"Locksmith Squadron, you're up for the CAP flight," Grayson informed the squadron as they stood in front of him. "You all know the drill, and the route, so I expect you all to be back here promptly."
"Er, sir, with all due respect, are you sure it's wise to send fighters up when the situation is as rocky as it is?" Shepard asked. "I mean, it's been nonstop riots ever since New Years. You've even got a good amount of people saying that Cascadia should leave the Federation outright."
"The delicate nature of the situation is exactly why we need to display a message that the Federation is standing strong despite the difficulties we face," Grayson told the Major in a strong and commanding voice. "Besides, with all the calls for separation from the Federation, the fact that it's Unification Day is bound to make things worse. We need to be alert and on our guard as much as possible. Am I clear?"
Shepard nodded and gave the Commander a salute. "Yes, sir. Don't worry, we'll do everything we can to keep a lid on the situation."
Once the squadron started walking, and Grayson was out of earshot, Babble was the first to speak. "How exactly does he expect us to 'manage' anything from about twenty-five hundred meters in the air- or at all, for that matter? I don't know if he realizes it, but fighter jets aren't exactly the greatest tool for de-escalation."
"At the end of the day, it's just sticky situation all around; better to have us in the air and not need us than to need us in the air and being stuck on the ground," Cutter pointed out, walking backwards beside Shepard to face the rest of the squadron as they made their way to the hangar.
"Still, it just feels… off- like I've got a bad feeling about the whole thing," Babble replied.
Shepard chuckled, still looking straight ahead as they walked into the hangar. "You'd be crazy if you didn't. After everything that's happened, it feels like things are reaching a breaking point- just a matter of when its gonna happen."
"Whaddyou think, Glade?" ASH asked her wingman, finally breaking the trance Avery had unwittingly slipped into. "Feels like you've been awfully quiet since the New Years Shooting."
Avery fumbled over her words for a moment, struggling to put the thoughts she had into a rational thought. Eventually, though, she just shrugged. "I honestly have no idea," she admitted as the squadron approached their planes. "I mean… what am I supposed to think? I'm Cascadian, so surely, I should be pissed off at the Federation, but I'm also a Federation pilot, so shouldn't I also be frustrated at the Cascadians? It just… it feels like I don't really know anything- like the gears in my brain are all gunked up."
To her surprise, Shepard had paused his own preparations for takeoff and stood next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder that made her jump. "You're in a position that few people should ever find themselves in- stuck between a raging volcano and a hellish inferno. But I know that you'll make it through the other end of this crucible, and you'll be a changed person when you do."
Avery looked at him with an eyebrow cocked up. "That's some uh… weirdly profound advice, sir." What else was she supposed to say? How was anyone supposed to respond to that kind of insight?
Shepard smirked, giving her shoulder one last tap before he returned to his plane. "Gotta keep an eye on my flock, don't I?" he asked over his shoulder as he climbed up into his cockpit. "Now let's get a move on," he ordered in a far more serious tone, raising his voice to reach the rest of the squadron.
Avery finished the last of her preparations and climbed up the ladder into her F/C-16. Each switch to flick and knob to turn can instinctively to her by now- as natural as putting one foot in front of the other. As her engine roared to life, she lowered the canopy around herself and fastened the oxygen mask on her helmet over her mouth, pulling air in through her nose and out through her mouth- as if to double check that she could still breathe.
"Locksmith 1, ready for takeoff. All callsigns, confirm," Shepard announced over the radio.
"Locksmith 2, ready.''
"Locksmith 3, ready."
"Locksmith 4, good to go."
"Locksmith 5, all set."
Avery's heart was pounding, but she couldn't for the life of herself figure out why. She didn't like it, but she sounded off nonetheless. "Locksmith 6, standing by."
"Tower, Locksmith Squadron is ready for takeoff- requesting clearance on Runway 2-1," Shepard sounded off.
"Copy, Locksmith, 2-1 is yours- cleared for takeoff," Tower replied.
That was all the confirmation they needed. As soon as the main doors to the hangar opened, the six Vipers began rolling down the taxiway. One by one, they stopped at the edge of the runway before speeding off into the air- each pilot following the one before them as they assumed their formation. Avery looked down at Presidia as they got higher and farther away before turning to fly overhead. It looked so small that she could've held the city in her hands. From up here, there was no border between Cascadia and the Federation. There was just Presidia in all its majesty.
It doesn't last for long, though.
"Command to Sable, we've got reports of hostilities over at the Federation Embassy," Grayson reported, his authoritative tone coming over the radio crystal clear. "Investigate and see if you can't get a handle on things."
"Sable 1 Actual, roger. We'll go check it out," came the reply, sounding both bored and downright annoyed.
