Chapter 8 - None Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Almost a month had passed since the Osean Air Force had launched a series of airstrikes on Belkan positions across the Great Lakes region, reducing a fair portion of the Belkan Air Force's forces to charred metal and scorched rubber, whilst a number of Naval strikes had damaged the Belkan naval forces in the docks, at the mouth of the Wyvern River.
That escalation had also had another, rather more unintended consequence: the airspace along the corridor known as Airway 26-10 was far busier than it had ever been before now. Traffic that had formerly passed unmolested across the Great Lakes was subject to interception by both sides; though Belka had been the far more prevalent responder, even probing close to the published airway on at least one occasion. Belka had apologised, and suggested that Osean jamming aircraft had caused the pilot to veer off course dangerously, but few, if any, people actually believed that to be the case...
Despite the tensions and the sabre rattling between Osea and Belka though, things hadn't really changed much for anyone. Both countries still shared a land border after all - though the way they were talking at the moment, you could be forgiven for thinking that they'd sooner try to change the geography of the continent than, say, admit fault for their own actions.
''Kestrel 2901, good evening. You are cleared to maintain flight level three five zero, and maintain your current heading. Contact when passing ADBAT.''
''Roger, 2901. Will call back when passing ADBAT.''
An Osean International Airways Boeing 707 making it's way from Stafford City, in the south of the Osean Federation, to Juliet Point, on Wellow; Kestrel 2901 was just another flight that evening, one of tens that the young controller would be handling during his shift, and his attention would soon shift onto another flight entering the initial contact phase, around fifty nautical miles north of Rutherford - an Air Ustio Ilyushin Il-62 en route to Oured.
''Uhh, good evening. Ustio 668, we are, err, cruising at 310.''
''Ustio 668, we have you on radar. Continue cruise on current course. Traffic is at 2 o'clock low, a Boeing 747, callsign Kestrel 013.''
''Understood, 668. Continue cruise, watch for traffic at our two low.'' The crew radioed back, and his attention moved again onto another aircraft; the aforementioned 747.
''Kestrel 013, traffic is an Air Ustio Ilyushin-62 at your ten o'clock, high. Contact when you have visual on them.''
''Roger, Kestrel 013. We have a visual on traffic.'' The jumbo jet's crew responded, only for their message to partially muddled by static. ''Uhh, Rutherford, (indecipherable) off our ten, right?''
''Roger, Kestrel, traffic is at your ten o'clock.'' Without thinking, the young controller moved onto a potential traffic conflict in the north-eastern quadrant, a Sapinish DC-9 and an Aurelian Boeing 737 that were soon closing towards each other.
If he'd taken note of the puzzled tone of the jumbo jet's call, he would've soon noticed that the Il-62 was no longer heading due west, as it should've been, but was now badly off course, heading north-west and approaching a restricted zone over the Great Lakes...
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Onboard the Ilyushin, the flight was a relatively calm affair as the crew settled in for the cruise. The flight to Oured was only a short two hour shuttle service, and as it was every night, the four engined aircraft was packed - every seat had been taken up, and the plane had nearly reached its maximum take off weight with the passengers and their luggage.
''Ahh.'' The captain, Hermann, groaned as he leant back. The Il-62 may have been a rugged and dependable workhorse, but its crew comfort was sorely lacking in comparison to the equivalent Osean jets he'd seen parked in Oured. He'd briefly considered asking the crew on the Kestrel flight whether he could come with them instead, simply for the creature comforts those Boeings offered!
''Glad we only have to go to Oured... can you imagine taking this to Cinigrad!''
''Don't give them ideas Viktor!'' The navigator laughed along, as he continued to plot their course on the map. Normally, his job would be to fly the shortest course possible to Oured, but thanks to the storm currently battering Oured, they'd been advised by operations to take a longer route that would take them over the Great Lakes, before a sweeping turn towards Oured Bay, and then to Oured itself.
They couldn't say they were thrilled with the option, aware that their path would take them rather close to where both the OADF and the Belkan Air Force were conducting operations, a risky prospect for a civilian airliner, especially considering how trigger happy both sides seemed to be at that moment...
''Rutherford, Ustio Six-six-eight, requesting a left turn to, err, one-eight-zero degrees.'' The call went unanswered, to the annoyance of the radio operator. ''Rutherford, this is Ustio Six-six-eight, did you receive our last?'' He asked once again... to no reply. ''They must be on their tea break...'' He muttered in frustration.
''Mikhael, have they gotten back yet?''
