing a hand on her shoulder as soon as she was by her side.
The quiet response from Nagase earned a scoff from Bartlett as he gave her a disbelieving look. "Pfft. Are you sure?" he said, turning back around and continuing on his way with a frustrated wave of his hand. "You look like you couldn't hurt a fly."
Genette remained where he stood, feeling a pang of sympathy for her. After what she'd just been through, he couldn't fault her for being so reserved. Something about her managed to grab his attention, and with the lighting being suitable he thought to document this moment for the sake of storytelling later on. He didn't have much else to offer given the state of things and the fact he hadn't had time to speak with any of the other trainees before they'd gone up that morning. It was hard to believe he'd only just met them and still felt an ache in his chest thinking about them.
He slowly lifted his camera to his face, zooming in on her and adjusting the lens until he had a clear focus. Nagase noticed him out of the corner of her eye, slowly turning to face him as Blaze stood watching just out of the camera's frame. Nagase looked pale and exhausted, but regardless of this the edges of her mouth lifted slightly and her features softened as she tried to give him the best smile she could. Although faint, it was still visible, along with a scar on her chin that he hadn't noticed. Perhaps the only harsh thing about her face at all.
A light breeze displaced a few strands of her hair, and Genette chose to snap a small series of photos as the wind began to cease and her hair fell back in place. He lowered the camera, brought back to his surroundings as soon as he did. The only thing he could offer her was a smile that was both a mixture of grateful and sympathetic, which she barely could return before she turned to look at Blaze once more. Genette left them alone, turning once more to follow after Bartlett as they headed for the main building.
It took some time for Genette to catch up with Bartlett, and once he did the two of them said very little the rest of the way. As soon as they opened the frontmost door leading inside they were promptly met by several men and women in standard OADF fatigues moving about, papers in their hands. The muffled sounds of a few different telephones ringing could be heard behind many doors, all labeled to identify them as various command and intelligence unit offices. It was quiet, though there was a barely noticeable sense of urgency in their movements. The air conditioning was perhaps the only change inside, which Genette was grateful for.
The doors between the main building and the hallway leading to crew quarters had been shut, usually remaining propped open, though it wasn't locked as a few soldiers passed by on their way out from their rooms and exchanged confused and worried looks when they caught sight of Bartlett and Genette. No one asked the two any questions as they moved around everyone, on their way to the base commander's office down a different series of halls. As they finally came upon the base commander's office, they were greeted by two MPs exiting said office and promptly stopping them.
"Captain Bartlett, sir. Just the man we were looking for. Could we have a moment?" their commander asked, somewhat nervously though he held his ground.
"What's the matter?" Bartlett asked, though everyone here seemed to know exactly what the problem was. The MPs glanced at Genette and he felt his nausea from before returning as his nerves got the better of him. Bartlett also looked his way and must have caught Genette's expression before he turned back to the expectant MPs. "C'mon, after what just happened surely you can cut him some slack?"
"It's precisely because of what just happened that we've been given our orders, sir. I'm sorry, it's protocol," the MP answered, nodding to his companion.
Instantly the other MP approached Genette, holding his hand out expectantly. Genette was pretty sure he knew what they wanted, but he hesitated and the soldier that stood before him gave him a clear, firm order. "Hand over the camera, please, sir. It's a security violation."
Genette hesitated, unwilling to part with his camera. It wasn't something that had come cheap to him, and he'd have to go all the way back to the mainland in order to replace or repair any permanent damage done to it. Something that also wasn't going to come cheap. He looked at Bartlett, but both of them knew there wasn't anything that could be done. Sighing, he reluctantly removed the camera from around his neck and placed it in their hands, surrendering the bag as well in case they wanted to hassle him.
"Please, be careful," he almost pleaded as the MP practically jerked the camera bag away. It was enough to make him wince when he nonchalantly shoved the camera into the bag. All Genette could do was pray they didn't completely destroy it.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Good day." The MP from before gave a quick nod to both of them as he and his companion left them alone, pushing past them and leaving them standing almost dumbfounded outside the base commander's office. It was as though nothing happened.
