Take Off
0900 Hours, Early Fall 18th, 1994 (Local Time) Corneria City, CDSS
The news had broken earlier that morning.
Logan got more than the usual stares at school that day, though he was too preoccupied with the communiqué from last night. He'd heard nothing from his brother Adrian, who skirted violating OPSEC multiple times to keep him informed. Past experience meant that the ODST was running dark somewhere, and likely behind enemy lines.
Logan tried to suppress the dread. Tried.
The fact that the UNSC had elected to declare war was also troubling.
At the end of the Human-Covenant war, the remains of the Home fleet, Second, Fifth, Seventh, and Sixteenth fleets had been reduced to less than a handful of ships that fought at Installation 00. Of those remaining, the retrofit and redeployment was immediately necessary, in some cases with visible battle damage still being slowly addressed. ONI had been furiously adamant about keeping the visibly damaged ships away from the Lylat system for infosec reasons.
It would be extremely dangerous for Humanity's enemies to find out just how badly their fleet strength had been decimated.
For this reason, there was a monstrous reconstruction effort underway to pump out as many ships as possible; However, the construction time for dreadnoughts and frigates cannot be sped up past a certain point. Raw materials, shipyards, many variables determined how the post-war UNSC could replenish their navy.
Which is why the declaration of war puzzled Logan.
The conscientious plan would have been to stay out of the Lylat conflict and merely aid the friendly Cornerian government behind the scenes. Surely ONI had argued as much.
The tech level of the Lylat system also came into consideration.
Humanity was still studying Covenant plasma technology since the war, though headway had been very slow considering that Covie tech was merely adopted from ancient Forerunner design, thus even they didn't fully understand it.
The Lylat system, however, employed directed laser weaponry and energy-based shield technology. That was within the grasp of human science, and so must have been a priority for updating UNSC ship design.
Though if that were the case, why not just cannibalize wrecks or steal those elements during the confusion of a Corneria/Venom war? Why risk the dangerously thin UNSC navy?
Or was there some other threat that necessitated that response?
"Hey."
Logan snapped out of his musing to find Miyu poking his cheek.
"I know Cunningham's got a nice butt dude, just try not to stare so much."
The human blinked, and realized he'd zoned out while the lupine teacher's rear end was in his field of view. His face flushed and he was glad she was busy copying down a sentence on the board.
"Mind was elsewhere..." He muttered.
Miyu rested her cheek in her palm, looking him over.
"The news got you all wound up?" She asked mildly.
The human teenager let out a stressed-out sigh.
"Yeah. My brother's going to be fighting. I thought we left this all behind when the last war ended..."
"So what are you going to do about it?" The lynx asked flatly.
Logan stared at her, not sure what she meant. The feline sighed.
"So life dealt you a bad hand. Whatever. You gonna sit there feeling sorry for yourself? Or you gonna do something about it?"
The human stared at his Lynx housemate, mulling over her words.
"Maybe you're right," he said quietly, looking out the classroom window.
Miyu scoffed, kicking her shapely legs up with a cocky grin on her muzzle.
"You're not the only one with something to keep safe. Quit moping around so much Lo, the strong silent routine is sooo out of style."
Jones smirked despite himself, the Lynx had a way of getting through his guard.
"If you say so."
The feline's eyes brightened as she poked him with her boot.
"I know something that'll get you going..."
"Oh?"
"Foxie finally got us the sim room booked. We're meeting up after school."
Miyu was right. The thought of flying a starfighter certainly brightened the human's mood.
Lunchtime came with the usual bustle and chaos of many different species crowding the cafeteria that Logan had come to expect. It was still a little odd being surrounded by so many unusual looking humanoids and having them look at him like he was the odd one.
Stranger in a strange land.
The human teenager mixed the bowl of rice, beans and vegetables that had been displayed as a Zonessian specialty along the chow line. He'd developed a covert method of assessing how good the food would be by how much of it Slippy took ahead of him in line.
