Chapter 133 - First Flight

<---Chapter 132 - Version 0| Table of Contents |Chapter 134 - Life Under Siege--->

Two days later, between Ocra and Tenar...

"Something's wrong." A Versian military guard spoke to his fellow colleague as he chewed on a particularly tough jerky, his eyes set forward beyond the window of his guardpost over the throng of refugees that had been queuing up for days. Everyone was clamoring for a ride on one of the famed planes that were ferrying them by droves to cities further beyond, away from the impending battle.

"Don't see nothing wrong. Same old panicking idiots. If I had a tenar for every time I had to beat a dumbass for trying to jump the queue..." His partner scoffed, leaning back into a wooden chair and relaxing his boots on the top of a crate, his metal soles clinking against the hardened panels.

"They are far more aggressive today. It's like something is nibbling them at the ankles." The first guard shook his head as he watched other squads of guards forcibly shove flustered refugees back into line, shouting right into their ears. Some tried to bribe the guards to jump the queue, while others gulped greedily at their refilled flasks, distributed by supplies ferried in from the other cities. The queue snaked through rows upon rows of wooden fences that marked the perimeter of the airfield, while patrolling conscripts kept a keen eye on the horizon for any sight of skirmish attacks from Count Leon.

"Let the ones on duty handle it, we're off the clock. All we got to to do is make sure we get them to Creuliz and Utul."

"What about Desham?"

"Orders from the top is that Desham is over-pressured. Anymore and whatever supplies we get from them will be affected. And let me tell you this, the food they've been sending in with that meat recently... whatever the fuck that is - yea, that's the real stuff instead of stuffing my face with potatoes every day. Especially that supply wagon yesterday, I ran like hell to the sergeant and had to queue to buy my share. No chance we're going to send refugees there to eat more meat meant for us!" His partner grinned, pointing at the jerky the first guard was eating.

"Yea, it's good. Much better than whatever they are cooking at Utul. A bit too expensive to buy every day, though." The first guard agreed, taking another bite of the meat jerky. It had a wild tinge to it, and wasn't too fat nor oily to turn him off, and gave him enough energy to last the shift. "Still, it's strange that Desham suddenly was able to ship out meat like this. Weren't they dedicated to growing grains in the farms like two months ago?"

"Who knows? I'm not complaining."

"But-"

"Stop asking questions and let me fucking sleep for Goddess' Sake. We've only got ten minutes left - you can ask me whatever when we're on duty." Pulling his own helmet over his face, the partner guard immediately fell into a deep sleep with rhythmic snores reverberating through the helmet, a skill critical in the military.

The first guard sighed, continuing to gnaw on the piece of jerky when the door to the guard post suddenly swung wide open with a bang, shocking the sleeping partner awake. As soon as the both of them saw who stood in the doorway, they immediately clapsed their feet together, saluting. "Sir!"

"Sleeping on the job, hmm? Even when a guard is on break, he should remain on alert. Are we not at war?" The officer squinted his eyes as he stepped through the doorway, his tanned tattooed hand rubbing the stubbles on his cheeks as his sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing countless black ink marks on his forearms that made the two guards tremble slightly. The ranks etched into his neck bore witness to his seniority, being one of the many Versians that had fought in the war of independence.

"Sir, yes, sir!" The guards shouted in unison, while the officer turned his attention to the piece of jerky still in the first guard's hand, shock on his face.

"Where did you get that? That's not standard issue rations." The officer glared with an accusatory tone.

"Uhh..." The first guard looked around nervously, exchanging confused glances with his partner. "Sir, they were delivered from Desham just yesterday."

"Why was I not informed of this?! This is clearly against regulations and a severe discrepancy in what should be distributed."

"Sir, Sergeant Eren signed off on this shipment; he's been in charge of all supplies for the airfield."

The officer stormed up to the first guard, snatching what remained of the jerky and taking a large bite into it himself, chewing while his expression lit up tremendously, before he quickly controlled himself, restoring his stoic gaze. "You, stay here and hold the post." He pointed to the partner first before pointing to the first guard. "You, you're going to bring me to where these shipments are coming in from."

