Location: The Seaman's Bar
John Krasnodębski downed another glass of orange juice, as an aerial guard pilot, drinking alcohol was about as good an idea as sticking your hand into a running jet turbine. He was spending most of his time twiddling his thumbs together. There wasn't much he could do as a pilot, not here at least. The only planes that flew over LA airspace were only the supersonic jet liners and the passing troop transport, Not to mention not any enemy fighters. The nearest enemy air base was at least six thousand miles away in the west and another six thousand miles in the east. So there wasn't much of his caliber to do here. He played just about every flight simulator known to man that he could get his hands on, but it was nothing like the real thing.
The highlight of his time here was doing training exercises, and flying around over L.A to conduct 'aerial security' for whatever the hell that was worth. The guy he was protecting was one of board members of the Western Division of the United Aerospace Corporations. It seemed most of the other pilots and soldiers on the base he was stationed at were there for the same reason. That only left one question in his mind:
What the hell got the higher-ups so nervous to send this many men to protect their asses? Did that assassination attempt on Qurban really get them all worked up so much? It's not like the terrorists would strike during a heightened state of awareness after all. If they really could even strike a blow like that in North America of all places, why wouldn't they have done it already? Why blow your load on some out-of-the-way governor if you could strike at the heart of Terra itself?
But whatever happened to scare the higher ups like this, it meant only one thing for John: being stuck here far away from the action. For now, he only had air patrols to look forward to for the next few weeks and there wasn't much he could do about it. "Air patrols pfft" John said to himself, what did he think was going to happen, Russian or Chinese wastelanders paradropping over Interstate 5? Bunch of spineless faceless assholes.
And as he took another drink of his juice, and rubbed his eyes, he was greeted with the thickest Irish accent he'd ever heard. "Oy, who orders juice at a pub, ya fookin nonce." John turned his head in time to see a muscular redhead down a whole ass bottle of vodka in one go. "What the actual fuck?" John thought to himself. The red head wiped the clear yet very potent liquid from her mouth "ohhh" she said pointing to the Air Force symbol on his leather jacket "We gotta fly boy ere ey?"
"Yeah, what about it?" John was honestly just amazed she was still on her feet after downing a whole thing of vodka, much more that she could actually identify an airforce symbol in her state. "Ahh, what you fly boys even do when you ain't droppin off us army girls ey? Just watching as we do all the fun work?" The Irish woman said laughing.
"Well, we haven't gotten much action since we bombed the main soviet remnants to ash and cinder." John admitted. "That and we've been working with designs that were made before any of us were born."
"Ey at least the pencil pushers know where the money's needed, your old tinker boxes are all ya need when you got our steel."
John couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't need much more when you got our skill." He said as he pulled out a chair next to him. 'Eyyy, tough guy here, "the woman chuckled, sitting next to him.
"Name's Katherine. But you can just call me Khan." She related.
"Pfft Khan?" Katherine bopped him on the head.
"Yes wise guy, Khan, Katherine Cataline Khan, it's me name."
"Sounds Spanish."
"Buddy I'm an Irish Mongolian, my ethnic mix is as weird as it gets, and it still has no Spanish,"
John laughed softly under his juice. "I know the feeling. Name's Johnathan Antonio Krasnodębski." He proclaimed.
Khan started to laugh at this, putting her hand over her mouth.
"What?!" John whined.
"And you say my name sounds weird?! Your name sounds like your parents slept on a keyboard."
John couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, when your Polish and Spanish parents decide to move to the East Coast- they tend to give their kid an actual normal first name before going all homeland for the last parts."
"Ahhh, Polish, that explains it."
"Well, my father wanted my name to be Janek- but my mom talked some sense into him."
"So what's a flyboy like you doing in a place like this? Aren't you supposed to be in the anarchy zones and bombing people?" Khan asked, grabbing a bottle of beer from the counter.
"I wish! Some idiots got it in their head that they need a whole damn air guard for some military corporate figure. Like what? Do they think some wasteland radicals are gonna hijack an intercontinental bomber or something just to hit this one guy?"
"Ugh," Khan groaned as she grabbed her drink and gulped it down. "I know the feeling. I'm tasked with protecting some big shot's brat. A fookin insult if you're tellin me." She spouted off, taking a swig of the ever decreasing amount of beer in her bottle.
"Pfft, this'll blow over, then I get to go out in the field again. At least when I hit leave it's a lot more fun. Let me tell you, Japan is fuckin dull. There was not much to do there, and social norms were a pain in the ass to navigate. Every visitor was looked at funny, it was unnerving. Don't even get me started on the anime fans over there." John cringed at the memories, "fucking weirdos those lot."
"But at least there you weren't getting shot at."John said, taking a swig
"Well to each their own." Khan said, moving her hand forward to grab her bottle of beer. "I on the other hand LOVE, being shot at, gets that adrenaline pumping wouldn't you say?"