"Unbelievable." Bartlett watched them go with an almost murderous look at Genette's expense before he turned to the office door, pulling it open with almost enough force to rip it off the hinges as he did.
The decked out office on the other side of the door belonged to Colonel Perrault, his name plastered on the plaque on the door, the name card on his desk, and various certificates, awards, and other medals he kept on display all over the walls. The Osean flag was set up in the corner of the room by the window, right across from the door. His desk sat with its back to that window, facing the door, and with the way he had it set up it almost might have looked like a throne if not for the basic wood and drab white walls surrounding him.
Colonel Perrault was a heavy-set, irritable man as Genette had learned the previous day. And now, as he stood alongside Bartlett having just interrupted a conversation he was having with Captain Hamilton it seemed Genette was about to get another taste of that. He turned his dark, beady eyes on them and scowled. "You've just saved me the trouble of calling you over here, Captain. Though I'd appreciate it if you'd learn to knock."
Hamilton, who had been standing with his back to the door in front of the desk, stepped off to the side and looked them over. He said nothing, though, almost looking concerned by the whole ordeal. Clearly he was privy to what had happened, something that likely wasn't the case for many other people on the base.
"That should be the least of your worries, sir," Bartlett snapped, stressing the 'sir' in as disrespectful and mocking way as he could. He didn't bother to stand at any sort of attention, something that must have been common practice given the Colonel's eye roll and silence. "You mind telling me who the hell crossed our border today and why no one's doing a damn thing about it?"
"The situation is being investigated. It's hardly any of your concern, Captain," Perrault responded, trying to sound cool headed. He leaned back in his seat, a feat that took more effort than it should have. "Now, a better question would be why you engaged the unknown aircraft when you were under orders to intercept them."
Bartlett gave him an incredulous look. "They opened fire on us! What else did you expect me to do, invite 'em to talk over coffee?"
"I expected you to follow orders," Perrault shot back. "Perhaps you should have attempted to make radio contact before they were within range, then this whole situation could have been avoided. Instead I have to cover this whole mess up!"
"I'd bet a million zollars there'd have been no response. And I've got sixteen dead soldiers to prove as much," Bartlett said, never once breaking eye contact with Perrault. Genette and Hamilton watched the exchange in silence, Genette barely breathing. "All because some trigger happy nutjobs decided to hop across the pond!"
"What happened was an unfortunate training accident as a result of birdstrike and mid-air collisions while in formation. Captain Baker and Lieutenant Stewart's deaths were the result of pilot error," Perrault said pointedly, looking almost bored by their conversation. "That is the official story. Nothing more, nothing less. Your journalist friend here can even attest to that, having witnessed the entire thing."
Genette blinked, the tone of voice he used almost that of a warning. It wasn't a statement or a hidden request, it was an order. One that would likely result in severe punishment should they refuse to follow it. While he understood wanting to keep things under control, it seemed like a disservice to write off their deaths as just an unfortunate accident. Like anyone could buy that birdstrike caused the death of so many people in the blink of an eye. And besides that, while Cape Landers wasn't a highly populated area there was no way that fight didn't catch someone's attention.
It was ridiculous, but he kept his mouth shut. No, he left the protesting to Bartlett, who said enough for both of them. "So that's it, then? The four of us that made it back are just supposed to shut our mouths and let you throw our wingmen under the bus to save face?"
"We're increasing patrols starting tomorrow due to a lack of experience among our pilots, as far as you and what remains of your crew are concerned. The same goes for Mr. Genette, who will be remaining at base for all following sorties," Perrault said, moving on and making an effort to ignore Bartlett. He sighed. "There's nothing more I have to say to you two. You're dismissed."
"This is gonna come back to bite you in the ass…bastard…" Bartlett said, not bothering to wait for Genette before he made for the door. He didn't seem to care if anyone heard him or not as he left.
Hamilton drew in a breath, giving a look that told Genette he didn't necessarily disagree with Bartlett's comment. His arms crossed behind his back, he gave an almost awkward nod to Genette as he called to both of them, "Good day, Captain. Genette."