"Of-of course, sir!" The first guard hurriedly grabbed his equipment before joining the officer who had already stepped outside. "Right this way - the shipments are stored in one of the unused hangars." The two of them walked briskly along the length of a wide runway, where an arcia-powered biplane was already taking on passengers, each plane only able to hold up to eight refugees. They soon approached another part of the runway with recently landed biplanes that were refuelling their arcite tanks as well as unloading fresh deliveries from Utul and Creuliz.

The officer ignored the saluting workers and other guards, heading straight for where the first guard led him, which turned out to be a small little office, conditioned by engravings on the wall that cooled down the interior. Within it was a single Sergeant who was gleefully counting the tenars in a pouch, earned from selling the meat that came from Desham. The sergeant jumped immediately from his reclining chair, saluting the officer with a panicked expression. "Sir, if you were performing an inspection, it would've been better if you had informed me earl-"

"Informed you earlier, and have you illegally profited off your fellow countrymen? What rubbish!" The officer stormed up to the sergeant, snatching the pouch of tenars away and looking inside. "How much meat is exactly being delivered, and when did it start?"

"Just two days ago, sir. If you want to try..." The sergeant had a sneaky smile as he pulled out a wrapped jerky, wanting to offer it to the officer.

"Trying to bribe an Versian officer? Sergeant Eren, you are now under arrest on the charges of attempted bribery of a ranking military officer, and will be brought back to Tenar for trial and subsequent punishment. You, arrest him." The officer snapped, the first guard stunned from the change of events, rooted to his own feet. An awkward silence passed before the officer shot the first guard another glare once more, prompting the first guard to finally move forward to grab the sergeant from behind.

"Sir, please, wait! We can work something out - you can earn much more if we cooperate! There's no need to jump the gun!" Sergeant Eren grasped at straws as the first guard began to grab his wrists, putting him into an armlock.

"Hmm? Go on." The officer crossed his arms, still holding the pouch of tenars.

"We can work out a deal, a profit-sharing deal. You let me operate like this, and I'll transfer you five percent of the earnings-"

"Ninety percent."

"What?!" Sergeant Eren gasped in shock. "That's a -"

"It's either you give me ninety percent of everything you've earned, or I'll have you flown to Tenar on the next flight to plead your case."

"This... this is extortion!"

"Rich, coming from an illegal distributor. You have five seconds. Five."

Sergeant Eren's face paled, knowing that he did not have any leverage from which to bargain with. "Okay, okay, I accept! Ninety percent!"

"Good." The officer dug into the pouch, pulling out fifty tenars worth of coins and tossing it on the office table.

"Wha... what are you doing?"

"Here's your ten percent. I look forward to working with you." The officer grinned, pocketing the rest of the pouch into his pocket and motioning for the first guard to release the sergeant.

"But that's before the dea-" Sergeant Eren was about to complain until the officer shot him another stern glare, forcing him to swallow the words back.

"I've done my rounds more than you have - consider it your bad luck that you serve under me." With those parting words, the officer left as quickly as he had appeared, the first guard following the officer out of the conditioned office.

As the officer stepped back out into the main floor of the hangar, he noticed a large commotion among the workers, their voices echoing off the metal beams and walls that supported the ceiling. "What's going on?" He muttered under his breath, before he finally caught wind of a conversation nearby.

"Another convoy from Desham is coming! This time, it's even bigger; there are three wagons full of them! Think of the number of meat that is coming!" A worker whispered to another as they hauled crates off a stationary arcia plane, unaware of the officer eavesdropping nearby.

"I just wish Sergeant Eren would stop gouging us - the meat isn't worth that much!"

The signature rumbling sound of arctech wagons could be heard in the distance, the low vibrations getting closer and closer with each passing second till the convoy came into clear view, rolling down the open gravel roads with their backs covered in fabric. They entered the hangar to a veritable buzz of excitement, as workers and conscripts alike dropped whatever tasks they were doing, running over to jostle to be the first to receive the meat before Sergeant Eren could monopolize all of it.