"That doesn't sound good," Pad commented as the six fighters flew over downtown Presidia.
Shepard let out a sigh that was heavy with… something- uncertainty, maybe? After a brief pause, the flight lead spoke. "It'll be fine. As long as our boys on the ground get there in time to keep a lid on things, we shouldn't have anything to worry about," he reassured the squadron, keeping up his usual tough and stoic demeaner- even through nothing but his voice.
"Nickel 2-4 to Command, the rioting is just getting more and more violent- and we're starting to see people showing up in milspec gear- possibly partisans," another of the ground units reported. "Please advise, over."
"Keep weapons safe 2-4. If we're in the headlines again because another of our boys got trigger-happy, then it's over for us. Stick to the ROE," Grayson ordered.
"Somethin's not right here. I don't like this," Cutter said with an edge to his voice that Avery had never once heard before.
Then, as if on cue, the radio exploded to life once more, with the crackle of gunfire in the background filling everyone's ears. "Sable to Command, shots fired at the Embassy- repeat; shots fired at the Embassy! Requesting support!" came the desperate plea from the soldiers on the ground.
Even from thousands of meters in the air, all of Locksmith Squadron heard it- the sound of the city exploding into gunfire and explosions. All of them tried to say something, but it all got caught in their throats. There was nothing that any of them could say in response to something like this.
"Copy, Sable- wait one," was Grayson's immediate response before turning his attention to everyone else. "All callsigns- give me a SITREP, now!"
"Nickel 2 Actual- we're taking fire from- from… shit, we're getting shot at from everywhere at this point! We've already got multiple casualties! What the hell's going on?"
"Locksmith 1, we can see firefights all over the city. What are our orders, Command?" Shepard asked, already turning to circle back around.
Grayson was quick to work with what he had at his disposal. "Locksmith Squadron, stand by and await my orders. Nickel 2, fall back and regroup with Sable 1. All other available callsigns, get downtown ASAP and- damn!" The explosion in the background of the Commander's radio was clear as day, and it only made everyone even more on edge.
"Command!? What's going on?" Shepard asked the question once more, but at this point, he just wanted a response to know that Grayson was still alive.
At first, all the Federation soldiers were greeted to over the radio was the loudest silence any of them had ever heard, but finally, the sound of crackled gunfire cut in over the radio once more- this time coming from Grayson's position. "This is Command to all Federation forces in Cascadia: green-on-blue; repeat, green-on-blue! All Cascadian Guard forces are hereby considered hostile. You're cleared to engage!"
Avery felt her head start to spin. This couldn't be happening. Surely, this wasn't real… right? Her own country- her home- was fighting against the order that she had known all her life- the order that had pulled her up from nothing. How was she supposed to pick between the two? The dilemma made her head spin. Little did she know, however, that the answer was about to reveal itself.
"Locksmith Squadron, we need you back at the Air Base, now! It's a shitshow over here and we need control of the runways. Hurry up," Grayson ordered.
"Are you serious!?" Babble demanded. "What about all of the boots on the ground that need our help right here? We can't just-"
It happened in an instant. One moment, Babble was there, flying just in front of and to the left Avery. The next, an explosion occupied the space where her plane just was, leaving Avery's ears ringing, and the remains of Babble's F/C-16 falling down into the city below, crumpling apart as the flames of the explosion chewed through the weakened metal. Avery couldn't help but watch it fall the whole way down, and it was only when the wreckage hit the ground that it finally set in for her: Babble was dead.
"Dammit! Locksmith 4, lost!" Shepard cursed, already breaking away and dropping flares. "They've got MANPADS below us. Everyone, evasive maneuvers, now!"
Avery's RWR lit up a moment later, and she turned defensive. Flares lit up the afternoon sky as she pulled hard to the right, making the missiles from below lose their track and hiss by, hitting nothing but empty space. More MANPADS came up from the city, which prompted more flares which prompted more misses. Each pilot's head was rushing like a waterfall with different thoughts and worries, but above all else, there was but one signal that their brains kept fresh: survive.
"Dammit, Command we can't keep this up for much longer. We need support, now!" Cutter insisted as he narrowly avoided another missile.
"Carrier aircraft from the Dejanus's battlegroup are already inbound, but until they get here, you've got Cascadian fighters taking off," Grayson warned them.
Avery looked down at her radar, and sure enough, six air contacts- already flagged as hostiles- were headed right for them. She followed her squadron as they turned to meet the bandits head-on, but… but these were her countrymen. If she fought against them, then she'd be a traitor to her people, and that was wrong, wasn't it? Her eyes squeezed shut, but all she could see was that one moment of Babble getting shot down, being replayed in her mind over and over again. Her mind was made up. She was no traitor. It was these extremists- these rebels- that were the traitors. Six SK.27s appeared on her HUD, and she sped up to intercept. The fight was on.
