id: 274
name: The Silver Dove
author: TurboSperg
date: 4th March 2021
text len: 332428
views: 589

>be me
>be exploring innawoods on the other side
>find a long stretched clearing of trees
>the ground is patted flat
>definitely not natural
>look to my left
>nothing but the trees reforming the woods in the distance
>look to my right
>she the reflective shine of something metallic
>judging by the distance, is something big
>fuck why didn't i bring my binoculars
>run my ass off towards whatever was at the end of the stretch of land
>it's a building
>a small square concrete building with a big metallic semi cylinder like structure connected to it
>on closer inspection it looks like the semi cylinder structure has 3 strips of solar panels running along it
>finally get to the front of the concrete building
>the door is slightly opened
>i peek inside, it's dark as drow's asshole in there
>pull out hi-power and tacticoolingly open the door with pistol trained
>holy shit it fucking reeks in here
>there's no movement at first glance
>just shadowy silhouettes
>look for a light switch
>it's next to the door
>flick it up
>the lights slowly brighten up
>look around the room once again
>shit my pant
>there’s and old man staring at me from a rocking chair on the corner
>he looks like he is on his 70's
>hair gone completely white
>freeze in shock from a moment
>he's not moving, he has his bloodshot stare on me
>what the fuck? his skin is kinda blueish
>slowly make my way around a desk between the man and me
>he doesn't follow me with his eyes
>he's focused on the door
>walk up to him
>notice his eyes are glassy and dim
>he isn't breathing either
>oh
>oh shit
>wave my hand in front of his face
>no response
>poke him in the arm
>no response
>pat him in the back
>he slumps forward and falls to the floor
>yep, definitely dead
>inspect the man's body
>there are no wounds or sings of struggle
>considering his age he most likely sat on his chair to relax and ended up kicking the bucket
>damn it really do be like that sometimes

>look around the room
>there's a tall cabinet next to a bunk bed without and upper mattress
>open the cabinet
>there are a bunch of tools inside
>including a shovel, an axe and some rope
>perfect just what i need
>grab the stuff and throw it outside
>search the body of the old man again
>finds a key ring with a key and a small button
>find he has dog tags around his neck
>oh shit
>"Jeremy D. Basker" i read his tags out loud
>there's more or there was more but it seems that everything but his name was scratched off
>flip the tag to the other side
>the u.s. navy logo is painted on
>weird
>welp, I’m sorry mister Basker but looks like you left this plane of existence far from home
>drag his body outside and begin to dig a grave for the old man
>even i have standards for the death after all
>i take the next 15 minutes digging a grave deep enough so that heavy rain won't expose the corpse in the soon to come rainy seasons
>i carefully place the corpse of Jeremy in the hole
>he's eyes still wide open
>if he really died relaxed on his chair, why does he have that expression on his face?
>catch myself wondering off
>stop myself and get back to my business at hand
>close his eyes and climb out of the hole
>i start shoveling dirt back on the ditch
>goodbye mr. Basker, you seemed like a good guy
>after pilling the dirt back i start to compact it down with the shovel, making sure nothing is loose
>put the shovel aside and grab the axe
>run towards the forest
>start hacking at some thick branches of a nearby tree
>fuck this would have been easier if i had found a hatchet instead of this
>after much effort i run back
>axe in one hand and 2 big branches under the other arm
>begin to bury one end of a stick on one side of the fresh grave
>make sure it's sturdy enough
>put the other stick perpendicular to the first one, forming a cross
>attach them together with the rope

>before i finish tying the makeshift cross i pull out this man's dog tags out of my pocket
>i tie them to tightly the middle of the cross and continue with the rope over the dogt tag's chain thingy
>i step back to admire my work
>a dirt grave with a wooden cross with an old navy man's dog tags dangling from it's center
>oh and the old man himself under all of it
>i walk back to the building
>im thinking about making it home
>i have nothing to return to so might as well right?
>this man's misfortune has given me an opportunity
>thank you mister Jeremy D. Basker
>enter again
>the smell is still lingering
>fuck's sake i have to clean this
>go to the cabinet again
>find a broom, mop, bucket and powder cleaner
>look around for a source of water
>there’s a small bathroom with only a toilet and a sink
>fill the bucket with water from the sink
>get cleaning
>good thing my granma taught me well
>spend the next 20 minutes sweeping and moping the place
>after I’m done i take the chair and put it outside
>clean it with a piece of cloth and the rest of the soapy water
>leave it out on the sun to dry
>head back inside
>in my way notice that the semi cylinder structure has big doors
>oh shit
>once inside i look for the keys of the old man
>oh fuck i can't find them
>realize i had put them on my pocket
>fuck
>head outside
>click the button on the keyring
>light shines through the windows
>the door begins to slide open
>[visible anticipation]
>the light assaults my eyes
>fuck it's brighter than i thought
>cover my eyes
>hear the electric engines of the door stop with booming thunk
>slowly uncover my eyes
>as my eyes adjust i start to identify a distinctive silver-ish silhouette
>fully uncover my eyes
>admire what is standing in front of me
>it's a silver F/A-18E super hornet
>it's canopy is open and the access ladder is deployed next to the cockpit
>feel something crawl down my neck
>oh shit, I’m drooling

>wipe it off me
>step inside the hangar
>it way larger than it should for just a single f/a-18
>get my answer as to why is that
>there's a lot of things for the plane inside, fuel deposits, external fuel tanks mounted on a rack, a bunch of big wooden boxes with different labels
>i assume those are spare parts
>there is a weird generator looking thing connected to a big hose
>i guess that’s a fuel pump
>there's a big fancy desk next to a wall
>there's an assortment of papers on top of it
>spot a thick wad of papers stapled together that has the photo of an f/a-18 on the front
>pick it up
>it's titled "personal manual of operation of an F/A-18 super hornet"
>"plus some things you should know" is written in tiny lettering under the title
>and the author...
>"By: Jeremy Dove Basker"
>ah, so that's what the D. stood for
>walk towards the front of the plane with papers on hand
>open the little book on the first page
>there's a paragraph titled "before we begin"
>it reads "hi, my name is Jeremy Basker, if you are reading this, that means that you've been chosen to pilot my beloved f/a-18 super hornet, but keep in mind that this aircraft is capable of incredible things and it should NOT be flown recklessly, in the following page you will find an index on every step necessary to pilot this aircraft, it's arranged in the order of the stages required to operate it, nothing should be skipped and no procedure should be rearranged, fly safely."
>yeah, """chosen"""
>under the paragraph there's a photo of the old man, smiling and looking more alive
>in the next page there's an index divided in stages with each stage divided in different procedures
>close the book
>i climb the narrow stairs and look inside the cockpit
>it's extremely clean and the controls labels look like they haven't been touched since this plane came out of the factory
>impressive that a lone man was capable on maintaining this aircraft all by himself
>could i really fly this thing?
>I’ve flown Cessna 172 before but this is completely different bird
>uh?
>there are some words printed on the fuselage along the rim of the canopy
>Maj. Jimmy "silver dove" Basker
>aw
>climb down
>walk around the plane
>there are 2 hardpoints on each wing but nothing attached to them
>the plane has no insignias or markings of any kind
>stepping back i notice that there is something on the stabilizers
>it's a callsign, "SDJ0539"
>so that would be Sierra Delta Juliet 0-5-3-9

>I’ll have to keep an ear out if i ever have to use the radio
>walk back outside the hangar
>i don't know why i never realized that this long clearing was supposed to be a runway
>it seems pretty obvious considering there's a hangar on one end
>yeah guess that "metallic semi cylinder" thing was just as stupid
>it's getting dark really quickly
>i click the button
>the doors give out a thunderous creaking as they move
>closing with that booming thunk again
>see the light turn off through the windows
>if I’m gonna live here i better bring my stuff i left back at my temporary camp
>it's just a tent, a minicooler and a cooking kit but i rather have those handy than leave them out in the wild
>pull out pda, cheap piece of junk i bought from a tech savvy dwarf because it has drawn a map of the area
>something modern phones don't currently have access to
>mark the airfield on the map and head to another mark named camp
>arrive pretty fast since i just walked to it in a straight line thanks to pda
>there's my stuff and an extinguished campfire i made in the evening
>grab the cooking kit and put in inside my backpack
>look inside my tent to see if i left anything in
>my bedroll apparently
>roll it up and strap it to the top of my pack
>take the metal supports from my tent
>put them in my backpack
>they stick out a little
>that's fine
>take the cloth that is my tent and roll it up too
>strap it under my backpack
>now i have a big roll of cloth on top of my backpack and a smaller one under it too
>grab minicooler with one hand and head back to the airfield
>it has gone pretty dark now
>the moon is brightly shinning tonight but the treetops deprive me of that natural light
>i just see the outline of foliage that forms patches of light where moon passes through
>it quite beautiful and relaxing
>today was a good day
>suddenly i see a shadow hastily move along the patches of light
>it passed right above me
>too small to be a bird but too big to be a gargoyle
>feel like being watched
>scan the sky a little
>pull out hi-power out of hip
>continue walking
>pistol at the ready in case anything tries to fight me
>i can hear the distant sound of the animals of the forest
>rustling in the distance keeps me on the edge
>hear heavy rustling above me
>drop minicooler and aim up to confront whatever is coming at me
>see a dark figure with intense amber eyes falling on me
>before i can let out a round the figure falls on top of my chest
>knocking the pistol out of my hands
>i wince in pain
>i look to my right
>my pistol is in the dirt next to me
>i extend my arm to reach it
>my finger tips are gracing the slide
>c'mon c'mon
>i get my finger to grip the slide a little
>try to drag the pistol closer to me with my finger
>but before i can get even get it an inch closer a talon lands on my hand, immobilizing it
>fuck, it pierced the webbing between my thumb and index finger
>i look up to see my assaulter
>just to find those same amber eyes right in front of me
>it's a harpy, a big one
>with brown plumage
>that with her size and eyes, i think she's an owl harpy
>guess that's how she got the jump on me
>stealthy bitch
>before i can try anything i get hit in the chest again
>she has let herself fall on me
>arch myself backward to get her off
>my head bumps with the metal support poking out of my backpack
>wild idea appears 
>"mmmmh, you are not as puny as the men from the caravan, you'll make a decent slave"
>fuck you bitch
>i go for the fake push, inflating my chest and putting my hand on her stomach
>she immediately grabs my hand and forces it to the ground next to my head
>yes, just as planned
>stop pushing
>she lets go and chuckles
>"that's right, the less you resist the gentler we'll be so just sit back and wait for friends to come over"
>i whisper nothing at her
>she leans closer to me
>"huh? you said anything"
>whisper gibberish again
>"come on, speak up i ain't that heavy"
>she gets closer
>"bad move bitch"
>i grab one of the metal rods and pull it out of my backpack
>the harpy recoils from the sudden movement
>she tries to move her head back to dodge my iron rod of vengeance
>but she's too slow
>thwack her across the face
>she falls to the ground on her side
>as quick as i can i get up and grab my pistol
>the harpy tries to get up again
>tackle her as she tries to plant her talons on the ground
>i sit on her chest and begin to choke her with my free hand
>she grabs my hand with her weird feathery hand things at the tip of her wings
>pistol-whip her in the forehead 3 times
>she has stopped resisting
>i get up from her
>she rolls onto a fetal position and covers her head
>she's sobbing
>i can see blood rolling down her face
>"if i had even considered letting you live, the best thing you could do is tell your filthy kin to stay the fuck away from me"
>she tries to get up again
>kick her in the hip to down her again
>i aim for her head
>her sobbing has turned to all out crying
>she stares at me with those big amber eyes filled with tears
>i feel no sympathy for her
>she attacked me first
>before i can finish the flying goblin off i hear more rustling coming from the treetops and from several directions
>shit
>they're in the fucking trees
>open fire on anything that moves in the trees
>my magazine gets emptied quickly
>time to run
>start running as fast as i can
>to where?