The officer did not have any of it; however, he immediately pushed his way to the front of the growing crowd. Some soldiers refused to budge, only moving when they finally got a glimpse of just who it was that they were blocking, before scrambling out of the way, a few even leaving the hangar completely, afraid of potential punishments. He forced his way through, violently shoving aside the more oblivious workers and conscripts till he reached the back of the wagon, its contents still covered in a tarp that protected it from the sun.

"Back off from the fucking wagons! Who let them into the airfield?!" The officer shouted over the clamoring soldiers, enforcing an enveloping silence that had the soldiers freeze in action, all of them realizing that an officer was among them. Their training kicked in, and all of them immediately saluted the officer and stood apart from each other.

"Distribution of illegal rations not certified by the army is tantamount to insubordination and treason! What if the food was spiked with a disease, or tainted with illness?" The officer lectured them, motioning for them to disperse. "Now, all of you are to back off until I get to the very bottom of this! This shipment is hereby impounded under my authority!"

"Yes, sir!" The soldiers saluted once more, though they clearly had forlorn expressions on their faces, morale plummeting as they began to return to their tasks. Many grumbled about the officer, some of the more cynical ones already correctly pointing out the officer's aim of monopolizing the meat.

The officer held back his grin, but he knew he had won the jackpot. He couldn't stop thinking about his future as he reached out with both hands to lift the tarp off the back of the wagon.With this meat now under my control, I should be able to buy my way out from here into Proco or Hwayul. As long as no one reports me, this will be easy! And I'll be able to get away from all of thi-

As the tarp was pulled off, he instead came face to face with the barrel of an Aspis MK2 Repeater, wielded by a familiar face that he wished he would never see for the rest of his life.

"Hello, Makoa. What a coincidence. And here I thought you were still in Ocra."

"No, no, no, no!" Makoa's face paled, his head trying to make sense of what was happening. Why is he here?! They should all be dead in Tenar! I heard it in the news! "You're not taking me back! No fucking way-" He couldn't finish his words in time, Kyle grabbing him by the cheek and dragging him up into the wagon with impressive strength. His face was slammed onto the sturdy crates, pinned down, while Makoa saw another middle-aged lady, Hayden, hiding behind the crates of meat. Both Kyle and Hayden wore the same uniform as the conscripts in the hangar, planning to infiltrate the airfield by blending in.

"Make a choice - either you help us and you'll live, or I'll kill you, and we do what we came here to do. What's it going to be?" Kyle pressed the barrel of his repeater against the temple of Makoa.

Memories of months-long torture under the Seven Snakes and the thought of seeing Kyle again caused Makoa's heart to plummet immediately, almost wanting to simply die if he was just going to be yet another pawn to be used. No! I can't die yet, and there's a chance I can still escape! I did it before, and I can do it again! "I'll help you, I'll help you!"

"Always knew you had a smart head on your shoulders, Makoa." Kyle grinned. "Now you're going to get us to a plane in an adjacent hangar, without any fuss. Make any noise or try to call any reinforcements, and you might not get away with all of your limbs intact. Are we clear?"

Makoa nodded vigorously, Kyle letting him go. "Now walk." Kyle murmured, prompting Makoa to hurriedly disembark the back of the wagon, acting nonchalantly as possible while Kyle and Hayden trailed behind, acting as though they had been ordered by Makoa to follow him.

"I'm getting too old for this. You should have gotten Feldon." Hayden muttered as she huffed, her body getting more and more tired though she masked her lack of stamina with a stern expression, acting like nothing was wrong despite her aching muscles from hiding in the wagon for too long.

"You're the mind behind Project Aurtla, of course I need you here," Kyle replied as Makoa led them out of the supply hangar into an adjacent one, where three planes were in storage, pending maintenance and left alone in the hangar's main floor, only the three of them present. Before Kyle and Hayden got to work, Kyle quickly tied up Makoa with a piece of rope lying around, binding his hands and feet while stuffing an oily cloth into Makoa's mouth, leaving him writhing on the floor. Makoa tried to resist, but found even his burly muscles easily overwhelmed as though he was just a kid. Since when did Kyle get this strong?!