The office of naval intelligence would have been proud.
Sitting with Kat and Fara, Logan idly listened to the two of them chat about shopping together for the harvest solstice dance coming up.
He found it endearing in a way, how even in the face of impending war, these Cornerians could continue with their lives knowing full well their own families were caught up in the conflict. Fara's family was a significant weapons R&D corporation, Fox's father ran his mercenary outfit, and Bill could very well see his own father departing for the front lines at any time.
It put things into perspective, that suffering was not merely a human condition.
A bite of the rice bowl revealed some delicious spice that reminded him of Teriyaki sauce. Logan mulled over his friendship with the Cornerians since he had come into their lives. It all seemed kind of pointless, and he didn't grasp what the bigwigs at ONI intended by having him attend High School on Corneria as a public relations stunt. He was supposed to be some cog in the great diplomatic machine to ease relations with an alien race that didn't immediately launch plasma torpedoes in their direction like the Covies did.
And yet...
ONI didn't reprimand him or nix the exchange program when he shot Pigma. There had been a long debriefing/interrogation, but they were actually eager to find out how he'd integrated himself among the Cornerians. When he shared what Falco and Fay had gathered with him on their own, the intelligence officers were condescending with their smirks, but they none the less said it wasn't badly done, and filed away the notes when he left. So what was ONI really concerned about regarding his placement?
The train of thought had Logan suspecting it was his integration with the Cornerians that the spooks were monitoring. By their past exploits, ONI would love to have assets like himself poised inside a foreign power like that. The teen scoffed. If ONI thinks I'll sell us out they're dead wrong.
The spoon froze halfway to Logan's mouth.
When had he started thinking of Miyu and the others as 'us' and other humans as 'them?'
He looked around the table at the animals talking to each other amid lunch. Bill's larger frame gently splitting his dessert with Fay, white curls bouncing as she chattered next to him. Slippy gorging himself on his third bowl while Miyu was pointing a fork at Wolf, the scary looking lupine in mid-laugh. Fara and Kat looking demure in their makeup and silky brushed fur. Falco gesturing wildly with those blue feather-fingers he had, over a race he and Mcloud had coming up. The comfortable leadership by which Fox drew them all together.
What was it about them that drew him in? That they might march off into some adventure and he'd get up and join them without a second thought?
His eyes fell on Miyu, regarding the shape of her muzzle and the silky amber fur that melted into cream along her neck, speckled with dark spots and stripes typical to a Lynx. How her ears twitched, an earring glinting in the light, and the cobalt of her eyes flashing with fire.
I want to be here, Logan thought, I want to keep them safe.
Whatever might come in this war against Venom, the team would be able to count on him.
Whatever it takes...
The flight simulator was similar to the VR headsets they used in the capture the flag competition. The difference being that there were dozens of units designed to resemble a cockpit arranged in the room, and each of these had a self contained canopy which presented the simulation of flight and combat, along with physical feedback and G-forces stimulated by grav-tech. It was a remarkable training aid meant to accustom pilots to flying before more expensive real world trials would take place.
Logan swung over a scuffed beige fuselage and reached up to tug down the overhead canopy. The glass shimmered with pixilated colors before resolving into a view of a flight deck in a carrier. The teen secured his seat harness and yanked the slack tight. He took a shaky breath, and tried his best to remember what Fox and Falco had drilled him on beforehand.
Flip the manual switch for on board electrical, starting the reactor.
Turn the engine, drawing power from the reactor.
Connect the primary fuel cells, and secondary battery.
Fuel cycle shows green, spin up the engine while drawing from the fuel cells.
Auxiliary and Cell units green, rev the engine.
Cycle shows green across the board.
Logan let out a chuckle at seeing the procedure all fall into place. Slower than they had shown him, but not bad for a ground-pounder. Out in front of the ship the digital display showed the exhaust of the other ships departing the hangar ahead of him. He keyed the comms and radioed his status.