''No, I'm trying to raise them on the back up frequency too, but no contact.''
''Understood. Keep trying, Mikhael, we will continue to watch our course.'' Hermann instructed as he looked at his instruments. The plane was stable at 31,000ft, and continuing on a course of 300 degrees... ''Hans, our course? It should be 260, shouldn't it?''
''Yes, 260, why?''
''We have drifted then. Current heading is 300. Hans, work out where we might be - assume we were on course at the last waypoint.''
''Understood.'' Silence ruled over the cockpit for the next few minutes, broken only by the mutterings of the navigator as he worked out their position... ''Oh hell!''
''Where are we?''
''I think... I think we have strayed into the restricted airspace, sir!''
''Shit! What heading back!''
''Turn err, ninety degrees, we need to get out of here!''
With little by way of warning, an explosion tore through the the Ilyushin and rocked it violently, whilst the calm air inside the jet tore through a hole somewhere in the plane, whipping up in a cacophony of swirling air, mist and a howling gale as it rushed backwards. Any unsecured charts were pulled into the air, dragged to the rear wall of the cockpit, whilst the captain wrenched the controls to the right, desperately fighting the plane's new habit of banking sharply to the left...
''What the hell was that!?''
''We've lost number two! Cabin pressure's dropping rapidly too!'' The explosion had not only tore the air in the cockpit from them, but even some of the dials had come loose too. ''Hell, number one's failing too!''
''Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Ustio 668, we are... we have a dual engine failure, and we are depressurised. We need to land immediately!''
''Unidentified aircraft, this is the Belkan Air Force. You are intruding on restricted airspace. You will follow us... or the next shot will not be a warning shot.'' A distinctively Belkan voice announced, and the captain looked outside, just besides them. A metallic glint, that of a Belkan MIG-21 interceptor, with its pilot making hand signals to them - the signals to follow the interceptor.
''Bastards, we are civilian! What heading is Osean airspace?''
''Captain...'' The co-pilot seemed very hesitant at the implication.
''We won't make it. Osean airspace is at least ten minutes away, they will have shot us down before then...''
''Damn it! Head for the border anyway!'' Unbeknownst to him, that one act of defiance would go down in history as the discarded match that lit the fuse of war...
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Asuna had learnt one thing over the past week - she really did not like Quick Reaction Alert duties.
Despite the high stress levels of everyone involved, there was a constant sense of boredom throughout the entire thing; an itch that couldn't be tempered either, as she was needed to be in the cockpit of Wind Fleuret, and ready to take off, in only two minutes from alert.
It was physically demanding, mentally demanding, and most importantly... unimaginably boring.
It was rare that anything happened to warrant a QRA launch, and Asuna knew that. The only things that justified a QRA launch were incoming bombers, or an in flight emergency that required immediate assistance... neither of which were particularly common, the first having been dealt with briefly, by disabling Rhinemartial, whilst the second was a circumstance with a probability that could be described, charitably in her opinion, as "almost never".
As Black Blade had been assigned all of today's duties, they'd drawn lots to see who would take which duties - herself and Koharu taking the late evening duty, which involved sitting in a shack, not far from the edge of the taxiway.
After about an hour of sitting in what could only be described as an awkward silence, with momentary interruptions, the two girls had begun chatting, and both had found an almost uncanny amount of similarities in their circumstances; both had little, to no experience in gaming - something that had shocked Asuna, when she realised she had more experience on that frontier than Koharu, the black haired girl's only prior gaming experience being a mobile game almost a decade earlier - and had taken a dive into Full Dive as a way of getting some degree of rest from family expectations.
They would've had a deeper discussion, but the QRA seemed to choose its moment perfectly, and took the briefest of moments to make itself known.
"Alert! Alert! Launch Procedures Active!" bellowed through the base, and almost deafened them in the shack.
She just had to say how boring it was, didn't she?
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Air traffic control had informed them of the situation as they began their take off roll: An Air Ustio Ilyushin Il-62 had strayed out of its planned route, and into the Belkan Air Defence Zone known as Area B5P, before they'd realised their mistake and made a run for the friendly airway...
That hadn't gone quite so well, and civilian air traffic controllers at Rutherford had noticed the Air Ustio flight with a pair of radar signatures following it; no doubt Belkan interceptors, probably MIGs of some kind, and clearly not willing to let their target slip away. As they climbed out from Rechlin, the two girls had decided on their course of action. Asuna's Lightning was the faster aircraft by far, and as a result, she would take the lead in reaching the developing situation, whilst Koharu's Hunter was strictly subsonic in the climb, and so would be at least a few minutes behind her.