>fuck if i know I’m just running for my life
>run for around 7 minutes
>i don't know if they are following me
>didn't bother to look back
>jump over a fallen log on my way
>land on my feet and use the momentum to slide onto my side
>oof
>not as easy as the movies
>lying on the ground i remove my backpack and throw it against the fallen log
>roll onto the log as well
>my breathing gets heavier as i rest from all that running
>pull out pistol and reload it with a mag i had in a belt pouch
>reach for my pack and press it against my chest
>fuck, I’ve lost my bedroll, some metal supports and my minicooler
>shit, it was full of bottles of Stella Artois too
>now I’m more pissed than worried at those Garbo bird women
>if i ever find bombs for the jet I’m testing them on their settlement
>if i can fly the jet that is
>fuck, now I’m inspired to learn
>[activate west coast personality module]
>"finna fuck up some feathered ass if i get the chance"
>...
>.......
>uh....
>where am i by the way?
>pull out pda
>looks like i ran north from where i was assaulted
>i was supposed to head south-east to get to the airfield from my now non-existent camp
>about that
>delete the camp marker from my map
>this map has a route feature which means i can trace my movement route to the airfield instead of going in a straight line
>if by what i heard from some locals before venturing innawoods
>the harpies have a large settlement right by the beach
>that patrol probably headed back to care for their injured friend
>so, trace a wide swing into the deeper forest to avoid more potential encounters with the harpies
>this will probably take like 40 minutes walking
>better start now
>i rather skip the explanation of the walk, absolutely nothing happened except it got dark as hell
>i see the clearing amongst the trees
>to not expose myself to any airborne threats i walk through the rim of the clearing
>under the cover of the trees
>once near the building i prepare my pistol
>run like hell from the tree line and into the door
>open the door with the keys and lock it behind me
>i fall on my ass from the exhaustion
>this wasn't that good of a night
>it's like 9:20, my gorka is full of mud and i haven't had dinner yet
>i was supposed to forage for food but then found the hangar
>guess i forgot about that
>i don't worry
>i have some spare mre's in case i didn't find food
>throw my backpack to the wall
>start to undress from the filthy one piece gorka
>in dinning on my underwear tonight
>pull out my boots, gloves and gorka
>i am now only on my underwear and socks
>grab bag and place it at the foot of the desk
>realize the my hands and head are still smeared with mud and droplets of harpy blood
>go to the bathroom and clean myself as much as i can on the sink
>this bathroom doesn't have a shower pad
>fuck it, I’ll find out how to shower tomorrow
>open up backpack splotching my hands with mud again
>fuck
>pinch mre with pinky finger and thumb as to not contaminate it
>pinch out canteen too
>pull it out and drop it on the desk
>wash my hands again
>pull closer an office chair that was next to the desk
>open mre up
>main course is 3 cheeses lasagna
>prepare the main course on its heating bag
>look for a rock or something to lay it on
>look under desk
>my foot bumps onto something under the desk
>there's a small box labeled "office supplies"
>could be useful
>grab it
>open it up
>it's filled with dynamite sticks and paper clips
>big ones
>......ok?
>slide the box to where it was
>open a drawer on the desk
>there's a stapler and a notebook
>grab the stapler and set it on top of the desk
>set mre on it
>wait
>open the drawer again and pull out notebook
>it's a red leathered notebook with no markings
>it's the journal of old man Jeremy
>oh shit
>should i read this?
>would that be disrespectful?
>if it gets to private I’ll stop
>open the book on the first page
>the first log is dated to July of 2008
>whoa there buckaroo
>fuck that
>skip to 5 months before today
>nothing really interesting except for a very notable exception
>in an entry the old man acknowledges that he's not long for this world and that he desires to seek out a new pilot to take the stick of his hands and to help him out on his last years
>the way he wrote makes it sound like he's calm and that he has come to terms with this reality
>i think that's pretty noble, but damn is it depressing
>3 months before today
>at this point the old man has started to write his custom manual for his aircraft, he mentions "a few modifications" that would make the start up faster and easier
>2 months
>he speaks of a sudden health condition, he never says exactly what it is but does mention "spontaneous exhaustion, weakness on the legs, and not being able to pull as many G's as before"
>a week
>his writing has become desperate, he claims that his time is coming faster than expected and how he should start to look for new pilot sooner than what he anticipated
>yesterday
>"i have a plan for today, it's going to be one of my last flights, i shall take off at noon and head to the new airport of the so called kingdom of champions, can't quite remember it's name but that doesn't matter to me, the new airport should attract pilots from all over the continent, once there i will recruit a worthy pilot and escort him to my airfield where i shall teach him all i know and once proven i will inherit all my everything to him."
>"i have readied the plane and loaded it with more than enough fuel to go and come back, it most likely will take over a day away to find a true successor but it will be worth it, i know it."
>"i will take to the skies after a quick read of the papers on my chair."
>"oh my dear dove, is my time to leave you really approaching that fast?."
>...
>the following pages are empty
>shit
>i think i left the lasagna on too long
>i pull it out of the heating bag and tear it open
>i eat it with the spoon that comes in the package
>leave everything else of the mre
>just the fucking main course
>I’ll eat everything else for breakfast
>after eating i get up and walk towards the bed
>i lay down and look up to the ceiling
>i didn't notice there was a ceiling fan here
>get up and look for a way to turn the ceiling fan on
>go back to bed
>slowly drift off to dreamland
>get woken up by a strange feeling
>it's dark as fuck
>i don't remember turning the lights off
>weird
>hear muffled metallic creaking coming from the walls
>wtf?
>jump out of bed and grab pistol and pda from desk
>check pda
>its 3:47 in the morning
>slowly walk outside
>still only in my briefs and in the dark
>the doors of the hangar are slightly opened and light is escaping through
>there's something inside and it turned on the lights
>rack slide of pistol
>i walk inside the hangar blinding myself in the process
>once my eyes adjust to the light i see something soul crushing
>the plane is gone and in its place there's a gigantic 55.77 feet tall woman in a silver dress sitting on the floor
>no
>she turns her attention to me
>"oh, hello there, are you jimmy's apprentice?"
>nononononononono
>"are you ok? you looked scared, don't be, im Dove, what's your name?"
>i drop to my knees in defeat
>i shout to the heavens for punishing me this way
>"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
>wake up on a cold sweat and breathing heavily
>jump out of bed
>grab my pistol and keys to the hangar and run outside
>the sun is already up and i can hear the hopefully not harpies chirping in the distance
>click the hangar control and wait for the doors to open
>the lights come on
>the plane is there
>and it has not become a giant anime woman
>THANK THE LORD JESUS
>sigh in relief
>close the hangar door and walk inside for breakfast
>never sleep right after eating ever again
>eat the crackers and peanut butter for breakfast, along with the coffee i didn't eat yesterday
>look at my gear on the corner of the room, still covered in mud
>after eating i head to the tool cabinet
>i believe i saw a rubber hose in there yesterday
>open it
>cash, there it is
>grab the hose and take it outside
>pull my backpack upside down
>empty its contents on the floor
>my phone flies out and lands on a towel i had packed
>oh shit
>check it
>its fine, it got a soft landing
>leave phone on the desk
>grab the keyring and towel
>throw gorka, boots and backpack outside
>there's a water spout on the outside of the hangar
>connect the hose to it
>open the hangar door
>douse my gear with the hose
>scrub the mud of with my hand
>throw my soaking wet gear to the clean hangar floor
>dropping it to the ground would have been counterproductive
>take my man-pants of and throw them to the floor too
>begin to shower with the hose like a dog
>I’m standing in the open butt ass naked throwing water at myself
>and it feels fucking great
>dry myself with the towel once done
>put my same underwear again
>walk into the hangar
>if the old man lived here then he must ha-AHA!
>there's a wooden closet next to the big ass boxes
>the has to be clothing in there
>run towards the closet
>platplatplatplatplat.mp3
>open it
>there's an olive green jumpsuit along with some weird vests with a lot of shit attached to them
>there's a pilot helmet resting at the bottom of the closet next to some boots
>oh, this is the flight gear
>put the flight suit on
>it fits me a bit loose but i think it’s okay
>then there are the boots
>shit I’m barefooted
>run back to get my socks
>platplatplatplatplat.mp3
>get my socks from the small building and run back
>platplatplatplatplat.mp3
>put my socks and the boots on
>they fit me snugly
>nice
>this will do for now
>i feel good, i feel inspired
>today, I’ll fly
>but first how do i put this fucking vest on?
>after much struggling to get the survival vest on i decided to check the manual
>open the manual on the "pilot" section
>after a careful read i have come to the conclusion that i am, in fact, a fucking idiot
>let's speed up the learning process with a cheesy 80's training montage
>"ACTIVATE CHEESY 80'S MONTAGE MUSIC"
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBN0LF7mlIU&t=43 [Embed]
>proceed to equip gear as described in the manual
>except the headgear and gloves
>wait, if I’m gonna leave for maybe 1 hour or less, then i should close down the place
>waddle out of the hangar
>fuck, walking with this is uncomfortable as fuck
>loosen some of the zippers of the g suit
>much better
>grab my pistol and pda
>lock down the place to ensure nothing getting looted whilst I’m away
>run back inside the hangar
>strap pistol to my thigh with one of the straps of the g suit
>put pda on one of the pouches of the survival vest
>grab my head gear
>put cranial cap on
>dramatically walk to the plane with the helmet on one hand and the manual on the other
>climb up to the fuselage of the plane via boarding ladder
>before jumping in the cockpit i realize
>"wait, if I’m gonna be inside, the who is gonna remove the ladder?"
>fuck, this is what ground crew is for
>unhitch the ladder and push it out of the way
>make sure it fell away enough to not get stuck on the landing gear
>jump into the cockpit
>fucking hell, the leg space is absolute shit
>cramped as fuck
>don't mind it, I’ll get used to it
>right, so, starting the aircraft
>open the manual
>follow the diagrams on the pages to make sure everything is up to spec
>the wall circuit breakers are in place and no switches are out of order
>accommodate the hearing protection on my cranial cap
>connect helmet to the plane and put it on
>engage the batteries to on
>the voltage gauge jumps up to 24 volts on both batteries
>that's more than enough so i guess that's good
>flip the oxygen on
>god i can't believe I’m actually doing this
>turn on the HUD, the DDI's and the MPCD
>the manual goes into detail about "the automatic startup assistant"
>it basically runs must of the pre-ignition procedures automatically
>it declares that this saves 15 minutes of the startup
>nice
>flip the APU on
>hear the ATS start up
>close the canopy to reduce the noise coming in
>the manual say that to access the automatic startup assistant i must click the SCS button 5 times in a row
>i do so
>a lot of prerecorded warnings start to test themselves
>i look through the rearview mirrors how the control surfaces start to align properly and then move erratically
>this is normal, they are testing themselves
>right then, the plane is ready for start up
>crank the left engine and give it a little power for it to spool up
>do the same with the right engine
>disengage the parking brake
>taxi out of the hangar and align with the runway
>turn anti-skid on
>probably doesn't matter, the runway is grass, I’ll be sliding like a wet bitch covered in baby oil
>pull out the keyring out of my pocket and close the hangar
>almost ready for take off
>set left DDI to fuel monitoring system
>the central and wing tanks make a total of 7200 pounds of fuel
>i know there's fuel gauge on the console but that shit is tiny and almost unreadable
>set right DDI to the attitude indicator because i can't understand the HUD for shit
>hmm what else?