"Same to you, sirs," Genette said quietly before he turned to follow Bartlett once more, at a slower, more dejected pace rather than a frustrated one. The situation was clear. Whatever had happened was to be covered up like it had never happened, and Genette's camera was likely not to be returned to him as the only concrete proof anyone had that confirmed the pilots' words. Those people were to be dragged through the mud following their deaths rather than honored, just like Bartlett had said. All to save face.
He didn't bother closing the door behind him, letting it slam shut behind him on his own terms. Right before it closed, he heard Perrault address Hamilton. "Not even an ounce of respect in that man's body. He and your sister are one in the same…if it were up to me they'd be out on their asses long ago."
Although it intrigued him, Genette was never one for eavesdropping. He left it alone, though he would make it a point now to keep his eyes on the remaining pilots, especially the one they called Blaze. She was the same one Hamilton had glared at and had been sent away by Svenson prior to the operation. He wondered what the others, such as Chopper and Blaze, thought of such an obvious coverup. Something told him not many people were going to buy it, but there was nothing that could be done.
As he and Bartlett set off back to the hangars to discard the uncomfortable flight gear still strapped to them, he suddenly had a bad feeling about what was to come. At least Sand Island had offered him that surprise he'd been hoping for.
1600hrs.
The crew ready room was quieter than usual, something that made the absence of their missing wingmates all the more obvious. Natural light poured in from the large window on the wall opposite the door, giving a warm but empty feeling to the room almost. The only conversations were between that of Chopper and his RIO, a woman they called Alto, and whatever scattered conversations could be heard from those passing by in the halls.
Kathryn sat between Hans and Clown near the front of the room, looking to the door every so often as what was left of Bartlett's class of rookie pilots filed in at their own intervals. Otherwise, she just sat there twisting a strand of hair she'd pulled loose from her ponytail. An idle habit of hers she'd had for as long as she could remember.
The three of them had gotten here early, finding Captain Bartlett leaned back in his chair with one leg propped up on the other, just blankly staring up at the ceiling and making no indication he noticed his men entering the room. Lieutenant Cruise stood leaning against the wall at the back of the room, watching everyone with a blank expression and occasionally looking at her pilot with concern.
Off to the corner, by the whiteboard that still had writing from that morning, the journalist Genette sat hunched over with his hands clasped in front of him. He was quite literally twiddling his thumbs, having since changed back into civilian clothes and recovered from the incident after landing. He'd also been here ahead of time with Bartlett, waiting for the others, not saying a word and only looking up when motion by the door caught his eye. Kathryn had been using him as her cue to look over her shoulder, wondering where her roommate was.
Nagase had been a mess when they arrived back at base, saying far less than usual and barely answering Kathryn's questions with more than one or two words. She'd accompanied her back to their room and Nagase had just collapsed onto her bunk, so Kathryn let her get some rest. When she'd gone back to inform her that Bartlett wanted everyone to report to the briefing room she'd found that Nagase had vanished, and she could only assume that she already knew.
Dogma had arrived not long after Chopper and Alto, taking a seat one row ahead of them beside one of the backseaters that often flew with Hans, Arrow. She wasn't a difficult person to get along with, though not particularly outgoing like Chopper and Clown. Kathryn wondered if the sole reason he chose to sit by her was because not only had she not witnessed the landing earlier that day, but because she was the only person other than Nagase and Alto that didn't make an effort to get on his nerves for being so uptight all the time.
In the corner of the room, Genette lifted his head and straightened his posture, offering a small smile in greeting to the person that entered the room. Kathryn followed his gaze as Nagase quietly stepped through the door, forcing herself to return the gesture, and made a beeline for the empty seat next to Hans. Without a word she sat down, hands in her lap as she stared ahead at the wall behind Bartlett's chair. She had uncomfortably perfect posture as always, the kind that made Kathryn's back hurt just looking at her.
Kathryn leaned over towards Hans so Nagase could hear her, getting her attention as she spoke just above a whisper to her so as not to disturb the others. "Hey, Nagase. Kei," she said, switching to using her first name when she didn't answer to her surname. Once Kathryn had her attention, Nagase slowly looking her way with a curious expression, she went on. "Are you feeling alright? I couldn't find you earlier."