''Goldeneye, Black Blade Two, distance to target?''
''We have the aircraft at twenty-five miles. You'll be closing from its seven o'clock.'' In full afterburner, she knew that she would not have long on station, the Lightning, even with overwing tanks equipped, having a rather miserable combat radius, meaning that she had two options - decelerate to subsonic speeds, where the fuel consumption would be lower, but take longer to reach the operational area, or continue at just over the speed of sound, and hope the emergency didn't require a long flight... and if what she was seeing was the plane, well, she was certain it wasn't going to be a long flight.
''Black Blade Two, I have a visual on the aircraft.'' Asuna called, as she watched the orange streak against the night sky in the distance. She wasn't sure exactly how far away it was, but it certainly wasn't a good sign that she could already see the fire, but not the plane...
''You already have a visual on it? You're still almost twenty miles out!'' The ground controller called in surprise.
''It's hard not to see the trail, Goldeneye.'' Asuna responded, squinting slightly at the night sky as she continued to close the distance towards the fighters that were attempting to tail it. ''I'm approaching weapons range, but...''
''The fighters are far too close to the airliner to use missiles on, and those Firestreaks will just target the airliner given the fire.'' Alice summarised from the ground, no doubt looking over the radar set in the tower.
''Asuna, I can assist the airliner when I get there, see if you can get the fighters attention first?'' Koharu suggested. ''I'm not too far out, maybe two minutes at most.''
''I understand. Black Blade Two, I'll draw the fighters away.'' Asuna fiddled with the radio set in Wind Fleuret's cockpit, adjusting the frequency to the international standard frequency, in order to raise the pair of fighters behind Flight 668. ''Belkan aircraft, this is Black Blade Two of the Osean 23rd Fighter Squadron. Turn back towards Belkan airspace, or you will be fired upon. The aircraft you are engaging is a civilian aircraft, and continued attacks will be treated as a violation of the Open Skies agreement. Am I clear?'' She changed her voice to a far more authoritative tone, one befitting of someone ordering others to their whim.
''Verpiss dich, Ozean schwein!'' Came the reply, shouted down his radio. Asuna didn't speak any German, but she could tell from infliction that what was said was far from a polite acknowledgement of her instructions.
''Umm, what did they just say?'' Koharu asked, a clear sense of trepidation in her voice.
Alice's voice didn't exactly reassure them both when she answered. '' ''Go to hell!''... basically.''
''Wasn't quite that polite, was it?'' She asked, already aware of the answer.
''You could say that, yes.'' Alice answered, her voice more steely. ''I would assume they do not plan to leave without a downed airliner, at the very least.''
''Black Blade flight, instructions from Air Defence Command - the fighters are priority targets. Engage and destroy them at all costs.''
''Goldeneye, shouldn't priority be on the airliner! The people on there are depending on us!'' Koharu protested, clearly incensed by the suggestion that a pair of fighters were more important than the hundreds of people aboard the plane. On one hand, Asuna agreed with her wholeheartedly; they were absolutely more important than a brief airspace violation. On the other though, there was no chance they'd turn back without some application of force, and if focusing on the pair of MIGs was the required level of force to allow Flight 668 to land safely, then she was understanding of that fact.
''Koharu, those fighters need to be dealt with first, or at least taken out of the picture, else they won't be able to land safely.'' Alice pointed out, summarising her point much more succinctly than she had.
''Black Blade Two, instructions are understood. MIGs are to be dealt with first and foremost. Black Blade Three, keep the airliner safe when you get here, I'll drag the MIGs back towards the missile batteries at the south of the Lakes.''
''Understood, Black Blade Three.''
During Operatic Society, she'd managed to get enough credits to upgrade from the absolutely hopeless Firestreak missiles that her Lightning had initially had equipped, upgrading to a new weapon - the Red Top. On paper, its performance did look superior, with an increase in manueverability, range and targeting parameters. Unfortunately, the Red Top still shared many features with the Firestreak, despite its improvements, namely that it was next to useless in cloud cover - something she'd found rather amusing, considering the weapons were designed in Britain, known for its inclement weather - and that it had an unfortunate tendency to decide that whatever was straight ahead of it was an ideal target... even if there was nothing ahead of it.
On one trial run, she'd even managed to lock the missile onto the sun, rather than the dummy target. Needless to say, her faith in the missiles was not highly measured...