>OH SHIT THE WINGS
>unlock the wings and fold them out
>move a side mirror to see the wing tips
>they are fully extended
>good, lock them in place
>what else?
>oh my g suit!
>tighten the G suit to ensure i don't pass out on the stick (the g suit doesn't prevent this it just slightly lowers the possibilities of that happening)
>i am almost set to fly
>to be honest I’m shitting bricks right now
>"come on anon, you have flown before, this is just like a Cessna but faster"
>no it's not, it's the polar opposite but encouragement is welcomed
>even if it's my own
>ok, here we go
>down the flaps to half a notch
>push the brakes
>throw the power to 80%
>i hear as the afterburners come alive
>the plane starts to move but so slow that the speed indicator rapidly switching between 1 and 0
>fucking shitty grass runway
>disengage the brakes
>as soon i feel the plane rolling i push the balls to the wall
>full throttle, the engines roar is muffled by the canopy and ear protection yet the sounds is very much empowering
>the fast acceleration is making me sink on my seat
>the entire cockpit is shaking because of THE FUCKING GRASS RUNWAY
>the speed indicator is climbing numbers much faster than what i had anticipated
>once it reaches 184 knots i begin to pull on the stick
>oh god oh fuck oh god oh fuck oh god oh fuck oh god oh fuck
>the sudden pressure makes me feel dizzy
>yep, those are the g's
>the plane has stopped shaking
>i am no longer in contact with earth
>my pull on the stick loosens as i clear the line of trees at the end of the runway with a lot of distance to spare
>get the landing gear up
>once above 3000 feet switch the flaps to auto
>I’ve done it
>I’ve actually managed to take off in a jet I had never flown before
>with difficulty but i did it
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2M7QwHnVXQ starts to play on my head
>level the plane out and reduce power to 60%
>I’m leveled at 5400
>i wish to go a little higher
>not now first I’m gonna check the view
>i can see a lot from here
>the coast and its nearby mountains and cliffs
>on the other side of the cockpit i can see very distant villages with a very big city on the horizon
>man, this feels amazing
>and it would feel better if i didn't feel like I’m about to turn inside out
>I’m gonna fly down the coastline
>the airfield is relatively close to the beach so it'll be easier to find my way back than to venture inland
>align myself with the coastline
>I’m traveling at about 310 knots
>the ride is surprisingly smooth once up high
>all of this feels nice
>you know what would mix well with this peaceful cruise?
>80's power rock
>pull out my pda from pouch with one hand still on the stick
>switch from map to multimedia player
>find the song that I’m looking for
>man i never thought I’d listen to this in this context
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeX9b98UAoc
>yeah, all that i need now is some monster zero ultra
>bank slightly so i can look at the beach below me
>see it gradually transform from a calm sandy beach to a rocky shore
>the rocky shore climbs to become a seaside cliff as i approach mountainous landscapes
>mumble to the song out of reflex
>"hm hm raging fire mmm sky tonight, i wanna ride on a silver do-"
>"OH!"
>oh wow
>i hadn't noticed that
>hmm, i wonder if the old man like cheap trick?
>hmmm
>oh hold on, is that an island that i see?
>yes it is, an off-shore island
>and it seems inhabited
>there's a big structure on the shore on the island
>might be worth checking out
>i reach for one of the bigger pouches in the vest
>i think there were some binoculars in there
>yeah, i found them
>pull them out and adjust them to maximum zoom
>they are pretty shitty but serve their function decently enough
>holding the bank angle i spy the large structure on the beach
>it's a beached ship, and the residents are scrapping it for metal
>i move my sight to the main town
>i see the telltale sign of this place's nature
>a bunch of humanoid shapes flying around
>that has to be the harpy settlement the locals mentioned
>and by the decorations on the buildings, i say they are holding some form of celebration
>get a flashback to those amber eyes trying to kidnap me
>a plan of vengeance starts to formulate in my head
>"how about we spice these party up then?"
>descent down to 1300 feet
>the sea still looks distant but the clifftops look relatively close
>continue flying straight
>far enough so the island doesn't seem recognizable
>start a wide swing of a u turn
>wide enough so that the forces won't churn my insides
>align my flight path right over the island
>i may not have ordinance but i do have a different type of boom
>the target speed is 666.73 knots
>devil's speed as my father calls it
>damn i miss my dad's flying lessons
>what was the safe distance for supersonic shockwave?
>i think it was something along the lines of 2,200 feet of distance minimum
>how about we make it 500 feet
>I’m low enough that i can see cliff's face when i look to the side of the cockpit
>once i think I’m in a good distance i throw the power to the max
>i can hear the afterburners roar again
>my insides begin to shift to the back of my body
>oh god
>i don't think i thought this through completely
>fuck it, I’m invested in blowing everybody's eardrums
>i can see the island rapidly approach me
>"c'mon man, hold your shit together"
>589 knots
>"icandothis icandothis"
>I’m so close
>break 600
>nope nope nope
>feel like I’m about to implode
>pull the throttle back down
>the island passes down beneath me
>the afterburners close
>the sudden deceleration throws me forward
>the harness yanks me back in the seat
>ended up flying over the island at 610 knots
>that won't blow out anybody's eardrums
>but I’m sure i rattled some hollow bones down there
>look at fuel
>3600 pounds left total
>god damn those afterburners just chug gas
>gonna fly back to the airfield now
>I’ve had enough fun today
>hope those feathered bitches got the message to not fuck with me again
>follow the coast line until i see the clearing and the hangar down below
>on this angle i can see a little river not too far from the hangar
>i didn't see it taking off because it was behind me at that moment
>that'll be a good place to forage for food
>i turn wide to align myself with the runway on the opposite side of the hangar
>the maximum landing speed for a military jet is around 180 knots
>but the manual said the maximum safe landing speed for this airfield is 140
>I’m starting to get nervous
>i descend to 200 feet
>remember that the height on the HUD is above the ocean surface so 0 is not my landing height
>the airfield strip was 83 feet above the ocean surface is i remember correctly
>i pull the throttle to a minimum
>my speed is 210 knots
>that's in the safe speed to lower the landing gear
>lift the airbrake
>the change in surface makes the nose of the plane pitch up
>i counter it with the stick
>when i slow down to 160 i lower the airbrake
>lower flaps to full
>i have a controlled descend speed that's around 150 feet
>the landing gear is pubic hairs away from scraping the tree tops
>if i could clench my anus anymore it would collapse into a black hole
>i reach the clearing
>as soon as i leave the trees behind i pitch up to both slow down and descend
>i end up touching down at 138 knots
>the touchdown was hard and my spine could tell you all about it
>it wasn't a smooth landing but at least i didn't break anything
>i think...
>i pull on the brakes and the plane starts to slow down on its roll
>stop some distance away from the hangar
>pull out keyring from pocket and press the button
>the hangar doors open and the lights inside shine
>taxi the plane inside
>to kill the engines i pull on a tap on the throttle levers and pull them all the way down
>wait a few seconds for the engines to stop
>open the canopy and pull the oxygen mask off me
>fold the wings up
>turn everything else off
>wait, how am i gonna back out of the hangar?
>...shit
>fuck it, I’ll find a way later
>disconnect the mask from the oxygen tank and climb out onto the fuselage
>i jump off the plane and with my pistol and big ass manual still strapped to my legs
>waddle away from the plane and undo the g suit
>walk to the gear that i threw on the floor before leaving
>take everything off me and dump it on the fancy desk inside the hangar
>put gorka, boots and backpack on, grab pistol and pda of fancy desk and pack them
>grab the towel and drape it over my shoulder
>walk out and close the hangar
>walk into adjacent building
>for convenience I’ll call it house from now on because i ran out of ways to say small concrete building next to the hangar
>open the tool cabinet looking for something i saw and didn’t mind earlier
>a plastic bucket with a lid
>upon further inspection i realize the plastic bucket has in fact a slightly smaller tin bucket inside
>oh this is perfect, i thought that I’ll had to do 2 trips to the river
>that’s right
>were eating river food tonight
>take the buckets and get out of the house
>start pda and check the map
>the river is not on the map
>wut?
>doesn’t matter
>just go straight into the tree line and I’ll stumble with it
>no fear
>i can’t get lost with this mighty device of mine
>as long as the batteries don’t run out
>start the walk
>it takes me about 15 minutes to get to the river
>its waters are very clear and beautiful
>get naked
>pile up all of my gear on the riverside
>jump into
>oOOooOooOh fuuUUuuUuuUuck
>its cold ass fuck
>climb out of the river and grab tin bucket
>walk along the shallows
>flip a rock
>two crawfish crawl out
>yes! We got crustacean presence!
>spend the next 30 minutes collecting crawfish
>end up collecting 37 little packets of meat
>fill their bucket with a little bit of water so that they don’t die on transit
>i don’t want ammonia poisoning, thank you
>put their bucket besides my gear and grab plastic bucket and its lid
>dip the bucket on the deeper end to collect drinking water
>i spot the shadow of a fish swimming in this direction
>the waters are clear but due to the angle i have on the surface of the water i can only see a dark shape
>lightbulb.jpg
>once i have enough water i keep the bucket submerged
>the fish darts it to my direction
>yes, come to papa
>i don’t know what scared it to swim so fast so suddenly but that’s good for me
>when the gets near i lunge the bucket and scoop it up
>immediately close the lid
>advancement made: tactical fishing
>walk out of the river feeling awesome
>take a victory piss on a nearby tree
>dry myself with the towel and get dressed
>walk home with both buckets in hand
>i can hear something hitting the lid of the plastic bucket from time to time
>must be the fish trying to jump out
>get home
>open the front door and step inside
>realize that there are still stains of mud on the floor and the desk
>how i didn’t see those earlier i don’t know
>I’ll clean that later
>grab my cooking kit and go outside again
>fuck i forgot the axe
>retrieve axe and start collecting fire wood
>15 minutes later I’m starting a campfire with my lighter next to Jeremy’s grave
>it’s starting to get dark
>surrounded the fire with rocks so i don’t accidentally set the entire runway on fire
>drain the crawfish’s water into a pot
>put pot over some red charcoals
>after about 2 minutes the water begins to boil
>the only seasoning i have with me is a salt shaker and a little bottle of olive oil
>pour some salt into the roaring water and mix it with a metal spoon
>pour the crawfish onto the boiling water
>it starts to foam
>after 7 minutes of boiling i take the pot out of the fire and set it of the grass
>the grass sizzles to the touch of the pot
>i scoop a single cooked red crawfish with the spoon and blow on it to reduce the heat
>take it with my hands and crunch its tail off
>slurp the meat of the tail
>do the same with the claws
>the meat of the claws is pretty insignificant but it’s still something
>the salt really sunk into the crawfish and its meat is soft and slightly creamy
>its almost melting in my mouth
>toss the inedible part into the fire
>eat another 3 the same way
>the delicious crawfish along with the rising moon and the sounds of the forest and the crackling fire make for a comfy atmosphere
>yes, this feels nice
>ooh i almost forgot I have a big fish on the bucket
>i open the lid of the bucket and then reach for my frying pan
>i splashing sounds followed by a long gasp for air
>wut?