"I'm fine," Nagase said softly, though judging from her expression that seemed the farthest thing from the truth. "I had just gone to the mess hall to grab a bite to eat, and Captain Hamilton asked to speak to me about the sortie, that's all."
"Speaking of, just what happened up there?" Kathryn asked. They'd been told absolutely nothing about the incident, just that it was some accident or something. Judging from the state of Baker's plane before he crashed, though, that didn't sound right at all.
Nagase hesitated, picking at the fabric of her flight suit with her hands as she lowered her head. Barely loud enough for Kathryn to hear her, she answered, "Forget about it, it was just a freak incident. Nothing we were expecting."
She didn't seem to be in the mood for talking after that, so Kathryn let her be, leaning back in her own seat and glancing at Hans. He'd been listening to the whole thing, obviously, but hadn't interjected. Kathryn whispered to him, "None of this feels right. There's something we aren't being told."
"Yeah, maybe, but there's nothing we can do about it. Just leave it alone," Hans responded, not taking his eyes off the front of the room. He crossed his arms against his chest, adjusting himself in his seat. "Get too nosy and it's just going to cause problems for everyone."
"Be nice if things didn't have to be done that way…" Kathryn mumbled, mainly to herself. She hated being left in the dark and she hated being lied to. Part of the reason was that she could see how badly Nagase, Dogma, and Bartlett had been affected by the entire ordeal and it was just being swept under the rug. Hans was right, though, there was nothing they could do about it. Just keep their mouths shut and do what they were told.
Only a few more moments passed before Bartlett finally sat up with a grunt of effort, uncrossing his legs and leaning over in his seat. He stared at the floor before he looked around the room at all of them. "I know you don't want to hear this after today, but we're short on people. The top brass would rather I didn't say anything, but…"
"Captain?" Cruise spoke up, the expression on her face one of confusion. Kathryn had a feeling she didn't know the full story either, but she probably knew the survivors of the incident were expected to be tight-lipped about it. He nodded to her, and she hesitated for only a moment before she briskly made for the door and softly shut it.
Confused murmurs spread around the room, the only one making an audible reaction being Dogma as he pinched the bridge of his nose and practically growled between gritted teeth, "Oh, for Christ's sake…"
Bartlett ignored him, giving a grateful nod to Cruise before he continued. "There's no way I can properly brief you by lyin' to your faces, so I'm not gonna bother with that protocol BS," he said, the contempt in his voice obvious. "Unidentified aircraft launched an attack on us today. It wasn't a training accident. Starting tomorrow all you nuggets are gonna be sittin' alert because of this, though as far as anyone is concerned it's just for an increase in patrols or some other stupid excuse. But if we launch, I expect you to stay glued to me up there. You hear me?"
There seemed to be some hesitance, the information he'd just given them a good enough cause for anxiety, the only ones not further affected by the news being the survivors. Kathryn knew there was a reason they kept information like that under cover, she really did, and it was to avoid any panic or further incidents, but if you asked her this sounded like the initial stages of a potential war. You didn't have to be a genius to figure that out, you just had to take a look in any history book. The question was who was picking a fight with Osea and why? Since the Belkan War they hardly had many enemies, and that was fifteen years ago.
Kathryn wondered what they'd do if it actually came to that, but she hoped Nagase had been right about the 'freak incident' thing. Maybe nothing more would come from it, but if it did…her nerves were shot just thinking about it, not that she had much to lose if anything happened to her. Beside her Hans had drawn in a sharp breath, tensing and regularly clenching and unclenching his fist. She wondered what was going through his head, though she could guess just looking at him.
Nearly a minute passed by and no one had said anything, so Kathryn swallowed and decided to take the step everyone else seemed unwilling to. "If that happens, who are you planning to fly with, sir?"
"I was just about to get to that." Bartlett raised his brow, lifting his head slightly. He looked around the room, drawing in a deep breath. Not like he could afford to be very picky with only five pilots left. He raised a hand to his chin almost thoughtfully, then he sharply called out, "Nagase!"
Nagase sat even straighter, if that was possible, taking a deep breath as everyone in the room looked at her now. Her voice was steady when she responded. "Sir."
