Explosions rocked the base and jets roared overhead— not that she could hear much. She leaned up against the concrete of the brig to try to catch the slightest tremor of sound in the thick walls, but all she got was nothingness.
The guard was hunkering down on the other side of the cell, weapon ready in case she tried to pull anything. Apparently, the sturdy construction of the basement made it safer there than out in the hallway.
Nicole sat there nervously, eyeing the large rifle the man carried with him. "Sooo," she said, tapping a finger against the wall. "Wonderful weather we're having."
"Very funny, Miss."
Wait, she thought. Is he chuckling? Did he actually mean that?
"But the weather was nicer before the bombs started dropping," the guard said, completely deadpan.
Nicole chuckled. "I think you're right."
As she started to count pockmarks in the wall, an unfamiliar banging on the steel door woke her out of her trance. It wasn't the orderly three-one pattern of knocks that the man from Intel always used. This was someone else, and as an officer poked his head through the tiny window in the heavy slab, the guard jolted to his feet and unlocked the cell. "Lieutenant Colonel," the guard said, saluting. "At ease-" The officer was interrupted by the sound and tremors of an explosion as the blinding fluorescent lights of the brig flickered. The man turned his sights on the defector.
"I'm here to see you," he said. He pointed up at the ceiling, where the Federation's bombs had so kindly converted their boring old fluorescent tubes into strobe lights. "As you can tell, we have a bit of a situation."
She raised an eyebrow. "A bit? How much is a bit? Because I have no idea how this fight is going beyond turning my cell into a rave."
"There's twenty bandits, and we had eight pilots on alert. They scrambled and splashed four Federation planes, but they got three of our pilots as well." The officer sighed. "We just took this base last week. There aren't many combat-capable pilots here."
"...Who's left? You don't mean?" Her brows furrowed, beginning to realize what he was about to ask her.
"Yes, unfortunately. I do. You were yelling at me in the mess hall, weren't you?" The man had a pained expression on his face, as if his better instincts were yelling at him not to do this.
"And you're telling me you trust me?"
"To be perfectly candid," the base commander sighed. "No. I do not. But it's not like I have much of a choice."
"There's no other pilots?" IRIS sounded skeptical. "Nobody at all?"
"The other squadron based here is on mission right now."
"Oh." She walked towards the door before jumping back as the guard raised his rifle up.
"There's a catch," the officer said.
Ugh. Of course. "Yeah?" She cocked her head, inquisitive.
"If you want to see the light of day again until we get a proper interrogator on base… You are not landing until you've bagged five Feds. Got it?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"You were a Peacekeeper. I know you've got it in you," the officer, whose name tag read CAMARDA, stared daggers at her. "I've seen the markings on the side of your plane. Cascadian roundel and seven planes. You want me to trust you?" He laughed. "Good fucking luck. But put up five Fed kills and you'll be on the right track. Make ace from your own former comrades. Then maybe I'll believe you when you say one of the Feds' most valuable pilots defected."
Most valuable? She scoffed. I wouldn't put it that way. Not our squadron, anyways.
"That's a lot of kills," she said. "Over half of what I've already got."
"You want your freedom or what?"
"Is that on the table?"
"No. But perhaps a contract is. You do this, and I'll get you an audience with the recruitment liaison to arrange terms." Lieutenant Colonel Camarda crossed his arms.
"Hmph."
"This is the best deal you're gonna get, Lieutenant Khoury."
"Fine." She shrugged, scowling. "Send me up. I'll get you your five kills."
"That's the spirit," the Lieutenant Colonel broke into a smile. "Airman, escort her to the hangar before there's nobody left up there to reinforce."