>i slowly turn around to see what could have made that sound
>a louder splash throws water on my shoulder
>i jump on my feet and completely turn around
>the water in the bucket is shaking
>get closer to see what’s making all that noise
>fish don’t gasp for air so what the fuck is it?
>there’s a shadow on the bottom of the bucket
>try to reach in to grab it
>it suddenly swims up and jumps out of the water splashing me and making me fall on my ass
>wipe the water off my face
>there at my feet is a tiny creature with the upper half of a woman and the body of a fish
>oh shit neggers i caught a river mermaid
>she starts to crawl on the grass breathing heavily
>grab her with one hand
>she tries to pry my fingers open with her hands
>the fish part starts squirming hard
>she looks about 11 inches from head to tail fins
>the woman part has pale skin long black hair
>the fish body is long and eel like with a deep blue coloration
>i put a finger under her chin and raise her head
>she has no gills and breathes through her mouth
>weird, what kind of fish woman is this?
>she bites my finger in my distraction
>i flinch and drop her
>she tries to crawl away
>before i can grab her again she stops
>she looks around and begins to panic
>she must have realized she’s nowhere near the river
>i scoop her up with my hands
>she’s sniffling
>d’aaw poor thing
>I’ll throw her back to the river
>hear the howl of wolf in the distance followed closely by many responses
>I’ll throw her back to the river tomorrow
>put her in the bucket again
>she gives me puppy eyes as i put her in
>she must think I’m going to hurt her
>crack the shell of a crawfish and drop it in the bucket
>she hesitates but eats it none the less
>guess there won’t be a main course for dinner
>…
>….what does mermaid taste like
>I’m not gonna test that right now
>i chuck another 3 crawfish into her bucket and eat the rest
>it’s not filling enough but what can i do about it? Eat the mermaid?
>i really could try some
>i could only eat the tail and it would be fi-
>NO NO NO I AM NOT EATING HER, I AM NOT DESPERATE FOR FOOD
>but i am curious
>but not THAT curious so no fish woman for dinner
>…
>…fuck it
>the fire is on and i have my frying pan at hand
>besides, it’s not like a single mermaid gone is gonna impact their population that mu-
>no! dickhead! don’t hurt her!
>why not, she’s just an animal that partially resembles a human, it’s no different than eating any other fish
>WHY AM I HAVING TROUBLE CONTROLLING MYSELF
>snap back into my senses realize that I’ve been twitching and trembling for the last minute
>look back at the bucket
>the mermaid is peeking over the brim with wide eyes
>don’t blame her
>must have looked like i was having a stroke
>i ignore the mental conflict that just happened in my head
>must be the fucking isolation
>get up and use the left over water from the crawfish to extinguish the fire
>sit on the moon light for a bit moving the water of the bucket around
>the mermaid surfaces and stares at me
>pat her head a little
>she looks uncomfortable at first but then eases into it
>”I’m sorry for acting weird but i promise i don’t want to hurt”
>she tilts her head and smiles
>i guess she doesn’t understand English but it looks like she got the message
>through the next couple of minutes i suddenly get this urges to do stupid shit
>like my consciousness randomly telling me too slam my head against the wall, to dig out Jeremy, to bite the mermaid’s head off
>i ignore all of it
>my head begins to hurt
>get a vision of me sticking the muzzle of my pistol into my mouth and pulling the trigger
>OK THAT’S ENOUGH
>I DIDN’T SUDDENLY LOOSE MY HEAD
>SOMETHING OUT THERE IS FUCKING WITH ME
>stand up and pull out my pistol
>scan the tree lines from both sides of the runway
>that’s when i see them
>2 amber dots among the tree tops in the distance
>they are eyes
>those eyes I’ll never forget and never forgive
>”fucking bitch”
>aim my pistol towards the pair of eyes
>i scream “I SEE YOU BITCH”
>she jumps out of the tree and lands on the middle of the runway, revealing herself in the moonlight
>it’s the same harpy that attacked me last night
>she has bandages rolled around her forehead with a red spot were the bandages soaked blood
>she is walking towards me with a smug smile
>”my my, looks like my little runaway slave got an upgrade from pathetic grunt to mediocre pilot, and judging by the grave I’d recon that you didn’t kill the old man who lived here no, you found him death and decided to abuse his property claiming that you were “letting him live on with you as a successor”
>that’s…
>…oddly specific and accurate
>”you’ve been spying on me haven’t you?”
>she fakes a surprised gasp and says in a sarcastic tone “oh my, what gave it away?”
>her presence alone grinds my gears and her cunty attitude makes me want to shoot her on the spot
>nothing is preventing me from doing so
>amongst the noises of the forest i hear a faint flap of wings behind and above me
>a splashing sound followed by a surprised “EEK!” from the mermaid warns me of the oncoming attack
>i jump to my right
>a surprised squawk is followed by the thud of a different harpy hitting the ground where i stood
>she has blue plumage and hair and looks way younger than the owl
>i grab her by the scalp and lift her up
>”HEY HOW DID YOU KNO-“
>shut her up by slamming her head to the wall of the house 2 times
>she falls to the ground limp
>”oh wow that didn’t go as planned”
>snap my aim towards the direction of the voice and fire twice
>there’s no one there
>hear her whisper in my ear “behind you”
>sumo kick backwards ala champion gundyr except way less cool
>nothing behind me either
>hear her whistle to my left
>aim at her with my pistol
>she’s standing on Jeremy’s grave
>and she’s holding my mermaid
>she’s struggling to get free as the harpy gives me a toothy grin
>that’s it
>I’ll break her fucking limbs and throw her into a fire
>she hops off the grave and licks the mermaid across her face
>”mmm what a tasty catch you have here”
>i grind my teeth in anger
>the moment she tries anything I’m shooting
>she winks at me
>my vision fades for half a second
>when it returns i see myself surrounded by a dozen copies of the harpy
>all of the copies are holding copies of my mermaid
>so this is how she was fucking with me
>she’s an illusionist
>i spin around aiming my pistol to any copy that moves
>they all speak at the same time
>”if you figure out which one is the real one I’ll let you aquatic friend go”
>i keep spinning looking for a clue as to which bitch i should shoot
>with a passing sight i notice that one of them has a slightly brighter hue of colors in her plumage
>that has to be it, all the other ones look exactly the same
>i keep moving my head around
>pretending i didn’t notice her
>stand still facing a fake illusion
>ready my pistol
>snap at the real bitch and pull my trigger
>my bullet goes right through her left thigh
>in that same instant all the other fake copies vanish and my vision clears
>she screeches in pain and drops the mermaid to the ground
>the mermaid starts to crawl towards me with a scared face
>the harpy kneels down and clutches her wound
>she lifts up a shivering palm of her feathered hand
>”imsorryimsorryimsorry pleasedonthurtmeanymore!”
>well that was a quick change of mind wasn’t it?
>fucking cunt
>feel something tugging at my pants
>look down to see my mermaid crawling up my leg
>pick her up with my free hand
>she has tears swelling in her eyes
>look at the scar in my left hand
>stance my right leg back
>the harpy lifts her head up to face me
>bad idea bitch
>roundhouse-kick her square in the mouth
>the momentum of my feet transferring to her mouth throws her to her side 
>she some drops of blood fly out of her mouth
>feel like a pro-choice activist
>I raise my pistol to her head
>déjà vu
>we’ve been in this place before
>she covers her head with her hands
>”w-WAIT! My entire family knows where I am! If you kill me they’ll get the entirety of harpy city to come fuck you up!”
>I detect a bit of a threatening tone under all that fear
>well, she has a point bit still
>she ain’t leaving intact
>or more intact than now
>I kick her again in the stomach
>she cries out in pain
>I’m going to restrain her
>start dragging her by a leg to the house
>before entering I put the mermaid back into the bucket
>the harpy puts little fight to being dragged around
>weird
>fuck I already used the rope for Jeremy’s grave
>fuck it
>drag her outside again and restrain her with the hose I use to bath
>she sits with her arm-wing things bound to her torso
>she’s sniffling and the left side of her face is swelling a lot
>bruises start to appear on the swelling
>that’s what you get
>walk towards the other unconscious harpy
>lift her head up and drag her to the bucket
>little mermaid is at the bottom of the bucket
>probably trying to hide from the situation
>scoop up water and splash garbo bird woman #2 in the face
>she slowly comes back to her senses
>when she snaps into what’s going on she begins to trash about
>plant pistol to the back of her head and scream at her “STAY STILL OR I’LL ICE YOU, BITCH”
>that was quite effective
>she raises her hands things up and shivers in place
>I’m going to give these 2 and ultimatum
>make her walk towards the bound harpy
>snap my fingers to get her attention
>she slowly raises her head up to look at me
>ask the blue one “can you carry her”
>she gulps saliva before answering “y-yes”
>”right then, you are going to carry her to where ever shithole you came from and never come to bother me ever again, understood?”
>she nods
>the owl harpy throws me a glare
>”if I ever see any one of you coming to pull bullshit I’ll shoot without warning”
>I step back
>pistol still trained on the blue harpy’s head
>”ok, now get the fuck out of here”
>she does so, grabbing her friend with her talons and taking off towards the coastline
>I keep an eye on them until I no longer see them in the night sky
>I holster my pistol and sigh in relief
>I really wanted to kill them
>whatever, hopefully I scared them enough to not come back to bother me…
>again…
>I grab the bucket with mermaid and take her inside the house
>I put her up on the desk
>she emerges and stares at me worried
>I smile and pat her little head with my finger
>she kinda smiles
>like a worried smile and then just sinks to the bottom
>she’s still and with her head hidden between her arms
>I think that’s how mermaids sleep
>get this weird feeling in the back of my head
>I’m going to check the hangar
>just to make sure those bitches didn’t do something stupid before attacking me
>I click the button
>the doors open and the lights come on
>the crates are in order and nothing seems out of place
>the jet is perfectly fine and it looks like it’s ready to roll out of the hangar
>the desk is cleaWAIT!
>the jet is facing the opposite direction that I parked it
>it looks like I could just climb in and roll out
>what?!
>how in the god damn?!
>I would say something along the lines of I don’t have time to check what could have made this happen
>but I don’t have a way to apply an excuse like that
>I move around the plane looking for anything suspicious
>anything that could have moved the plane
>after 5 minutes of crawling around I find nothing
>weird
>there’s an entire section dedicated to the hangar and runway on the manual
>I’ll check if it mentions something about this on there
>I grab the manual of the fancy desk and walk outside
>close the hangar behind me
>walk into the house and sit on the chair on front of the desk
>open the manual on the hangar section
>start reading
>fuck it’s hot in here
>turn the ceiling fan on
>continue reading
>there’s plenty of basic information about the entire place
>remember when said the runway was a long clearing?