Asuna readied her twin cannons, knowing that any attack near the airliner would have to be unguided weapons, lest they gain a lock on the wrong target... and given the propensity of her new Red Tops to target the sun, rather than any specific targets, the last thing she wanted to do was to give them an enormous heat source directly ahead of them...
Closing the distance, she doubted she could take both MIGs out in a single pass, but she could at least force them to chase her, and pull them away from the stricken airliner. Three miles to the target however, the airliner began to enter a steep bank to its left, and to her amazement, one of the MIGs overshot the jet as it failed to slow down in time. Quickly, she readied up the Red Top to launch, and fired on the stray interceptor. Beside her, the missile detached from its chin pylon and blasted into the night sky ahead of her, the missile covering the distance to the MIG in less time than it had taken her to even blink, whilst the direct hit from the Red Top had filled the sky up with a flash of light, and burning shrapnel, in place of what had once been a MIG-21...
''Uhh, Black Blade Two, I have a kill. One MIG downed.'' Even she seemed slightly stunned as to just how quick the engagement had been; less than a second from the button press, to the metal confetti in front of her...
She snapped back to reality, and spotted the second MIG, who was now very aware of her presence - thanks to the explosion in the night sky that had once been his wingman - and beginning to turn back to get onto her tail. She wasn't going to let that happen, that was certain! With almost no hesitation, Asuna pulled back on her control column, and Wind Fleuret snapped into a tight 5G turn to the left to intercept the solo MIG.
On her current path, she knew that she'd pass just in front of the MIG's nose, a really bad place to find herself, given the MIG-21 had a cannon, or at least the ones she'd seen so far had all had cannons. A discussion with Kirito had revealed that some of the Belkan MIGs did indeed lack any form of cannon, but it was difficult to identify those during a dogfight in broad daylight, let alone against the night sky! She wasn't willing to assume it wasn't cannon armed, as Argo had told her of an old saying: ''if you assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.'', a clear warning about assuming things.
As she closed, she pulled Wind Fleuret back to wings level, unloading the forces on the wings and giving the MIG pilot a slightly smaller target as she passed, as only the side profile of the aircraft was visible instead of the full silhouette. She just had to hope she'd survive the initial pass, and get on the MIGs tail in the second pass of the scissors, in order to score a gun kill; the remaining Red Top being a rather ineffective weapon in a dogfight.
As she passed, the MIG didn't fire on her, and to her surprise, didn't continue to turn towards her, but rather head back towards Belkan airspace. That had caught her off guard, and she briefly paused, before calling back. ''Goldeneye, the second MIG is retreating.''
''Understood. Orders are still to destroy it.'' Asuna paused again, this time thinking about the order she was given. The MIG was fleeing, and no longer a threat... was it fair to shoot it down? It was no better than letting someone run away, and shooting them dead whilst they had their back turned! Granted, it wasn't quite that brutal, as in this case the MIG could still turn back and shoot her, but it still felt unpleasant to her...
Despite this, she pulled Wind Fleuret onto the tail of the fleeing MIG, and opened up the throttles to keep up. After a few seconds, the MIG pilot must have decided he wanted to be rid of her, snapping the MIG into a diving right turn to throw her off. No chance of that, she thought to herself, her Lightning easily keeping up with the fighter in the turn towards the ground. Even if she could easily keep up the turn, she suffered from one problem, namely that she couldn't get the nose into a firing position. When using her guns, Kirito had taught her how to use her gunsight properly to lead the twin ADENs in her nose, and make the best of the high velocity cannon. Despite her instincts to just hold down the trigger, she had to preserve her ammo; she only carried 120 rounds between the pair of guns, and with weapons that had a rate of fire of 1200 rounds per minute, she'd have only three seconds of fire...
Before she could reach a firing solution though, a warning alarm came on in her cockpit; an alarm that caused immense dread in any pilot... the terrain warning alarm. Instinctively, she unloaded the wings and pulled back hard to raise the nose before herself and Wind Fleuret became one with the earth. The MIG pilot, on the other hand, had not been so lucky and had seemingly made no effort to pull up before his plane demonstrated why water was just as dangerous to plow into at high speed, as a geyser of water rose from where it'd crashed just behind her, shaking the Lightning slightly. Asuna looked back over her wing, and realised just how close to the water she was... she was now leaving a wake on the surface as flew across it at Mach 1.2!
Pulling back on the throttles, she felt something bothering her - No.2 was sluggish to respond, and seemed to be losing more power than it should. It wasn't a critical failure... yet, but it was certainly enough of a handicap that she could've done without. Adding into that, she reckoned she now had a fuel leak - likely some shrapnel from the crashed MIG, but it was enough to turn a handicap into a problem. ''Two, I've got something wrong on engine two, and I've got a fuel leak.''