As soon as she had tone, Avery unleashed an MLAA at the bandit just left of the flight lead, forcing them to move defensive. ASH and Padlock did the same, going after the two on the edges of the formation. Meanwhile, Shepard lit his burners to close the distance, and Cutter followed him in- both dropping flares as they went. Doing her best to steady her breathing, Avery kept her eyes on the one she fired at. Her missile went wide thanks to the chaff they dropped, but her quarry had to pull up higher to shake it. Her window was short, so she had to act fast. With the throttle pushed as far forward as it would go, Avery readied another MLAA and let it loose toward her target. More chaff spewed out from the Flanker, but thanks to the speed it lost after its first evasion, they didn't have enough to make another, and the missile made contact as they were halfway through a turn. The first Cascadian blood had been drawn.
"Garter Squadron, hurry up and get airborne, dammit!" Grayson ordered, his voice serving as nothing but background noise as the fighter pilots continued their dance above the capital. "Ground forces are reporting that Runway 1-6 should be clear enough to take off."
"Should?" echoed Garter's flight lead. "Can't say I like those odds, but we'll do our best."
Avery's RWR lit up once more, and a brief glance over her shoulder confirmed that the last bandit unaccounted for had crept up behind her and launched an STDM. Her hand reached for the countermeasures instantly, dumping flares as she turned hard, initially trying to circle around and face them down, but upon realizing that she didn't have enough time, she yanked back on the stick and pulled up, lighting her burners as she went to keep from losing too much speed. The STDM sped past her canopy, leaving a trail of smoke behind it as the missile careened off into the sky. Tracers followed soon after, forcing Avery to jink one way and then another. Finally, she inverted and pulled hard. She could feel the g-forces pressing against her body from all sides, but she powered through until she evened back out and saw one of the Sk.27s on ASH's tail just ahead. The growl of an eager STDM, waiting to be launched, came to life as she but her sights on the bandit, and after checking behind once more to make sure her own pursuer wasn't too close, she got just close enough to fire. ASH's tail was too busy chasing her down to realize in time, but by the time they did, it was too late. And once ASH realized it, she quickly pulled hard, angling herself at the gap between Avery and the Sk.27 behind her. A quick burst of gunfire later, and the third bandit was falling to the ground with smoke behind it.
"Thanks, ASH," Avery barely managed to say between deep breaths in and out to regain the air she'd lost from her lungs.
"Don't mention it," her wingman replied, sounding equally exhausted.
"Locksmith Squadron, this is Garter 1. We're taking off and ready to assist," the familiar voice of the pilot from earlier reported as a flight of four MG-29s lifted off from the Air Base. "How are you guys looking?"
Avery looked around and quickly spotted Shepard passing by a burning Sk.27. After a sharp turn to the left, his last two MLAAs flew off the rails, arching through the sky and colliding into the last two bandits. "All bandits eliminated," the Major reported.
"I wouldn't say that just yet," Grayson warned. "The runways are ours- for the moment at least- but we've got hostile fighters coming the north and east- too many to handle. Shit… that's it, I'm calling it." A moment later, there was a brief ping over the main Federation comms before he spoke again. "This is Regional HQ to all Federation forces in Cascadia. I'm ordering a tactical withdrawal effective immediately. If you're able, fall back to Prospero. Local forces are reporting that they've secured the city, but do not- under any circumstances- return to Presidia. Godspeed."
Avery looked down at her radar, and sure enough countless hostile contacts were headed straight for them. She didn't bother counting, but there had to be at least two dozen. Before she could say anything, though, Cutter beat her to the punch. "Holy shit. Where are all these guys even coming from? We definitely don't have the ammo to take them all on."
"Agreed, I'm down to just my two heaters," Pad chimed in. "We need to get out of here, now."
"We're loading everyone and everything we can into the transports. We just need a minute or two more," Grayson insisted.
"Leave that to us," Garter 1 replied as he led the MG-29s toward the onslaught of hostile fighters. "We'll keep them busy. Locksmith Squadron, get those transports out of here! If any of us make it out, we'll meet you at Prospero."
"What?!" Shepard demanded. "You guys are outnumbered at least five to one. You can't possibly-"
"GO!"
As the C/T-17s lifted into the air, Locksmith Squadron was left with no choice but to turn around and follow them as they withdrew from the city. Avery looked over her shoulder, watching her home get smaller and smaller away as she ran away. She felt so damn full of hatred, but she couldn't tell if it was for herself, or her countrymen. Honestly, she wasn't sure which answer she hated more. One thing she did know, however, was that things were about to change- drastically. And when Cascadia came out the other end of this crucible, it was never going to be the same again.