>well, when I said long I meant pretty fucking long
>its 1.118 miles long! (1799.24 meters for the outsiders on the audience) according to this book
>also on that note I should probably mention that those big boxes on the hangar are pretty fucking big as well
>after like 30 minutes of eyeing the book I find what I’m looking for
>a “gravitational re-accommodator” turns the nose of the plane towards the exit
>it goes into more detail
”the gravitational re-accommodator is a device that functions by stimulating a gravity crystal inside the device with an electrical current, the crystal is bound to the plane to direct its nose to the hangar doors and the wings to their respective side of the hangar, three points of binding to the plane are the minimum amount needed to have a stable re-accommodation”
>under this paragraph there’s a warning highlighted with yellow
“Warning: the crystal inside the device is extremely powerful, maintenance or calibration should be made only within the company of a minimum of 1 magic user with extensive experience with gravitational magic devices”
>besides all of this there’s a note written with pen that reads
“call Larry the wizard”
>it has a phone number attached
>coolio
>keep reading
>perhaps there other hidden goodies around
>a section about the fuel tanks
>I’ll need this for what I’m planning tomorrow
>repurposed crate into storage room
>I’ll check it tomorrow
>a basement access on the repurposed crate room thing
>management of solar panels
>about the water collecting system
>etc.
>etc.
>everything here is certainly useful but I’m starting to get tired
>I’ll go to sleep soon
>ooh! TACAN signals?!
>there’s a list of different signals of nearby locations
>there’s even a signal for here in the airfield
>wow, if I’ve actually read this entire thing that would have made my earlier flight a lot easier
>there’s a signal for and airport on a big city nearby
>there’s a radio frequency written in pen next to it
>I’m assuming it’s the airport’s tower frequency
>awesome
>I’ll go there tomorrow
>for now it’s sleep time
>I undress to my underwear and turn the lights off
>I lay on the bed and drift off
>have cool dreams about gobbling genocide
>the morning comes
>I wake up naturally with yawn
>stand up and put on the flight suit
>walk to the sink and wash my face
>push my hair into shape
>pick pda from desk
>its 8:56 in the morning
>oh fuck
>the pda’s batteries are running low
>pull out phone charger
>connect it to a wall socket next to bed
>good thing that dwarf was smart enough to put a standard charging port on this thing
>leave it charging on my bed
>I check the bucket
>little mermaid is there swimming around
>she looks up and smiles at me before surfacing 
>I pat her head and return the smile
>I sit down and start to eat my second mre I brought
>its ham and onion pizza slice
>I only have one left after eating that one
>stand up and grab the bucket with mermaid and my pistol
>I’m going out to release her back into the river
>I walk outside and lock the door behind me
>getting to the river is easy
>just walk in a straight line from the right side of the runway
>after 15 minutes of walking I find the river
>walk up it to find where I caught her
>find the rocks where I laid my clothes the first time I came here
>and the three where I pissed
>lower the bucket into the shallows
>she swims out and looks back at me
>I pat her head one last time before leaving
>she hugs my hand and kisses my index finger
>she smiles one last time and swims off
>feel a little sad now
>but it’s the right thing to do
>maybe I’ll come back to visit another time
>that is if she stays around here
>well, now, back to camp
>getting from the river to the hanger is a little more difficult because even a little deviation can throw you way of course
>but that’s what I have my… pda… for...
>…
>…fuck
>well…
>better start walking then
>as long as I don’t lose my way I should be fine
>gotta get back to the house to inspect all those cool things I read yesterday
>4 minutes of walking in a straight line later
>I hear screams
>female screams
>I pull out my pistol and load it
>speed walk my way through the brush of the forest
>see some figures moving ahead
>look like they are in a clearing
>sneak as close as I can
>the screams have ceased
>peek through a bush’s leaves to see a group of 3 goblins shoving a young girl into a cage
>they have a horse-drawn wagon besides them with 2 horses resting on the ground
>she’s on her underwear and her mouth has been taped shut
>she struggles inside the cage as she is loaded in
>get angry at the sight
>fucking green niggers
>analyze their equipment
>one of the goblins has a hi-point carbine, another has a dagger and the last one is unarmed but is carrying a keyring around
>none of them seem to be wearing some type of armor
>I’m going for the ambush
>I’m going to pop the one with the gun in the head and rush the others
>concentrate and plan my movements
>the gobbling with the keys moves to the front of the wagon
>the other 2 stay behind and appear to be chatting
>ok
>now’s the time
>aim my pistol to the back of the head of the armed nigger
>get a steady of a grip as I can
>BANG
>the gobbling falls to the ground like a brick
>the gobbling with the dagger screeches at the sight of his fallen comrade
>emerge from my bush
>the gobbling screeches once again but in anger as he runs towards me
>put three holes in his center mass
>he drops to the ground in pain
>kick his dagger away from him and place another bullet on his head
>that’s five bullets out
>run to the front of the wagon to see the last little green bitch trying to make a run for it
>steady myself again and shoot him four times
>two shots miss but the other two find their way to the back of the gobbling
>he falls with a scream of agony
>walk toward it and plug the fucker in the forehead
>welp, that’s the most action I’ve had all week
>grab the keys from the dead greenskin
>now to see what I can loot from here
>oh and to possibly help that girl too
>on my way there I notice that the horses are completely calm
>like I didn’t just fire 10 times practically next to them
>even I can still feel my ears buzzing a little but these fuckers are fine
>whatever
>walk to the back of the wagon and climb in
>there are a lot of creatures in different cages
>mostly wild animals and some fairies on a glass cage
>all of them don’t react to my presence except for the girl in the cage
>as soon as she sees me she begins to shake
>her cage is on the floor and it’s very cramped
>she’s clearly hurt by this position
>I can only see her body and lower face because of the angle
>I kneel down to level with her
>notice something furry moving besides her
>wut?
>tears are forming in her eyes
>a pair of canid ears are pressed to the top of the cage
>her ears
>oh, she’s a half-beast
>god damn it
>here I was thinking maybe I finally found a qt grill to rescue so she would love me
>instead I’m given a product of systemic zoophilia
>well, guess I’m not getting a gf tonight
>open the cage with the key
>she starts to struggle to get out
>I help her by pulling her by her arms
>once she’s out she sits on the cage and breaths heavily
>I can see her beastly attributes more clearly
>a tail and ears colored brown like her hair
>her underwear consist of a form of loincloth similar to that of a sumo wrestler and a simple long strip of cloth wrapped around her upper chest
>I notice that her hands are bound together by rope
>I say “English?”
>she lifts her head up and nods
>”ok stay here, I’ll help you out” I said as I exited the wagon
>I see the nigger blade on the ground
>pick it up and head back inside
>cut her ties with the nigger blade
>she immediately pulls the tape of her mouth with a gasp
>she pants as she rubs around her mouth
>that must have hurt
>”t-thanks”
>she stands up still catching her breath
>”w-hat’s your name?” she asks
>”um… anon, my name is anon”
>”ah, thanks anon, could.. you please pass me those keys you got there?”
>she points to the keys I picked up from the gobbling
>I hand them to her “here, no problem, what’s your name”
>she takes the keys and coughs “Huntress Ablia, formally, but just call me Ablia”
>huntress eh?
>she doesn’t look much like a hunter
>”is it normal for people around here to call each other with title and all?” I ask
>she takes a deep breath “yes, but only formally like when meeting a colleague or making business with someone you don’t know personally “
>honestly that’s a bit unnecessary but ok
>I’m the outsider here after all
>I just shrug
>she opens a footlocker and pull out a pile of hides
>she unfolds it to reveal the pile of hides is actually a fur cloak
>she puts it on and pulls out a pair of fur pants which she too put on and straps with a rope
>finally she pulls out a pair of leather shoes and a stainless steel levergat with black furniture
>this last item being the most impressive of them all
>I whistle “nice gat”
>she looks around her “gat?”
>I correct myself “gun, gat is a way to call a gun sooo… nice gun”
>”oh, thanks I guess, I bought it on the big city near here”
>she hands it over to me
>the steel and black rifle looks incredibly clean
>I check the receiver to see make and model
>on the left side “HENRY REPEATING ARMS-RICE LAKE, WI-MADE IN USA”
>and on the left “CAL. 45-70 GOV’ T”
>damn, I think I got a little hard
>”pretty cool” I said as I handed the rifle back
>she grabs it and nods
>”thanks anon”
>she pulls the front cap of the magazine tube and starts to load cartridges into it
>I fumble my fingers a bit “sooo… mind telling me what happened”
>she puts the cap back on and works the lever
>she sighs as she slings the rifle to her back
>”I’ll tell you outside” she said as she locks the footlocker again
>she walks to me and signals me to move outside
>I do so and leave the wagon
>she exits to and locks the door of the wagon with a padlock
>where did she pull that one of?
>”this is my wagon and inside I was transporting the goods I’m planning on selling to a neighboring village”
>she point on the direction behind me
>”if you follow the road that way you’ll get to my village, that’s where I came from before getting jumped by those ugly bastards, which again, thanks you for saving me”
>I just nod with a smile
>”this way leads to a bigger village where I usually trade the creature I catch for food or potions”
>”ah, ok thanks, I live alone around here, didn’t know there were villages around so thanks for telling me”
>she nods before gasping and putting a shocked expression
>”ANON QUICK! What caliber is your weapon?”
>I say “uh… 9mm”
>she smiles and her tail start to wag from side to side rapidly
>she undoes the padlock and jumps inside the wagon
>she comes back with an ammo can and hands it to me
>I open it up
>it’s filled with 9mm
>drool a bit
>she smiles “here, take it as a thank you token for helping me out”
>I snap out of it
>”are you sure? This seems like quite a lot of ammo”
>”oh don’t worry about it, I don’t have use for it anyway”
>she walks to the front of the wagon and jumps on the front bench
>the horses stand up to her presence
>“hope to see you around again anon! HI-YA!”
>the horses start trotting and the wagon moves away
>”bye Ablia!”
>well, that was nice
>so I’ll just mark this road on my maOH FOR FUCKS SAKE
>my dependence on technology has caused me a problem of substantial size
>pick carbine because why the fuck not
>loot the body of the gobbling to find two extra mags filled with 9mm
>I walk to the bush were I hid to find my way back to the trail I was making to get to my house
>at least I got a shitty gun, a knife and a box of 9mm out of this little circus stunt
>oh and somewhere to barter
>find my footing and walk for another ten grueling minutes
>this time carrying all this loot
>finally after so much brush stepping I see a clearing among the trees
>could it be?
>step closer and see that the clearing is stretching
>it is!
>I’ve finally made my way back!
>but I’m at the end of the runway
>walk the 1.118 miles of runway trying not to cry
>today is clearly not my day
>reach the front door
>open it trying not to collapse on myself
>drop everything off on the desk
>flight suit and I are soaked in sweat
>I’m gonna have to rinse it and myself before flying
>otherwise the cockpit is gonna smell like overdue cheese and feet
>remember that the harpies left with my hose
>fuck
>now I’ll have to bathe with the bucket
>…
>THE BUCKET!
>I FUCKING LEFT IT ON THE RIVER BANK
>FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
>what have I done to deserve this
>AND ALL THAT BECAUSE I FORGOT MY FUCKING PDA
>…but now that I think about it
>if I had walked directly back I would have probably not heard Ablia’s screams for help
>then I wouldn’t have known about the nearby villages
>I wouldn’t have gotten a can of ammo
>and I wouldn’t have been able to save her
>guess I break even after all
>I rest for a few minutes
>In that time I reload the 10 shots I’ve fired today into my mag
>get up again and make sure to take my pda this time
>walk directly to the river
>find my bucket
>dump the water and fill it up again in the river
>just to be safe
>before leaving I look back at the river for a few seconds
>nothing
>there’s no movement on the river
>walk back to the house
>undress and shove the soaked flight suit into the water
>pull it out and wring it repeatedly
>after a few times I wring it as much as I can and open the hangar
>extend it on the floor and wait for it to dry
>remember the thing about the crate place
>walk to the crates
>eyeing the biggest one
>one of the sides has a handle
>twist it and pull
>the crate is tall enough for me to enter normally but I have less than an inch in headroom
>the moment I try to stand on my tips I’m busting my head
>there are some boxes in here
>one particular box catches my attention
>it looks pretty old compared to the other ones
>it has an iron cross painted on it
>the paint is flaking off but it’s still recognizable
>with anticipation I slowly open the wooden box
>and inside there is!