Hayden clambered onto the plane, using the metal ladder rungs to hoist herself up into the seat, while Kyle stared confusedly at the shape of the plane's wings. He had already seen them before in the blueprints that Hayden had produced from memory, but seeing them upfront was something else altogether. He did not manage to get a good look during the Grand Exhibition; the flyby was too fast for him to accurately determine the structure.

Instead of being a tapered thin wing much like the first flights on Ancient Earth, the wings were shaped exactly like the branches of a pine tree, with a clear oval shape, but the fractal pattern of the metal 'vessels' was extremely disorientating. It was as if someone had slapped on a coral reef to the center body of the plane on both ends, with the ends glowing up as the plane whirred to life, arcite fuel surging through the dizzying tracts of engravings that encompassed the entirety of the plane. At least the center still looks normal.

"What are you waiting for? Get in here before we get exposed!" Hayden urged, motioning from her seat. The center body was shaped like a small submarine with no tail, though the pilot and copilot's seat was exposed at the top while the cargo hold was opened via a hatch at the bottom, allowing people to enter from beneath. Kyle leaped up to the plane, entering the copilot seat in one fluid motion only to be faced with a confusing display and countless traces that spread out like a spider web from the control system in front of him, the colorful pulses of arcia energy making it even more disorientating.

"The wings are designed after the blood vessels of a wyvern wing to generate lift," Hayden explained. "Unfortunately, extremely fine control of the vessels is required, so the pilot has to be adept at controlling arcia energy flowing out of his body."

"What about these throttles?" Kyle pointed out an array of twenty sliders that seemed to tailor the flow of arcia energy to various parts of the wings that were now beginning to grow larger and larger from their original size, unfolding and extending beyond till the wingspan was close to seven meters wide.

"Someone must have tried to make it easier to recruit pilots, so the throttle helps less experienced pilots finetune their output. I don't think you would need it yourself." Hayden spoke with a tinge of disdain, clearly upset that her original design had been 'improved' on.

"Okay, how do we fly this?"

"Simple. Flick the glowing blue switch and grab the two handles on the sides of the display." Hayden demonstrated, her hands wrapping around two handlebars that instantly lit up, with fifteen metallic tube-like vessels extending outwards from the side of the seat and making contact with her hands, pulsating in rhythm with the movements in her hands. The plane began to lurched forward, arcia energy brimming in the wings as wheels on the bottom rolled it forwards.

"Can't this plane take off vertically?" Kyle asked.

"No, there needs to be enough airflow through the vessels to obtain the lift necessary!" Hayden shouted over the din as the plane rolled out towards the front of the hangar onto the runway, where surprised workers and other guards spotted the plane that clearly was not slated to takeoff.

"Hey, who authorized that plane to move out!? Stop!" A sergeant exclaimed from afar, watching the plane unsteadily rock along the uneven gravel runway that had not been paved enough, Kyle and Hayden jostling in their barely padded seat.

"Taking off is simple!" Hayden hollered over the rushing wind as the plane began to pick up speed. "Just pull back and control the wings, let the plane be a part of your body!" She pulled back on the handlebars, the wings flaring as the vessels expanded even more, mimicking a wyvern's wing albeit without the skin. Kyle could feel his body being lifted up as the plane began to lift off the ground slightly, bit by bit.

"Got it. Fly back to Desham, I'll meet you there."

"Of course, I'm flying back to Desham - wait, what do you mean?!" Hayden turned around only to see Kyle leap out of his seat from the moving plane with his repeater still in hand, rolling onto the rough gravel road in a tumble. Within seconds, he recovered to his feet before running straight back to the hangar they came from. Unfortunately, Kyle had to contend with even more soldiers that were now pouring out onto the runway, their eyes locked onto him with their rifles raised.

"Hands up! Who's your commanding officer!" A guard roared and motioned with his rifle, his barrel jerking while others inched towards Kyle, keeping a clear berth.