Almost as if Khan's words were viewed as a challenge to some divine power: a ripple formed in the beer of Khan's bottle. As she watches, the water in the glasses vibrates, making concentric circles, then it stops.
And then it vibrates again. Rhythmically. Like from footsteps. Or… something else.
"Now what's all this shite? I'm not that drunk yet!"
"Eh, it's LA, earthquakes are about as common as get here"
Suddenly, the inaudible boom was reverberated from far away- making its way as a small poof.
"... Ok that is not what earthquakes sound like"
"No fucking shite fly boy!"
Suddenly, the shakes were not just affecting beer, now it was making the ground shake with an erratic pattern- with the booms becoming louder. The patrons in the bar were now pulled away from their own worlds, with the bustling bar becoming quiet.
"The fuck are you doing?!" A sailor in a blue leather uniform called out, standing up. "Turn on the fucking news!"
The barstool scrambled as he tried to find the remote to the television, before finding it greased up through the years and changing the channel from a baseball game to the local news channel.
"-we're trying to confirm reports of intense gunshots and explosives-" The female newscaster in a purple work uniform worried, as the news station shook "Hang on, I think we're getting a visual-" the camera panned over to images of a shaking camera capturing orange explosions bellowing from cars and the street filled with flaming craters as swathes of people ran past each other to try to escape from whatever was going on.
And from the explosions- a monster figure emerged. It was seemingly a dark and feather figure- exuding some kind of black and red energy that was tearing through the paved streets of the city of angels. With a keen eye through the shaky images- a form of leathery crimson skin, wings tipped with sharp claws emerge from its back, and his refined orange beak morphs into a savage fanged maw, with its hands become bestial talons, maintaining little of his mortal elegance.
"VIA!" The blackened figure yelled out, as explosions ripped around him. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Suddenly two suited figures sitting in the corner of the bar threw down the cards they were playing and jumped out of their chairs, rushing for the exit. The rest of the bar only stood up in fear, looking at the TV with intention unlike that had been seen since the New York Proclamation.
John slammed down a crumbled set of bills before turning to his new 'friend'. "You have a car?!"
"A motorcycle! You need to get somewhere?" She quipped, quickly standing up.
"I need you to get me to LAX! I don't know what this is but I need to get to the brass, Can you make it?"
"Oh please, I wasn't even on my 3rd bottle yet"
John gulped anxiously, but it wasn't like he had many options "Alright, alright, let's just get going!"
Khan dragged John by the arm with surprising strength as they burst through the door, into the frontal lot. As they stepped outside, they knew that this wasn't just another gang attack. Black smoke billowed from downtown LA, as the ever increasing booms and shaking were making their way over to them- or rather the airbase.
"Oh my god," John said in a near panic as he put his hands on his head, as the rest of the bar emptied out to their own modes of transport. "What the hell is going on?!"
"Big monster attacks Einstein, what more do you want to know? Now let's what we gotta get before the rest of the army boys get a piece of the action" Khan said, her voice seemingly lacking any sort of audio control.
"How are you taking this so well?!"
"Were you not listening to fly boy!? I live for getting shot at! Now get your ass in gear!"
Once more dragging the hapless fighter pilot along with her towards a motorcycle he could only assume… or hope, was hers. Gunshots and explosions could be heard from a way aways as Khan hopped on the back, with John sitting himself behind her.
"Might wanna grab onto something, speed limits are going to more like speed suggestions"
"We're not going to be getting any tickets if we don't stop whatever's downtown! Punch it!"
"Music to my fuckin ears!"
Khan revved up the engine, zipping down the road down the road at speeds that would make any traffic cop have a heart attack. John was holding on for dear life, only hoping that Khan was truly sober enough to be operating the vehicle.
The ground began to shake more and more as the booms- no, explosions were now ripping downtown. In the sidewalks were people of all walks rushing past each other, trying desperately to get the hell out of whatever was causing everything.
John found the courage to look behind where they were going, even more smoke was rising from the city. A purple field descended across the sky, for what purpose he has no idea, and what looked like zeppelins dropping bombs on various parts of the city. "We're under attack!" John yelled.
"No shit sherlock!" Khan yelled
"No Khan, this isn't just some Monster, We are ACTUALLY being invaded"
John's heart skipped a beat as he watched Khan turn her head from the road for a split Second to look behind her. At speeds like this? That was a bigger fright than a hundred russian SAM missiles.
"Fuck…" Khan cringed "Who… who the fuck could even do this? With fucking blimps" Khan's voice became more angered.
"I swear to whatever higher power there may be fly boy, but if you don't pop those balloons I'm going to personally beat your ass" Khan blustered.
"Haaaa…. Noted" John quipped nervously, he was not confident that she was joking.