''Asuna, head back to base. Koharu, if you need help, Alice is ready to scramble at your call.'' Goldeneye told her, and she acknowledged. Knowing that her plane was damaged, she handled it as delicately as she could, remembering her first flight, and the... erm, fiery end that Wind Fleuret I had met.
''Understood. I should be able to handle it.'' Koharu responded.
''Koharu, good luck.'' She looked back to the blazing fireball that had been an Ilyushin, and she really hoped that all of this wasn't in vain...
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Arriving at the airliner, Koharu glanced over the plane. In the dark night sky, it would usually have been hard to tell anything that wasn't the aircraft's silhouette or that wasn't lit by the external lights, but with the raging inferno towards the back, the aircraft was well lit up. The aircraft's unusual quad tail mounted engines had certainly seen better days, as the fire poured out of the rear of engine number 2, and around the nacelle of engine number 1 as well. Beneath the aircraft, a hole had opened up, possibly where the missile had scored a hit or where the explosive decompression had blasted through a weaker area in the plane.
''Black Blade Three, Ustio 668. Damage is very bad. Engines 1 and 2 are on fire, there's a hole in the rear of the plane, and I think there's fire in the cabin.''
''Oh god.'' Came a slightly distressed call from the crew of Flight 668, as they took note of what she had told them, before the radio operator settled himself. ''Understood Three. We are, err... we need directions to the nearest runway.''
''Black Blade Three, Goldeneye. Can we land it at Rechlin?''
''The runway should be long enough for an Il-62, Koharu.'' Alice answered, with barely a moment's hesitation.
''Okay then, 668, are you still there?''
''We are still here, only barely though. Our controls are... well, we only barely have any. We have roll, and very limited pitch control. We do not have yaw, and our engines are struggling...''
''They really are in a bad way...'' The blonde girl muttered to herself, only barely audible above the static. ''668, have you tried to fight the fire?''
''Engines one and two fire suppression is active, but it does not seem to be working.''
''Koharu, are the engines...'' Even before she'd finished the question, Koharu could tell her the answer.
''Heavily. I can only barely see the engines in the fire, Alice...''
''Do we have a vector to a runway?'' She heard someone ask in the cockpit.
''668, can you turn to heading 270, for a straight in approach?'' Alice asked, an uncertainty in her voice at the new task of air traffic control.
''We're trying!'' Someone yelled, before a silence fell over the radio. Only eight minutes had passed since they'd rendezvoused with the stricken Il-62, but for Koharu, it felt so much longer. She knew what exhaustion had felt like flying, reminding herself of her training session that had ended in being lifted from her cockpit, unable to even so much as stand after that.
This though, was far worse than just physical exhaustion. The mental exhaustion from juggling three tasks at once was taking its toll; she had to keep her eye on the Ilyushin, whilst watching her own aircraft too, and acting as a radio relay for the ground control at Rechlin, whilst Asuna continued to keep the Belkan fighters away from herself and Flight 668. If the exhaustion was that bad for her, she couldn't imagine just how stressed the crew of the Ilyushin were, fighting to keep the plane aloft, battling ever mounting flames and failures by the second... ''Rechlin, how far to the runway?''
The voice of Goldeneye replaced Alice as the ground control. ''We have you at thirty miles south-east of the airfield, over Lake Elizabeth. Descending through 8000 feet.'' Koharu sighed at the news, knowing they were still at least five minutes from the ground. The fire that had been eating away at the engines was now visible through the windows of the airliner, slowly, but surely stalking its way forward through the cabin. It was a fate she wouldn't have wished on anyone, as smoke would've filled the cabin, incapacitating passengers and crew alike, and hopefully before the fire took hold of them...
In a moment where she could spare a thought to anything that wasn't the situation unfolding, she wondered whether her father would've done anything different in the situation. Maybe he could've figured out something that she'd missed, or maybe he'd have had some insight into what was unfolding. She spared a glance at the Il-62, and winced at what she was seeing - the lights in the aircraft had all but gone out, replaced by flickering light from the raging inferno inside, and even now, the gloss white airliner's rear section was scorched black, almost invisible against the night sky, with the exception of the roof between the four engines, which was glowing red hot, as the air around it began to distort...
She felt a cold chill through her entire core, and almost shouted into the radio, ''Ustio 668, the fire's almost melting the plane!''