Penchant for Violence! Kyle felt the familiar strength surge into his thighs and mind, breaking out into a dizzying sprint that left the guards both scared shitless and taken by surprise. Kyle was practically a blur, his features not even visible as he ran past countless soldiers and workers, though he did not kill any of them. His movement was so fast that a rushing gust trailed him from behind, blowing off caps and loose fabric into the wind.

Within a short twenty seconds, he reached the starting hangar, where a dozen Versian soldiers were already investigating the loss of the plane, while two of them tried to free Makoa. Kyle brought his repeater to bear, unleashing a barrage of pellets that decimated the squad in the blink of an eye, each pellet finding their mark with ease.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

A klaxon blared across the airfield as Kyle rushed forward to grab the still-muffled Makoa, hauling him toward one of the two remaining planes in the hangar. Kyle tossed Makoa onto the ground, hopping up to flick a switch and disengaging the cargo hatch beneath before effortlessly stuffing the whimpering Makoa into the hold. Slamming the hatch shut, he hurriedly clambered into the pilot seat, repeating what Hayden did for hers and steering the plane outwards, albeit much faster.

As soon as he exited the hanger, the previously stunned guards were now out in force, firing pellets at the plane and denting the body as well as the wings. Kyle ducked as pellets zinged past him, crouching low in his seat as he drove it onto the runway, where two daring Versian squads were blocking the path. Accelerating to its maximum throttle, the plane rushed forward in a deadly headlong charge. Kyle squinted his eyes, spotting one of the Versian squad members wielding a mounted rocket launcher, similar to what the union had used against them in Raktor. Now!

Kyle jerked the handlebars, swerving the plane off to the side of the runway into the grass while the fired projectile sailed past uselessly. Instead of the wheels of the plane touching the grass however, it began to sail just over the ground, picking up more and more speed before climbing up into the sky away from the airfield, the barrage of pellets fired from the ground no longer having enough kinetic energy to reach him.

Perfect. Now, we have at least two functional planes to work with... The plane suddenly shuddered, one of the vessels of the right-wing fragmenting off, its structural integrity compromised by the pellets fired just now. The efficiency of the plane dropped, and Kyle felt the draw on his arcite energy increase. He quickly reached forward for the array of sliders controlling energy output, redirecting the consumption towards the fuel tank instead of his own internal energy arcia.

Unfortunately, the sliders were not precise enough, unable to achieve a satisfactory interval that prevented the plane from siphoning off his arcia energy. If the plane was entirely powered by the fuel tank, then there would be no control of the wings. So, a human control element is necessary. Kyle found the design far more unique even than some of the alien spacecraft that he had captured a lifetime ago.

Below him, the entirety of Versia stretched out below, affording him a view he had not seen before since coming to this world. He could see smoke pillars and fires in the distance, the Siege of Ocra still going on, while the other Versian cities loomed on the horizon, their urbanization sprawling and extending across the grassy plains. The Keru Forest, where he was headed, was even more intimidating, the trees popping out like towering buildings for hundreds of kilometers beyond.

Suddenly, Kyle began to hear something other than the regular sound of rushing wind. He swiveled his head behind, only to see two planes launched from the same airfield, clearly intent on hunting him down. He hurriedly scanned his display and control system, trying to see if there was anything that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, even the ones chasing him had no specialized weapons for air-to-air combat; Kyle already saw the copilot aiming a rifle toward him, trying to get into range.

Pushing the handlebars forward, Kyle's plane instantly dipped, dropping in altitude with a nosedive, the other two planes also following along but not as quickly. Kyle gritted his teeth as the increasing wind speed pushed against the plane as the ground rushed towards him. With a jerk, he pulled up at the very last minute, forcing the plane to go level with the ground. The trailing planes were not dumb enough to crash into the ground, but the sudden turn forced the pilots to redirect course, trying to fly above Kyle's plane as they raced across the rolling plains.