"Red leader, Red five, ready for takeoff, over."
The reply came back well-practiced with a tinge of static overlay.
"Red five, you are cleared for take off, over."
Logan grasped the joystick, and racked the G-Diffuser's engage lever. The whole cockpit shuddered, and the Ion Drive at the rear of his ship came alight with a fierce crimson. The teen grit his teeth as he felt the straps dig into him while the hanger flew past in a blur, until there was only the open expanse of stars in front of his dashboard.
It was incredible.
The expanse of space was colored by distant nebulae and planets, with pinpricks of shimmering diamond spread across the heavens. There was the beautiful green and blue watercolor of Corneria looming in the distance, and the light of red Solar shining further on. The orange hue of Papetoon could be seen opposite, and the HUD(heads up display) illustrated the distance to the asteroid belt beyond.
In space, a ship can maneuver in any direction. Orienting one's path in absolute 3-Dimensional territory can be difficult, so digital markers would hover over other ships and landmarks based on an FOF(friend or foe) tag. Now, Logan saw color-coded inverted triangles denoting each of his friends as they flew about outside their carrier. The targeting console framed a set of green reticules that indicated his laser trajectory, and when he toggled his SMART bombs the secondary reticule took their place and glowed red. To the left, he could chart a diagnostic screen that listed his ship systems and status. This would also allow him to reroute power or modify his settings based on damage taken or mission parameters. To the right, the communications console would toggle his in-flight team, cycle among them as they contacted him or vice versa, and connect to other stations based on frequency. He toggled Falco and the avian's blue/red feathered face lit up the screen.
"I take it all back, this, is the real way to jump off a spaceship."
Falco howled with laughter.
"Knew you'd love it man. Me? I was born for this. Ain't never felt more at home than in a cockpit. You're totally free out here."
Logan couldn't help himself and started laughing too. The rush of being in control of a spacecraft and rocketing through the black was out of this world. He took his craft through a series of turns, then tried spinning in an aileron roll, before looping back in a U-turn.
"Not bad human. Totally sloppy form, but we'll help you work on it," came the self-assured tone of the group's leader.
Jones keyed the team comm, "Appreciate it Fox!"
It didn't bother him that the others were much better pilots. They had been practicing for ages together, while he was just starting out on training wheels. Still, it was a world he'd never imagined. The craft they were flying were only digital replicas of the Cornerian C16s that occupied most trainee halls and mothball central. It still beat the hell out of a Longsword Interceptor that was for sure, and for less than a third of the size too.
A blinking green triangle with an 'M' denoted Miyu as she sidled up alongside his fighter. The canopy view showed her own cockpit alongside his, and her feline features captured by camera looking towards him across the VR field.
"You're pretty good at this, I'm surprised." Came the sassy remark. Logan smiled as he say her ears twitching in that telltale tic she was kidding around.
"Guess I'm good for something after all, huh?" He joked across direct comm to her.
She smiled over in her ship and stuck out her tongue. Logan replied in kind and they both laughed.
There was a comfortable quiet as the training went on behind them.
"I didn't want my parents to sign up for the exchange you know." She said, breaking the silence.
The human looked over to her, "You didn't?"
"No, I thought it was weird and I was worried for Abby." There was a reluctance to the feline's words.
"..."
"I'm glad it was you."
Logan looked back, and met Miyu's blue eyes as she gazed with her chin in her palm, leaning back lazily against her seat.
He swallowed, suddenly feeling tightness in his chest, and a bit lightheaded.
"I'm glad it was your family that welcomed me."
She smiled in that feline fashion, her teeth a hint of white between the barest pink of her lips.
"You've been really nice, they like you a lot."
A mischievous mood took him, and he spoke before he knew what he was saying.
"Do you?"
The Lynx stared at him across the inky expanse between their ships, through the armored glass of their starfighters. She held up her palm and blew him a kiss with a playful wink.