''Ustio 668, our situation is-'' The crew were cut off, as their breathing got increasingly heavier, no doubt fighting the smoke, alongside battling with the plane's controls. ''Three and four, failing! Electrics are-'' The crew rasped, their voices cut off by the violent crackle of static. ''Oh christ, we're dying!'' Koharu couldn't say who said it, but she didn't need to know who'd said it to tell the muted fear in their voice. Their tone wasn't one of panic, but acceptance, as they realised that the situation was too dire to ever have a positive outcome. Seconds later, she watched as the fire took hold of the rear fuselage, the metal skin of the plane having disappeared, all but melted by the inferno...
She began to separate slightly from the Il-62, already knowing what was about to happen. ''Goldeneye, Ustio 668 is going down, the fire's gone through the rear fuselage...'' She steeled herself, feeling a couple of tears welling in her eyes as she watched the plane descended into the thin layer of clouds below them.
After only eight minutes and forty-three seconds, Flight 668 disappeared from her field of view, into the wisps below her. ''Ustio 668 is off radar, Blade Three. Do you have eyes on?''
''Negative, they're in the clo-'' She had only barely managed to get those words out before a bright orange flash lit up a cloud a few hundred feet from her, followed by an explosion that she could almost feel in her bones. ''Flight 668 has crashed... they-they just exploded...'' She stammered, trying to process what she'd just witnessed. Almost instinctively, she felt her grip tighten on her control column, as she fought to keep breathing steadily, and to regain her senses, against the ringing in her ears.
''Search and rescue assets are being scrambled as we speak. Black Blades, you are cleared to return to base...''
''Un-understood.''
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The next morning came around and despite the sleepless night, Asuna had decided she would go to search the crash site to help with the hunt for survivors.
If Asuna was tired from the small number of hours she'd slept, then she was positive that Koharu hadn't slept at all, and it showed. She'd been only barely there since she'd gotten out of her bunk, and almost stumbled to the jeep... "Do you think anyone survived?" Koharu asked rather meekly, as if she was terrified of being snapped at.
Far from being snapped at, an awkward silence hung over the four members of Black Blade as they each considered their responses. She'd witnessed the chaos beginning to unfold on Flight 668 before the dogfight and minor battle damage forced her back to Rechlin, and as morbid as it sounded, she hoped the people onboard hadn't survived; she hoped that they'd passed out from smoke inhalation some time before the final moments of the airliner and weren't conscious to experience the hell that Koharu had described to her. No one deserved to experience that, in her eyes.
"Prolly not, Ko-chan." Argo answered, before muttering something to herself that sounded like "or I hope the poor bastards din't.". She couldn't help but agree there, especially as the wreckage field came into view from the jeep.
The sand around the lake shore and some of the grass was scorched black, littered with craters where some parts of the aircraft had hit with considerable force, and scattered the earth in the resultant explosion. Besides the scorched earth and already present smell of smouldering jet fuel, alongside the small fires still burning, the most obvious thing that all of them noticed was just how completely the Ilyushin had been destroyed; it was hard to claim it was destroyed really, "annihilated" probably fit better, if she was honest.
The only hint that a plane had crashed rather than, say, a meteorite, was the remains of the vertical and horizontal stabilisers poking out of the shallow waters of Lake Elizabeth. The tail was scorched, the once red and white tail now a jet black mass of twisted metal, only passable for a tailplane at a glance. Any more than a glance, and she was concerned it would fall apart...
"What'cha thinkin', Kii-bou?"
"There's no chance that was intact when it came down. The tail would be as destroyed as the rest of the plane if it did. Koharu said she saw it explode, right?"
"Yeah? Ya think it wasn't an explosion, but the plane just gave up and snapped?"
"Explains the wide field, and she did say that the plane was hanging on by a thread."
Leaving the pair to continue debating the cause of the carnage, Asuna walked over to Koharu, who was sat beside an object on an otherwise unscathed patch of grass. As she got closer, she could see what was in the girl's hand: a singed and slightly torn teddy bear, with a few marks on its body.
"Th-this can't go unanswered, right? Someone has to be..."
"Punished fer this, right? Sad ta say, but these type 'a things don't usually end wit' the baddie rottin' in a cell somewhere. Usually just a "we're extremely sorry, now here's some cash, get lost." and it fades away eventually."
"Then why are we bothering?" She asked, not even looking up from the teddy bear. Another awkward silence fell across the group, as everyone tried to think of a rebuttal to that thought, yet none of them could easily explain why.
''Argo, can you take Koharu back to Rechlin?''