"You're flying Number Two on my wing with Dogma, and I expect you to stay on my ass the whole time. Gotta keep an eye on you or who knows what you'll get yourself into…" Bartlett said, a comment that didn't sit well with Nagase. She lifted her head, almost defiantly, and narrowed her eyes as though she took what he'd said as a challenge. If he noticed, he ignored it, moving on to the rest of them. "And speaking of trouble…Chopper and Alto will be flying Number Three, and Blaze and Clown will be taking up the trail position. Don't stray from us if something happens, we'll only have each other to rely on. Grimm and Arrow are gonna hang out here on standby, but that's all we've got."
"Yes, sir," all of them sounded off almost simultaneously, Chopper easily the only person in the room that sounded chipper as he responded.
"Oh, and one other thing," Bartlett said with a sigh, catching Cruise staring him down along with Dogma. He straightened up in his seat. "None of what I told you is to leave this room, do you understand me? You lot aren't goin' down just because I couldn't keep my mouth shut." Once he was satisfied they all were clear on that, he nodded. "Alright, good. Dismissed. Go grab some dinner, get some rest. There's no tellin' what's in store for us."
They all stood up at that, Chopper stretching out his arms and giving an exaggerated groan as he did, as though he'd been sitting there for an eternity. He chuckled, sarcastically remarking to anyone who was listening, "Man, is this gonna be fun or what? We don't even know what's waitin' for us and we're just gonna hop up there and hope for the best. Foolproof plan! No way this could go wrong, right?"
"Hey, at least you're all getting to fly," Arrow remarked with a snort, grabbing her flight jacket from off the back of her chair. Evidently she was somehow cold in a tropical climate, not that Kathryn could blame her. She'd swear the AC was set down below freezing sometimes.
"I don't know, it's just hard to believe Osea might go to war again. We haven't had problems in years," Hans said, shaking his head. He grew up on the same stories Kathryn did, ones that likely everyone else had heard from different perspectives at some point. "For all we know we're gonna end up in over our heads, but maybe they were just testing the waters? If they got chased off once I doubt they'll come back for more."
"Optimistic one, aren't you?" Dogma almost sneered, though Hans didn't flinch. "Reality is that they could have easily overpowered us and they didn't, which tells me they know they can take us now. You'd have all been better off in ignorant bliss…"
"Hey, take it easy on him, would you? We're all still in shock over this, no point in fighting with each other," Alto said to keep a fight from breaking out. Her voice was quiet and solemn, but she wore a kind smile. "If there's anyone out there waiting for us we deserve to be ready for them."
"Yeah, which means savin' all that anger of yours for the right people," Clown chimed in, smirking as Dogma looked embarrassed by the scolding he was receiving from the others. "Seriously, we're all on the same side. Ain't no use arguin' about it when it changes nothin'. There's an enemy out there and it ain't anyone in this room."
"Clown's right. We just have to do what we can assuming anything happens," Nagase said, the look on her face from earlier still present. She seemed almost agitated, but you'd have never guessed it by how calmly she spoke and moved around.
"Heh, jeez, this is a real fun crowd. Anyways, anyone wanna join me in the mess? I'm starving…" Chopper said, already heading for the door. He let out a scoff as he thought of a dark afterthought. "Hey, who knows, might just be our last meal."
He'd been beside Cruise when he said that, and she reached out and lightly smacked the back of his head like a parent scolding their child. "Knock it off, Davenport. That's not funny and you know it."
"Gah…sorry…" Chopper muttered, wincing and reaching back to rub his head. Sometimes you'd think he was a child. "Ever heard of dark humor as a coping mechanism? Sheesh…"
Alto sighed as she followed him into the hall. "There's a line, Chopper."
Kathryn watched as most of the group left, Genette getting to his feet and bidding farewell to Bartlett before he went to catch up with the others. He and Nagase were the last to leave the room, Cruise leaving her spot at the back of the room to go and speak with Bartlett. Only Clown and Hans remained with Kathryn, evidently waiting on her.
"What do you say we go and grab a bite to eat? You never know, something crazy could happen out there again," Hans said, fidgeting nervously with his hands where he stood. Kathryn wondered if he was worried about her. He'd accepted her stubbornness long ago, but she knew she could worry him at times.
