-Scott Air Force Base, Illinois, United States of America-
-Commonwealth of Free Cities-
-Monday, September 7, 2076, 07:16-
-Captain Wendy Harrelson-
Wendy Harrelson follows behind General Franks, glancing around as they approach one of the hangars, guards at the doors. "So what are we here for, General?" she asks, hands in her pockets as she follows her commander.
Beside her, Danny shifts his weight slightly, shrugging in that way he has of agreeing with her without having to actually speak to the General.
The General glanced over her shoulder at them. "This is why we've selected you all to be here," she says.
A murmur of excitement goes through the group of eight -- survivors from the air engagement over Lake Erie, all of them, although some weren't present for reasons she didn't pretend to understand.
Wendy frowns. It wasn't really an answer to her question.
Daria catches the expression and chuckles, and that gets Wendy's attention properly. The General hadn't had much laughter in her, since Detroit.
The General shakes her head. "Our illustrious new trainers have a surprise for us," she says.
Wendy scowls, the mood amongst the others spoiling as well. None of them liked the new guys. When word had gotten around that they were getting a group of old Air Force veterans training them how to fly, they'd practically had stars in their eyes. Hellfire and the Devils come again, this time to give the Commonwealth Air Force some of the Old Country magic.
Imagine their disappointment to instead receive a batch of the sourest, least disciplined assholes ever to walk the Earth. She and the other girls had swiftly learned not to be alone with any of their trainers. She'd nearly pulled a knife on one of them, once, when he wouldn't back off.
Captain Eric Vance -- one of the F-4 pilots from Leamington who scored kills in the engagement, an immigrant from the deep South -- scoffs at that. "What do they want?" he asks.
The General turns, fixing him with a stern glare. "I know the issues we're having. I'm working on it. They've got as much to learn about how we do things as we have to learn about flying. But I expect you to listen to me when I say there's something they have for us."
Vance averts his gaze, rubbing at the back of his head. "Sorry, ma'am," he muttered, wincing. "Just...nah, sorry."
Daria nods after a moment, coming to a halt in front of the hangar doors. "We've selected you all for this because, out of the all of you, I believe you are the best pilots we got back after Detroit. In the fighting there, and the actions over Buffalo later, you all distinguished yourselves in a way I don't think any others matched. So, you eight have been selected as the first candidates for a special training course." She pounds on the hangar doors; a moment later, they begin rattling open.
Wendy blinks as cool air rushes out. Air conditioning, she marvels. That's fancy.
Daria rolls her shoulders back, standing up straight. "You all are the best of our best. Of the pilots who remain of our air force, I trust you all the most to handle the hardest jobs this Air Force has to offer." She steps aside, gesturing within the hangar with that smile back on her face. "Have a look. It's not the same, your first time, not without seeing it yourself."
Wendy raises her eyebrow at her boss before looking at the others, shrugging, and leading the way, Danny walking with her. She squints as she enters the hangar, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light within. "Big place," she remarks, peering about the space. She homes in on a cluster of shapes at the far end of the hangar, coming into focus as her eyes grow used to the-
Her eyes widen. She slows to a dazed halt.
"God Almighty," breathes Danny as he caught sight of them.
Dead silence falls as the pilots lay eyes on a quartet of F-22 Raptors.
After a stunned moment, Wendy feels her feet carrying her forward, eyes fixed on the one nearest her. The others follow, spurred by her example.
She doesn't register the trip across; a seeming heartbeat later, she stands before the plane, staring up at it. She circles at it, gazing from every single angle.
"These are your jets," she hears Daria saying. "Assuming you pass your courses to the satisfaction of your trainers -- and I have every confidence that you will -- then you will be the Commonwealth's first F-22 pilots."
Wendy comes to a halt just where the fighter's cockpit ladder would rest, gazing up at the canopy. Danny steps up next to her.
"Did you ever imagine you'd have a chance like this?" she breathes.
Danny stays silent for a long, long moment.
Then, with a sudden, shake of his head as though shooing an irritating insect, he says, "No. Never."
The pilots spend an endless moment taking in their new planes. There'll be work for them tomorrow.
For now, the future exists in a timeless moment of wonder and anticipation.