>another wooden box
>with a weird sort of leather strapped around it
>covered with parchment paper and packing foam
>rip the piece of paper off and pull the box out
>out of the foam I can see that the wooden box has a weird protuberance with latches on one side
>the other side slightly curves inwards
>there’s a different piece of wood sticking from the bottom
>realize what it is with a gasp
>open the wood stock and pull out a beautiful pistol
>it’s a c96!
>no wait, it has a magazine well and an extra selector
>oh
>it’s a shnell-
>snel-
>shchnellfoa-
>snailfürher?
>it’s a mauser m712 for fucks sake!
>but where are the magazines?
>dig around the styrofoam filler to find three empty mags
>cool!
>I bet there’s a box of 7,63 mauser around here  then
>I start to dig around not finding anything related to firearms
>just trinkets and papers and something covered in a tarp among smaller boxes
>god damn it
>well, at least I got a cool pistol to look at and not shoot
>boy that ain’t frustrating at all
>what are you talking about?
>…
>anyway
>I remember about a hatch
>it leads to a basement if I recall correctly
>maybe there are some other goodies there
>get on my knees and start to look for it
>why look for a big hatch that’s obviously on the ground?
>because the ground is covered in a uniform layer of dust and soot
>it’s completely gray and dirty
>so yeah I’m crawling all over the dust on my underwear
>no exactly comfortable but I got nothing better to do
>moving my hand around I feel a little gap on the floor
>this must be where the bottom of the crate was removed to accommodate the hatch
>I move my hand a bit forward to feel something metallic
>bingo
>move my finger around the floor in a broom-like motion
>the dust kicks up making me cough
>free the hatch from its dusty crust
>lift it up
>it’s a concrete tunnel with a rebar ladder going down
>the void rest at the bottom of this ladder
>its pitch black down there
>I’m gonna need a flashlight
>…or not
>fuck it
>stand up and rest my feet on the rebar ladder
>start my descend
>if there’s some sort of magical creature bullshit that’s being contained down there then I died like I was born
>with my nipples uncovered and being a retard
>at the bottom I can barely see but some walls that lead forward
>I move with my hands on the walls looking for a light switch of sorts
>my right hand touches something plastic
>I move both my hands to the object on the wall
>feel around the frame and switch
>flick it on
>a light dimly flickers before turning on completely
>the room before me contains a big plastic tank with some panels
>what is clearly a panel for circuit breakers with some weird schematics plastered on the walls besides it
>on closer inspection of the panels reveals that the tank contains water from a water collector on the roof
>weird, it doesn’t seem like there was anything up there
>there’s a healthy supply of water according to a see-through marker on the tank
>what’s really interesting is how the water flows and gets distributed to the entire facility
>it gets collected by the rain catcher and passes through a basic filter
>it gets stored on the tank and from there it goes to the entire place
>except the sink in the house
>that one has its own pathway through a heavier filter that then deposits the water into a smaller tank with mineral rock
>in short, I can drink from the sink
>the circuit breakers
>they are normal circuit breakers nothing outstanding
>the papers besides it just labels each switch and what controls
>besides that there was nothing else here
>so no loot but at least now I know how to check for the basics of this place
>I turn the lights off and climb out
>close everything behind me as I walk out to the hangar again
>take my underwear off and walk outside
>start pouring water on me from the bucket I had left out
>wash off all the dust that had collected on me
>remember I have to refuel the plane before departing
>oh fuck I’ve never done this before
>well actually I haven’t done most of anything about this plane before
>get my towel and dry myself
>get manual and walk inside the hangar
>I’ll have to follow the manual again
>one unnecessary complicated time wrangling the hose later
>I manage to connect it to the fuel tank
>connect the end of that hose to the pump
>and connect the output of the pump to another hose
>I open the manual to see where I must connect it
>the manuel says there’s a panel I can lift up on the right of the plane below the cockpit
>I obey manuel 
>open the panel to see a hole that should fit the hose
>below it there’s a spooky red circle that I don’t know what it is
>it may be the self-destruct button so I better not tuch it
>connect the hose and walk to the pump
>there’s a panel with buttons on the pump
>I turn it on and the buttons start glowing
>CIA buttons
>manuel tells me that I must input how many pounds of fuel I want to pump
>I input 4,350 pounds of fuel and press start
>the pump whirrs and I can hear the fluid start moving through the hose
>this will take a while
>but at least now I know how to refuel the jet
>all because of manuel
>thanks manuel
>my ever so loyal McGuffin of knowledge
>I leave the plane to refuel while I go get dressed to fly
>after getting dressed I pick up the ladder and haul it to the plane
>spend like 15 minutes trying to set it correctly
>give up for now and consult manual to see what the fuck am I doing wrong
>turns out
>trifling with the fucking ladder in the first place is a mistake
>the hornet has its own deployable ladder
>this one is just for maintenance or making adjustments on the cockpit
>fuck
>but since I jumped out last time instead of getting down with the ladder now I gotta use this ladder to get on the cockpit to deploy the hornet’s ladder to not have to use this ladder
>double fuck
>there’s definitely a way to get it down accessing to another one of the side panels of the plane
>otherwise how the fuck do they do it on the carriers?
>it’s just that I’m both lazy and impatient to deal with that kind of autism
>so I rather fuck about with the ladder and look for a switch that says deployable ladder inside the cockpit
>this behavior is what’s going to kill me one of these days
>watch me like, I dunno, get sucked into a turbine because I was too lazy to walk around the plane or sum dumb shit like that
>anyway
>after being a retard with the ladder I manage to get it stable
>I climb in and open the manual to look for the ladder thing-a-ma-jig
>find no thing-a-ma-jig
>then how the fuck?
>look for something else on the manual
>boarding process, this should do it
>…
>…“oh you have to be fucking joking”…
>…
>…the boarding ladder can be pulled out without need to board the plane…
>fffFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
>I…
>I should really read this whole thing
>that would reduce my headaches by a lot
>i begin to climb out of the cockpit
>my hand touches something that feels like a net behind the head rest
>climb out and look back
>there’s a cargo net on the space behind the seat
>uh, neat, I could put my backpack in there
>I climb down the ladder and detach it from the plane
>wrangle it back out of the way again
>walk back to the plane and check below where the wing protrudes from the fuselage
>lo and behold, there it is
>the outline of the panel that covers the ladder
>there’s a little handle in it
>I reach it and pull it downwards
>the ladder set up almost automatically
>i start to laugh
>not in a “haha funny” way
>more in a “I am both frustrated and disappointed at myself I don’t know how to react” kind of way 
>I walk into the house and grab my bag
>I put everything inside it so I don’t have to strap it to my legs
>except the thing that go in the vest
>i.e. flashlight, binoculars, pistol, etc.
>close everything with locks
>I walk back to the plane and see the fuel line still attached
>shit that could have gone wrong
>quickly detach it and push it aside
>climb back to the plane
>hmmm
>how am I supposed to close the ladder?
>sit on the wing and pull manual out of the bag
>keep reading where I left off
>ah ok, it closes automatically with the Automatic Startup Assistant
>but it doesn’t mention how it closes
>if it’s a servo or more magic bullshit
>doesn’t matter
>as long as it works
>put manual back and put bag under the cargo net
>jump in the cockpit and start up as normal
>but before starting the engine I configure the left DDI to the navigation tab
>I’ll set up the TACAN to that nearby airport
>turn TACAN on and input the signal
>I memorized it, its 87Y
>the heading needle on the compass starts to go crazy
>that’s because the signal is being blocked by the terrain
>it should fix once high
>continue startup and roll out of the hangar
>unfold wings and close the hangar door
>make sure lights turn off
>put flaps at half
>slam the balls to the wall and take off
>oh god I forgot how my internal organs didn’t like this
>flying at 6000 feet over the sea the TACAN signal gets through better
>the needle on my electronic compass locks north-east
>I bank right to get on route
>at this altitude I’m swimming in between the lower clouds
>disappearing in the white puff to see the terrain gradually change when I get out is kinda comfy
>after passing a large cloud I see a very big city in the distance right in front of me
>that must be it
>I turn of the TACAN and use the keypad to input the frequency of the airport
>I nothing comes through yet until I start to hear some background noise
>“eh- [static]-lie-[static]-can you- [static] with tower?”
>I have no idea what that man just said
>“I repeat, callsign Sierra Delta Juliet cero five thirty-nine, can you make contact with tower?”
>oh shit dat me
>I connect my mic
>“this is SierraDelta to tower, I had a bit of static on that first attempt at contact, over”
>“understood SierraDelta, my radar indicates that you are moving around the 310 knot mark at 6,000 feet, can you confirm this?”
>the way he speaks is not appropriate to be at tower he sounds disinterested and distracted
>hopefully he doesn’t make me land into an oncoming plane on the runway because he was being retarded
>I look to my HUD
>indeed, I’m flying at 313 knots
>“SierraDelta confirming attitude status, over”
>“right, imma need you to cut that back to 250 knots chief, you are cruising aggressively right now”
>???
>I thought ATC weren’t allowed to speak like east coast beach bros
>I comply either way
>adjust the power and open the airbrake for a few seconds until I’m flying at 240
>at this point I can see the airport
>it’s fairly large and it has three runways
>two are parallel to each other
>the other one is diagonally passing through the other two
>“so chief what are your plans for today?, you landing or just passing by?”
>“I’m landing, over”
>“yeah imma need you to hold back for a few, we kinda busy right now so circle around, also, we don’t got regulations yet so you don’t need to worry about pilot lingo or whatever, ok?”
>…ok
>what a weird place this is
>and I’ve only flown over it
>but from here it seems like this city is in quite a good shape
>lots of buildings that seem advanced compared to the rest of the cities I’ve been
>can’t be completely sure though
>looking back down to the airport I can see a small plane at the end of a runway
>it’s about to take off
>THAT’S why I’m still circling up here?
>dude there are another two runways I can land
>come the fuck on
>it takes off and by its silhouette I can see it’s an a-4 Skyhawk
>“SierraDelta, this is tower, you are free to land as you please”
>man, if this ATC is giving me a bad first impression
>decide to take the diagonal runway because the end of it is closer to the terminals
>after getting in position I lower the flaps to full and deploy my landing gear
>as I descend for touchdown I hear a faint “oh shit” coming from tower
>ok?
>land decently, not to hard not too smooth
>I give it 7/10
>after braking to a stop I contact tower again
>“tower, can I get taxi directions?”