Clown answered first, moving around Kathryn to give him a pat on the shoulder. "Ah, cheer up, Grimm. Nothin'll happen to her up there, not with her crazy luck. I'd be more worried about anyone that wants to pick a fight with us."
Kathryn couldn't help but smile, though admittedly her mind was elsewhere. She wanted to speak with Bartlett. Not allowing her to sortie that morning had been a punishment, though not a result of Bartlett's actions. Something about her brother's words earlier hung in the back of her mind…that her superior wanted her to keep flying, but he didn't know why. Maybe she just wanted some reassurance on the matter, especially with everything that could go wrong tomorrow.
"He's right, Hans, we'll be fine," Kathryn said, though she didn't feel nearly as confident as she probably sounded. She nodded to him and Clown. "You two go catch up with the others. I'll be over in a bit."
"You sure? Is everything okay?" Hans asked her.
"I'm fine, I just want to ask the captain something," Kathryn reassured him, and it was the truth. At that, Clown motioned for him to come along and the two of them left. She waited until they were out in the hall and on their way before she approached Bartlett and Cruise, never having been intimidated by them but finding herself nervous this time.
Bartlett was speaking to Cruise about something in a low voice, she couldn't really hear what it was but she guessed it might have had something to do with the attack that morning. He stopped once he noticed Kathryn approaching, putting on the expression he always did for his 'nuggets'. Standard 'I don't hate you but we aren't friends' kind of expression, or at least that's the best way Kathryn could think to describe it. If anything, he treated them the same way Pops did, just with a different attitude and approach to it. He and Baker were easily their best instructors.
He cleared his throat, bringing Cruise's attention to Kathryn as well before he asked, "Something the matter?"
Kathryn hesitated, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself all the same. "I wanted to thank you. For letting me fly, I mean."
"Oh, is that all?" Bartlett asked, seemingly confused by it. He gave a short chuckle. "Jeez, forget about it. Not like I have many options, really."
"What I really wanted to know was…why, though," Kathryn said quickly, unable to take it back once she said it. He raised an eyebrow, allowing her to elaborate. "Captain Hamilton made it clear I'm a pain in the ass and I screwed up, so why pick me instead of someone like Grimm? What makes you think I could handle a real dogfight?"
Bartlett just stared at her for a long while, his expression softening ever so slightly along with the look in his eyes. He gave a smile, a small one. "You've got potential, that's all. A blind man could see it. You're a good pilot, Kid, and you deserve the chance to prove it."
You're a good pilot, just not a great one. The thought crept up on her and she felt a mix of annoyance and determination all at once, but also fear. Fear that she would crack under pressure or just turn into one major disappointment when all was said and done. But she didn't want to let them see that, so she kept her head and nodded. "I understand, thank you."
"Just…don't make me regret it, alright? I'd like to see your talent and training pay off, so you better stay alive," Bartlett told her, leaning back in his seat. He seemed genuine, no trace of doubt anywhere on his face. He gave her a playful smirk. "Think that's an order you'll be able to follow?"
"I'll do my best, sir," Kathryn said, able to crack another smile in spite of her attempts to keep a poker face.
"Anything else?" Bartlett asked her.
"No, sir, that's all," Kathryn replied, feeling more pressure than she had before but at least now she felt up to the task. She had to be up for it either way, regardless of her own feelings, but at least this way it was a bit easier on her.
"Alright, then get outta here," Bartlett said, nodding to the door. It wasn't in an irritable way, his tone was as playful as the smirk that he still wore.
Kathryn gave a quick nod to both him and Cruise and headed for the door, off to join the others in the mess hall. Hans and Chopper had a point. It may not be their last meal per se, but it could be their last peaceful one. Or maybe there was nothing to be worried about, there wasn't any way they could predict that. But one thing was for sure, she couldn't let anyone down. No matter what they faced, she had to be ready for it.
As she stepped out into the busy hallway, she heard Lieutenant Cruise echo what he'd called her during their conversation. "'Kid'?"
Bartlett's response was drowned out by the conversations among passing soldiers, and Kathryn didn't wait around to hear it anyways. At the time she thought nothing of it, content to put it out of her mind as she went about her afternoon.