Suddenly, Kyle's plane shot right up at a sixty-degree angle, climbing rapidly and circling above the two planes, catching the pilots by surprise as they gaped at the plane twisting above them, Kyle looking at them upside down. Kyle hurriedly pulled out his Aspis MK2 repeater, firing his entire canister at the first plane, pelting it with pellets from above. The pellets twanged harmlessly against the metal body from the sheer distance between the planes, but the pilot instinctively cowered from the barrage, letting go of the handlebars. As soon as he let go, the plane's wings began to power themselves erratically, causing the plane to descend rapidly. Before the pilot realized what was wrong, he had no time left to grab the handlebars back; the plane crashed into the open field in a ball of fiery arcite flames, the parts of the body snapping apart and shattering across the grass.

Kyle's plane looped around, coming up behind the remaining plane, using his own internal arcia energy to supercharge the wing and accelerate forward past the top speed. The last remaining pilot panicked, hurriedly tapping his copilot to fire back. Pellets shot back and forth as Kyle returned fire with one hand unsteadily, the aim not as good when half of his attention was focused on manipulating the wings.

Both planes swerved and tilted from side to side, and the front plane was now trying to shake off Kyle instead, who was steadily gaining on them. Bit by bit, Kyle got closer and closer to the rear of the enemy plane, finally reaching close enough for the nose of his own plane to touch their wings. With a quick flick, he angled the plane sideways, speeding past the enemy plane but not before grabbing the edge of the wings with his own arm outstretched. He clutched onto the metal vessels, his strength enough to rip and bend the metal vessels apart, tearing a portion of the enemy's plane's right wing off.

The force of the sundering caused the enemy plane to stagger through the air, tumbling violently in a death spiral before crashing into the plain as well, facing the same fate as their comrades. Kyle hurriedly placed two hands back onto the handlebars, noticing that one of the pellets that had hit his plane had perforated the arcite fuel tank, the fuel leaking in copious amounts as he sailed across the skies. His wings were not doing any better as well; the vessels were damaged, and some engravings were inactive from the dent on the traces. The plane wings are too fragile - no wonder Harrison didn't win the first battle with them.

Kyle knew that air superiority was critical in a war, but with such flimsy planes along with no specialized armaments, it hardly meant much except for observation purposes. And here I was expecting some quantum pulse lasers to be mounted to the underside. As he continued flying, he soon spotted Desham in the distance. With his keen eyesight, he could see that Hayden had already landed her plane on a flat open field, a big Versian flag waving by other Ghosts to flag Kyle down to land. [Kyle, land here! Use the wheels!] Hayden's voice urged over the radio in Kyle's pocket.

"Got it." Right, let's get the landing gear down... wait, I don't remember there being a switch for it. Kyle frantically looked around for something to deploy the landing gear, before he calmed himself down. Of course, this is an ancient plane, the wheels are always hanging outside-

A creaking snap alerted Kyle to something breaking off, his head swiveling behind him to see two wheels falling freely in the distance. [Kyle, you've lost your wheels!]

Kyle clutched the handlebars tightly, trying to control the wings to slow down the approach speed, but the ground only began to rush even more toward him. I need to glide and slow down.... the wings aren't responding! Kyle jerked the handlebars to no effect, but his course was fixed. "Hayden, where's the ejection button?!"

[Huh? What's an ejection?]

Fuck. His plane landed on the ground with a loud crash, the metal parts and wings splintering and digging up a trail of soil before coming to a halt. Kyle's head jerked in the seat, but thankfully, the constitution of his body was enough to withstand the sudden deceleration. He panted heavily as he shoved away a ruptured metal plate that blocked his seat, getting up shakily from the plane, slightly disorientated though he was not injured.

Hayden gasped in shock, while the other Ghosts including Feldon who led them quickly rushed over, but instead of them checking up on Kyle who sat on the ground to get his bearings, they sprinted past him, quickly marking and salvaging whatever parts were left of the captured plane. "NO! We were supposed to have two!" Feldon lamented, while Hayden sighed at the wreckage, knowing it would take weeks to get the plane back up and running.

"I shot down two more, fifty kilometers towards Tenar." Kyle pointed towards the horizon, where plumes of smoke could be seen. "We need to get there before Versia finds out what's happening. Bring all the captured parts to the forest, away from observation. I want at least one plane up and running within the week!"

<---Chapter 132 - Version 0| Table of Contents |Chapter 134 - Life Under Siege--->