>“uh, yeah, kinda busy right now, just take the last exit of the runway and park on the left side of a gray baron 58, you can’t miss it”
>oh my fucking god
>“also, my boss wants to talk to you so stay there when you park”
>I would bang my head against the plane but that would probably be a bad idea
>I roll out of the runway as “““instructed”””
>after crawling for a few minutes I spot the gray baron that guy was talking about
>it’s fucking disheveled
>the paint is flaking off
>there are some scary rust spots along the fuselage
>the control surfaces are out of line
>yep, that thing is definitely not flying soon
>anyway
>I park next to it and turn off the engines
>open the canopy when they go silent
>take my helmet off and do my hair
>have to be presentable I guess
>I hear engines coming my way
>in the distance I see a bunch of cars driving towards me
>oh boy here we go
>I jump out of the plane with my backpack and just wait for them
>the convoy stops in front of my plane
>in the front and back there are black jeeps wranglers with tainted windows
>in the middle there’s a pushback tug, a golf cart with a bunch of dudes in overalls and a black Bentley mulsanne with pitch black windows
>nervous laughter.mp3
>one of the rear doors of the Bentley opens and out comes magilla gorilla, a buff black dude in a suit with a perpetual pissed frown stuck to his face
>behind him comes out a woman that looks like that bossy bitch from “over the hedge”
>they both walk up to me as I stand there with a blank stare
>hope she doesn’t ask for the manager
>she walks up and eyes me out
>“so what’s up with you? what’s your business here?”
>wow, she does talk like how she looks
>“I um, I came here to visit and maybe find a jo-”
>“ah, you came here looking for a job, yeah we could use you”
>use
>ouch
>“well I’m gla-”
>“yeah good, tell me on the way”
>oof
>she starts to walk back to the car, the black guy following behind her
>“Ruth, you sit at the front”
>the black guy responds
>“but ma’am, your sec-”
>“oh it’s fine, just sit at the front”
>they get inside
>the woman looks back at me and gives me an annoyed glare
>“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO STAND THERE ALL EVENING? GET IN HERE”
>oh shit
>I walk to the car and climb in the backseat with her
>the tug and the golf car brake off the convoy and park besides my plane
>“don’t worry about them, they take care of your plane from now on”
>I mean, if they are gonna care for her then I’m grateful but I still don’t know what the fuck have I gotten myself into
>as we drive by some hangars the woman speaks to me
>“what’s your name”
>blunt, didn’t even sound like a question
>“i-uh, my name is Anon”
>“Anon what”
>geez
>“Anon Anonson”
>she writes on a clipboard
>were did she pulled it from?
>“okey Anonson”
>she pulls a pack of chewing gum from one of her pockets and takes one into her mouth
>her chews are loud and wet
>uncomfortably loud and wet
>try to not visibly cringe
>“so whatcha here for”
>“I’m- I hear about the city so I came over to explore and maybe make some cash, I… I didn’t expect to be received like this”
>“really? You work for anyone?”
>“can’t say that I do”
>“huh, so you are independent”
>“guess you could say that”
>every time I answer she writes on her clipboard
>“wa... what are you writ-”
>“first of all, I ask the questions here and second of all I’m filling your employment form”
>my…
>…WHAT?!
>“ex-excuse me?”
>“your employment form, you want to make cash, don’t you?”
>“I mean, thanks for the opportunity but can’t I know the details before I get the job?”
>“don’t worry, you’ll know everything by the end of the day”
>she finishes writing and sets the clipboard on her lap
>the car comes to a stop
>she and the buffed black men exit the car
>I do to
>she starts to walk towards the door of a big building next to the control tower
>it’s pretty obvious that I should follow them
>as I catch up I see that the mulsanne we were on was parked besides some other luxury cars
>a Rolls Royce phantom, a Jaguar f-type and a McLaren 720s
>whoever these guys are, they definitely have a good income
>…and taste of cars
>the sudden roar of jet engines makes us all turn back
>another jet has landed here
>a mig-29UB is rolling down the runway and takes an exit towards the hangars we came from
>the woman groans
>“ugh, those dickweeds are back”
>she walks faster to the door with the gorilla bodyguards beside her
>…ok?
>we enter the building
>it looks like a hospital of a third world shithole on the inside
>the floors are covered in a thin layer of dust
>the walls look like they’re made of cardboard
>and the ceiling tiles are stained, misplaced or just missing completely
>guess they spend everything on cars and suits
>we arrive to a lone door in a hallway
>the 2 men stand by the door and open it for us
>inside it’s a complete contrast to the rest of the building
>the walls are made of wood with carvings of flowers
>the floor is carpeted
>there’s a fancy crystal desk on the middle of the room
>it has a big laptop on top of it
>behind it is a fancy office chair and a big bookshelf with a rack where a remy 700 sits
>it has black furniture and a big long scope
>nice
>we sit on opposite sides of the desk
>she hands me the papers and a pen
>“so, mister Anonson, could you please fill the rest of the form?”
>the only blank spaces are age and nationality
>“miss? Could I know what is going on here?”
>she sighs
>“mister Anon, we need you in this company we really do! A man like you, capable is piloting such an amazing aircraft would make for a great asset in our ranks!”
>bitch! You didn’t even know I existed 15 minutes ago
>“what is this place and who are you?”
>she looks down and rubs her temples
>“oh god he’s getting difficult… we are the Balthazar company, we are a multi focus yada yada yada we move stuff and people buy it”
>“so you are a trading company?”
>“CORRECT MISTER ANON! I see that you also possess a great intellect, yes, truly a great asset for us”
>that sarcasm was so blatant it physically hurts
>“so what does that have to do with me?
>“well, you see mister Anon, we have airfields because we move stuff…”
>she drags her open palm above her head in an arching motion
>“…through the air! Wooooaoaoaoao”
>she finishes that sentence with jazz hands
>“ok ok, I get it, you want me to protect your cargo planes and shit”
>“yeah, that and some other miscellaneous things”
>“is there something else I need to know?”
>“not really, just sign here and you’ll be in”
>she hands me a piece of paper and a fancy pen
>I’m no retard so I’m reading this shit forwards and backwards
>…
>ok
>so basically I become an “associate mercenary pilot”
>what a fucking title
>but the basic of this is simple
>my plane is mine and I get my own hangar
>I no longer have to pay a shit ton of fees that would have made me a broke wage slave
>but I have to obey the rules of the company and complete a monthly quota of contracts
>and contracts will either be assigned to me or I’ll be able to willingly take them at a certain office
>simple
>what I don’t like about this?
>if I choose a contract I’ll have to pay for my own fuel, ordinance, maintenance and accommodation
>my accommodation, not the plane’s
>for some weird reason
>so I’m forced to do the company’s bidding until I can afford to pay for my own missions
>fucking fantastic
>“guess this is as good as it’ll get for me in this land”
>I sign the contract and hand it back to her
>she puts it in a folder and smiles
>“good to have you on board mister Anon, you can start right this very day if you wish, but you’ll be notified in advance when you get an assignment by the company”
>“just like that? I’m in? are you sure you’re not forgetting something?”
>“oh yes thanks for reminding me”
>she grabs a weird tablet and points at me
>“look directly at the camera please”
>*chk*
>the device prints a photo of me
>she grabs it and places it on my folder
>“that’s it, you can leave now”
>I stand up and head for the door
>“also, I called a shuttle to take you to your hangar, it’s white with yellow details and it will be arrive for you outside”
>I nod my head and thank her
>hesitantly thank her
>leave the building
>as I cross the doors the “shuttle” stops in front of me
>the thing is more akin to an elongated golf cart with cushioned seats
>the drivers points at me with a smile
>“Anon?”
>I nod and hop in
>“ma-an! you won’t believe how much time it has passed without new pilots, aha, new guys are always welcomed”
>“yeah, I’d say too welcomed to be honest”
>“ye-eah! I know, they get pushy out of excitement, t’is like- like when you spend most of the month driving a stupid go-kart around the same places over and over and over again and when you finally get your off day and you go to your family and you stick to them for the entire day until they get visibly irritated about it, you know?”
>…
>“…u good?”
>“oh, absolutely I- oh hold on”
>he slams on the brakes and almost sends me out the fucking windshield
>a beeping alarm comes out of the dude’s pocket
>he pulls out his cellphone and resets the timer on it
>“time for the pills!”
>he pulls out an orange container of pills and pops three into his mouth and swallows them
>he shudders and shakes his head
>“righty-oh, let’s move on!”
>he stomps the gas sending me sinking into my seat
>I- uh…
>I don’t think I want to work here anymore
>the unstable man continues to drive me down to the hangars
>it a bunch of rows of hangars and there are a lot
>like almost forty in total or something near that amount
>but most either look abandoned or are just empty with the doors opened
>“here we are, row number C, hangar letter 2, have a nice evening”
>he speeds off as soon as I hop out
>I’m greeted by my plane sitting quietly inside
>the hangar is a bit smaller than the one at my strip
>there is a fuel tank, missile racks and one of those weird carts used to load the cannon of the plane
>hmm, looks like just the necessary but where am I going to sleep if I have to stay here more than a day?
>I’ll figure that out later
>meanwhile I’ll look around
>as I step out the hangar in front of mine opens its doors
>metal start to pour out of the hangar
>it’s “for whom the bell tolls” by Metallica
>from the inside two guys step out head banging to the rhythm
>they look at me and then at each other
>they scream “NEW GUY!” and start running at me
>uh…
>help
>they stop in front of me
>they look like they’re in the early twenties
>“EHEHEY NEW DUDE! how’s it going?”
>“uh, hi?”
>“yehehey, what’s your name my guy? who you is?”
>“my uh… ANon! my name is Anon Anonson”
>I extent my hand for a shake
>one of them fist bumps my open palm
>“hey, cool, cool, I heard Anons always attract interesting things with them”
>“I uh… what?”
>“I’m Dany Bertman, codename Tiger, and this right here, is my main man and the coolest wizzo in this airfield Rodrick Smith Leopard”
>the other guy behind him pops up
>“wus good?”
>I just raise my palm and grin awkwardly
>“together plus that big bird over there we make “Big Kat” the chilliest craft in this airspace”
>he points behind him
>I look over to see the mig-29 from earlier in their hangar
>“ain’t she a beaut? mhm, mig-29UB”
>“it’s really well kept”
>“hey thanks mane, if you need anything just call, neighbors help neighbors, but right now we going to hijack the intercom signal to enforce penis inspection day so see yah”
>and just like that
>they leave
>well, that was a bit weird
>I turn around to head back to my hangar only to see a man staring at me from within the hangar neighboring mine
>when he sees that I noticed him he simply walks back to the shadows of his hangar
>[menacing onomatopoeia]
>…ok?
>the man looks like another pilot
>should I meet him?
>guess I should if he’s gonna be my neighbor
>I walk over to his garage
>as soon as I step inside the lights come on
>I cover my eyes while they adjust
>“you must be the new guy”
>his voice is that of a grown man with a bit of a German accent
>I uncover my eyes
>the man is sitting on a fancy chair next to a fancy coffee table surrounded by other fancy chairs similar to the one he’s sitting while holding a mug of what I can assume is a hot beverage either of the coffee or tea kind.
>*mental gasp for air*
>he looks like he’s on his early 60’s
>grey hairs dotting his hair and almost dominating his beard
>but still very fit
>“y-yes sir I am”
>“what’s your name son”
>“Anon Anonson sir”
>“hmmm”
>hmmm?
>hmmm what?
>“is there something wro-
>“no, it’s just that… hmmm, I’ve heard of many Anons before, your relatives?”
>“I don’t thinks so sir”
>“hmmm, anyway, Hermann I. Junkers, at your service”
>“Junkers? Like Hugo Junkers?”
>“yes, like him”
>“are you related?”