''I'm fine!'' For the first time, she heard the black haired girl raise her voice, which felt really out of character for the mild-mannered girl.
''No, you aren't, you're exhausted.'' Kirito snapped back. ''I get that you blame yourself for all of this, but it's not our job to seek justice. We are fighter pilots, not vigilantes! All that going off and shooting down the next Belkan fighter that strays even slightly over the border is going to achieve is starting a war even sooner than it already will!''
Koharu looked as if she wanted to say something, but either thought about it slightly more, or thought better of it. ''Okay.'' She walked away, and back toward the jeep, still keeping a sullen look. Argo followed quickly behind her. ''I'll mek sure she gets a bit 'a rest.''
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After a few hours of searching amongst the wreckage, Asuna came to a realisation - never mind finding survivors, she doubted that much actually remained of the plane, the largest piece they found being around the size of a small dinner table, whilst various bits of unidentified and possibly unidentifiable wreckage were bagged.
By lunchtime, the heavy removal teams had arrived, and the task of removing the wreckage of the tail section from the water began. It was a slow process, as the crane's crew did their best to make sure the wrecked structure didn't just break apart as it was lifted out from the water. She'd seen news reports of plane crashes when she was younger, and even footage of airliners that had been shot down, but they had always been destroyed to the same degree as the rest of Flight 668.
It was a horrific experience, to see something so massive, reduced to so little, and those reports could never do that level of horror justice; they could show what it was like, and tell you, but they couldn't replicate the heat that still lingered in the winter cold, or the ever present smell of jet fuel. Seeing it with your own eyes though... it was a horror that was too real. Too close to reality. Even Kayaba's speech about their new reality hadn't caused such a visceral reaction in them - that was a more existential horror, she reckoned, whilst this... this was something that real people had seen at some point, and that they'd have to live with.
A thought occurred to her. ''Was it like this in the beta?'' She asked, moving some piece of mangled bar out of the way.
''Like what?'' He replied, not looking up from the debris he was scouring through. The way he said it though, told her that either he was being deliberately dense, not wanting to really face what had happened, or that he really was that dense. The former was proven true only a few seconds later when he spoke again. ''I don't remember anything like this.'' Kirito admitted, as he moved a fragment of twisted metal into the area that was being used to clear up the wreckage for further investigation. ''Usually, we were just flying reconnaissance missions, or a few missions to strafe tanks. Back then, the first major mission was on New Year's Day, so we're already considerably ahead...''
''Wait, what happened - err, happens - on New Year's Day!?'' She asked, now slightly concerned for what could be about to happen...
''We had to help defend the carrier group in Oured Bay.'' Kirito explained, and she tried to picture where he was talking about. She remembered that Oured was the capital, but she could've sworn the map in the library showed Oured Bay heading inland... ''Nothing too out of the ordinary for an Ace Combat game, just destroy the bombers approaching the fleet.''
''So, no burning airliners then?''
''Don't actually think we ever saw an airliner in the beta...'' Kirito admitted, before adding to that point. ''Though, there were a few transports that had to be shot down, but they were always military. Can't say I enjoyed those missions... it's not like transport planes can really fight back.'' The one that was now lying in the sand, shattered into an unimaginable number of pieces, was a pretty good indicator of the dogfighting prowess of transport aircraft, especially when facing high speed fighters like theirs, she thought to herself.
''Hey! You two! Over here, we need some help moving some stuff.'' A rescue NPC called over to them, and they headed over.
Two yellow bags, markings obscured a little by the soot and smoke in the air were on the ground, were waiting for them. From the look on Kirito's face, he recognised twhat could be in them. The most sobering sight that they'd see was right in front of them: what remained of the 185 people onboard the jet... two yellow body bags.
Not two hundred, but two 2-metre by 1-metre bags were all that remained of the occupants. She was actually glad that Kirito had ordered Koharu back to Rechlin, because that sight had took them all a while to get over; it was the single most bitter pill they'd had to swallow so far, a true reminder of their failure. Even Kirito, admittedly not the most talkative of people on a good day, had gone almost completely silent, save for his hitched breathing, with his eyes briefly as wide as they could reasonably be, before he turned and walked away from the site, with herself following soon behind for the short walk back to the vehicle.
''Kirito?'' She asked as they got into the jeep, and Kirito clutched onto the steering wheel with a grip reserved for ensuring someone didn't fall into a bottomless abyss. If she listened carefully, she was sure he was actually splintering the wooden wheel, his hands white as they gripped it tightly.
''What they said earlier... I don't know.'' He answered, though not coherently.
''I don't understand? You don't know what?''
''Why we bother. This isn't going to be the end of this, and-'' She cut him off before he could get into whatever speech he was about to make.
''I know why I'm bothering - so as no one forgets what happened here.'' She countered, before continuing. ''Maybe Argo was right, and no one gets bought to justice for this, but we're living proof of what happened to those people. We saw off those fighters, and tried our best to get them to safety.'' She finished her speech and after a few seconds of contemplation, a small smile replaced the frown on Kirito's face before he started laughing quietly to himself. ''What's so funny!''
''Just thinking, why am I the flight leader!'' He admitted, and in her frustration, she nudged him with her elbow.
''Ass.'' She pouted, before turning away at the implied praise. ''Besides, you aren't a bad leader... just need a bit of practice.''
That turned the tables, she noticed, as it was his turn to fold under the praise...
/-/
Back at Rechlin, Koharu had found a quiet spot on the airbase to sit and think about everything. One of the few creature comforts that had survived the transformation of ACES, from a flight simulator to a war simulator, was strangely a music player, which had seemingly been programmed with a very eclectic selection of music, ranging from the music of idols, all the way through to heavy metal. Whenever she'd been in a bad mood, she'd found some solace in music, allowing her to place herself in all sorts of fantastical stories, or even place herself in other people's lives whilst they sang. It had even inspired her to take up playing the piano, and she'd even started writing her own music...
Then she'd found her way into ACES; a way to understand her father more, and why he was always away. She'd thought that, by learning to fly in ACES, she'd understand her father's affinity for the air, and have a chance to spend more time with him. She'd have almost laughed at just how badly that plan had actually gone, especially given that she was now the absent one in their relationship, if only it hadn't left such an open scar in her emotional state.
Perhaps that had been why that last mission had burrowed into her conscience, and refused to leave - that she pictured her father in a similar situation, fighting impossible odds. She pictured the crew fighting those odds, and even when all hope was lost, they'd fought to control where the plane came down and prevent any casualties on the ground. They'd only stopped fighting the odds when the plane broke apart, and it became clear that absolutely nothing they did would change the outcome then.
She hadn't noticed, she was so caught up in the music, but Argo had managed to find her, and sat next to her. Once the song had finished, and she'd seen her, Without any prompting, and with a much more serious tone than usual, Argo began to speak. ''Back in t'beta, there was this one mission; the Belkans had nuclear bombers positioned near the border, an' we need shots of 'em to prove what was goin' on. E'rryone knew that tryin' ta get close enough to spot 'em was a death sentence. I know it weren't back then, not really, but been shot down 'ent much fun even when yer life ent on th' line. Dow' ask me why, but I said I could do it, an' I did actually get the pictures we all needed fer proof... but my plane was done fer. I had ta eject, or I'd'a bin blown ter bits. The pictures ne'er made it back, an' we had ta shoot them down 'fore they vaporized e'rrythin'.'' She explained, and Koharu started to understand the point she was making; that, even though she'd failed to get Flight 668 back, she'd also found herself in an unwinnable situation; get the plane to the ground, ASAP, or get it to the ground safely. If she'd gone with the first option, and insisted the pilots attempted to make a forced landing, there was absolutely no guarantee it wouldn't have been equally catastrophic but in a different way, and with no emergency services, the outlook for any survivors would've been bleak. Even the second option, the one she actually had gone for, she knew as soon as she saw it that it was a race against time... and time is one thing that no one can outrun. Whilst she'd thought it through, she hadn't realised that there had been a really awkward pause for over a minute, whilst she did. Argo spoke up to break that silence though. ''Ya wanna get a drink?''
''I'm not sure a drunk pilot is a good idea, Argo...'' For the first time today, she felt a small smile on her face at the quip.
''Who said I was gettin' ya tipsy?'' Argo smirked in response, and the pair walked off towards the bar. '' 'Sides, yer not wrong... don't think I wanna discover what drunk piloting 'round here's like!''
{Author's Comments}
If you're enjoying this, I'll be putting up another story set in ACES soon, which will likely follow a similar style to the Side Quests in An Englishman - not necessarily sequential shorts, with a lighter tone, or where they simply wouldn't fit in with the story here. Oh, and before I go, I also have a Pixiv account that I will be using to upload some artwork for my stories - just look for ''AJ2528'' on there!
Thanks to everyone for reading this, and I hope you enjoy (and continue to enjoy) my stories!
Midland 2541, signing out.