>“I don’t think so”
>“oh”
>aw c’mon
>“well, enough about me, here is my lady”
>he points toward the F-104 sitting in his garage that for some reason I decided not to pay attention to until now
>sorry, my brain was more focused on the aging man that could still beat the fuck out of me in a fight
>the plane has a jabog 34 scheme and original Luftwaffe markings
>in the tail of the plane is painted a sidewinder covered by a red ribbon
>not gonna lie, this is probably the most beautiful plane I have seen so far
>in my life
>“so young man, you know how to fly, I assume, but do you know how to take on contracts here?”
>“not really sir, I kinda just signed a contract and got throw here”
>“yes, and also I suppose no one has offered you to open a credit account yet”
>“I uh, I assume that’s like a bank account around here, no”
>“not really a bank account, it’s just a digital piggy bank to store money and make payments”
>“sir I think that’s what a bank account is”
>“if it was then it would be backed by a bank, not a megacorporation”
>“oh, ok”
>megacorporation?
>I thought this thing was just a trading company
>I have to look more into this place
>“I’ll help you out to get an account set up, otherwise where is your paycheck gonna go? And also maybe I’ll show you how to take a contract in the meantime”
>“I- thank you sir, when do we-”
>“follow me”
>ok
>I follow Hermann out and where the golf bus thing dropped me off
>“we’ll go back to the main building of Trading, that’s where you’ll get set up”
>I just nod in response
>after a few seconds a golf bus stops in front of us
>it looks exactly the same as the previous one except that the driver is different
>he’s hunched over the wheel
>his eyes almost empty with purple bags forming under
>he looks like the human equivalent of a tortilla chip that has gone soft and stale
>and he’s chewing something in his mouth loudly
>ew
>we both get on the golf-bus
>…golf-shuttle?
>the man looks at Hermann and speaks very slowly and in monotone
>“hello Hermann, how’s your day?”
>“hey jester, it’s been good so far, here to teach the rookie the ways of the place, how’s the family?”
>“decent”
>he spits whatever he was chewing on the road and pulls out a white and red packet of gum
>nicotine gum
>and takes a handful and shoves it in his mouth
>…
>what the fuck is up with these shuttle drivers and chemical abuse?
>“hmmm, I see you got back into the gum treatment, eh Jester?”
>“mhmm”
>“what dosage did you get medicated this time?”
>“10MG’s”
>the fuck?!
>“I didn’t know nicotine gum came in more than 4”
>“really? Nicorette has some in 6, they overpriced though”
>he pulls out his packet of gum and hands it to me
>it’s a tin can, much like a tin of cinnamon Altoids
>the colors are the same but the way they are arranged is very different
>and in the center with big golden letters is written “Balthazar Nicotine Gum”
>and indeed it’s marked as a 10MG dosage
>I turn the packet to read the underside
>it’s filled with warnings, the most notorious one says “consumption by human size or smaller individuals not recommended”
>…ok…
>I hand it back to Jester
>“it’s not for sale yet, it launches next week but the guys at cargo owed me a favor, so you know, in case you want a box?”
>“I’m good, thanks”
>Jester takes us to the building where I got conscripted against my will
>he drops us of and speeds off without saying anything
>not a goodbye or even a simple wave of the hand
>we just get off and he steps on the gas
>Hermann chuckles as he sees him speed away
>“a necromancer once mistook him for one of his servants”
>[old man chuckle intensifies]
>MFW
>inside the building Hermann show me around
>there’s very little to note here
>we arrive at a desk labeled “Finances”
>“to get your account set up just go there and tell that man that you are a new employee and that you would like to open an account”
>“aight”
>I walk to the desk
>the man behind it seems to be fixated on his computer monitor
>“um, hello”
>“mmmm”
>“I’m a new employee and I would like to open an account”
>“mhmm, name?”
>“um, Anon Anonson”
>“hmmm”
>he start typing on his computer at a superhuman speed
>“mmm right”
>he hands me a keypad with 4 spaces on a little screen
>“create your 4 digit pin”
>I type it and hit enter
>“confirm your pin”
>I enter it again
>“there”
>“mmmmhmm”
>suddenly the whir of a printer sounds from behind the desk
>the man reaches under and pulls out a card
>he hands it to me
>it has my personal info and photo
>“that’s all?”
>“mhmm”
>“that was fast”
>“we already have most of your information”
>…ok
>“uh, thanks sir”
>“aha”
>what the fuck is wrong with the people here?
>I walk back to Hermann
>“got it”
>“good, now let’s teach you about contracts”
>we walk a bit until we reach another desk
>this time Hermann accompanies me to its front
>“hey there Joe”
>“hey Hermann, what do you need this time?”
>“teaching this guy how to get some work”
>“really? A new pilot?”
>“yup”
>“nice, hey come over here”
>I go there and introduce myself to Joe
>he explains to me how to take contracts
>it’s just literally just walk up to here and take them
>that simple
>“good, now that you know how to take contracts, we’ll get you in one”
>wut?
>“Joe, get him in my current contract”
>“alright, how will you split the pay?”
>“50/50”
>“aight, he’s on schedule with you”
>I- um
>what just happened?
>“alright, thanks Joe”
>we walk away from and I asked Hermann what had happened
>“you’re gonna fly with me tomorrow on a mission, we’re escorting some cargo planes coming in the morning, there kinds of contracts are the easiest and more common, but the pay is low”
>“ok, but couldn’t you have given me more of a choice? You just dropped me into the deep end of the pool”
>“just like my father did to me when I was growing up”
>“did your father force you to fly a jet with him?”
>“no, he forced me to ride a bike with no training wheels”
>“…”
>he just nods and looks off
>by the face he’s making I can tell that he’s having a flashback
>“…ok…”
>we exit the building and take a shuttle back to our hangars
>“so, thanks for the lesson, I guess”
>“no worries, here have this, you’re gonna need it”
>he digs around a cardboard box that was on the floor of his hangar and pulls out an alarm clock
>those old timey ones that have bells and a hammer and are fucking annoying as shit
>“I- thanks”
>“we wake up at 7 and are leaving by 9, got it?”
>“yeah but where am I gonna sleep? I can’t afford a place on the barracks”
>“just ask those loud guys with the mig for a hammock and a pillow, I know they stockpile those like they’re worth gold, and that is all, class dismissed, you can leave now”
>I thank Hermann and as I’m saying goodbye I hear a familiar voice come from behind us
>familiar for the wrong reasons
>“correspondence for Mr. Hermann”
>I turn around to see those feathers
>those eyes
>that punchable face
>it's the owl bitch
>her face turns to a frown when she realizes it’s me
>“YOU!”
>instead of normal clothes she’s wearing a black uniform and cap
>she starts angrily trotting to us
>talons clacking on the floor
>out of instinct I go for my gun
>Hermann grabs my wrist and stops me
>“what on earth do you think you are doing son?!”
>“this feathered cunt has been trying to kid-
>the harpy tackles me to the ground
>she sits on my chest and I start to try to force her of me
>she grabs my fist and tries to stop the inevitable
>her weak arms are no match and I manage to get my hands around her neck
>she starts slapping top of my head with all her strength
>I tighten my grip
>she starts drooling, her eyes roll back and she stops slapping me and just tries to free herself
>I’m winning!
>I’M WINNI-
>Hermann punches me on the top of my head
>making me lose my grip on the bitch
>I grab where Hermann hit me and I groan in pain
>motherfucker almost knocked me out with one bonk
>he grabs the harpy by her jacket and drags her away from me
>she starts coughing violently
>good
>“WHAT IN HEAVEN AND EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!”
>I stand up, still rubbing my head
>vision is blurry
>the harpy points at me
>“h-he beat me up and then shot me in the leg!”
>“because you tried to enslave me… twice!”
>“aw come on, harpy slave work is being more like a servant than an actual sla-
>”I don’t give a shit I’m not becoming someone else’s ser-
>“WOULD YOU TWO SHUT UP FOR A SECOND”
>I look over at Hermann
>he is really fucking pissed
>like red hot steel fury
>“I get really mad when people scream around me for no reason, so no more screaming!”
>he looks at both of us
>“UNDERSTOOD?”
>I slowly nod
>the harpy does the same
>I think we're both about to be equaly fucked by Hermann
>“you two work under the same roof now, so no beatings and no enslaving, ok?”
>“I- ah fuck it, ok”
>the harpy hesitates a little before taking a deep breath
>“ok, but outside this base! Your ass is mine!”
>one of my teeth chips of rage
>“well, that’s a start, I would have preferred to start with an introduction thought”
>the harpy drops the angry face and starts to sweat
>she glances at me before letting out a sigh
>she stiffens up and gives Hermann a military salute
>“Iyame Nasu, cargo officer, I’ve come to deliver an important message from research and development”
>“why is an officer delivering mail instead of a courier?”
>“we… are short on staff today”
>“right, and where’s the message?”
>her face turns red
>she starts picking up the papers she dropped when she tackled me
>“he-here sir”
>“thanks, dismissed”
>“I- um…”
>she walks away
>she gets on a shuttle and drives off
>…Iyame eh?
>Hermann opens an envelope and reads the its content
>“hmmm these assholes get some nice data with me once and now they won’t leave me alone”
>“you got an R&D department?”
>“don’t get your hopes up, the good experiments are hidden to everyone but a selected bunch”
>“geez, you don’t have to say it so harshly”
>“sorry, but still, the public one are still very impressive, ever heard of the g11?”
>“kraut space magic?”
>“yeah, whatever you call it, some guys are working on an upgraded prototype to combat the overheating problems the originals had, they hold weekly demonstrations”
>“that’s cool, when are they?”
>“every Sunday”
>“so tomorrow”
>he just nods
>“if we do our job fast you may even get to see it, but you are free for now, go explore the base or city if you want, just be sure to be ready to fly by tomorrow”
>“yes sir”
>I walk away happy with my new clock in my hands
>I see that the MIG guys are coming back to their hangar
>they are walking and laughing like hyenas
>“hey dudes”
>Dany comes up to me while Rodrick leans on the wall of his hangar
>still laughing
>“he-hey Anon, what’s up?”
>“hey what’s all the laughing about?”
>“oh we put a bug on the intercom system and we were thinking of stupid shit to say through it”
>“wait, you were being serious about that?”
>“oh yeah we were, tomorrow morning everyone in base will know our names”
>“um… ok… soooo, Hermann told me that you could help me out with a hammock”
>“oh sure sure, hey Rodrick, bring Anon something to pull the sneaky one”
>“pull the sneaky one?”
>“that’s what we call sleeping in our hangars to not pay for a room in the barracks”
>Rodrick comes over still wheezing
>he hands me a hammock and a pillow before going back to the hangar
>“we should have offered them to you the first time we spoke”
>“it’s ok, I’m going to go out for a bit, see you guys later”
>“aight see ya”
>I drop the stuff off at my hangar and check my backpack
>everything’s good
>I take a shuttle out of the airfield
>it takes me a bit to find my way out of the base but I make it thanks to a handy map in a wall
>the “you are here” kind of map
>at the entrance/exit a guard asks me for my account card
>I hand it over and the man scans it with a bar code scanner hooked to a laptop
>“am I being charged something?”
>the guard smiles at me and explains that the card some sort of identification
>ok, so the card is more than a credit card
>that’s cool I guess
>the buildings in the city are of a kind of Federal style architecture
>and the buildings are packed in with narrow streets made of polished stones
>like a nice combination of early 1800’s American cities and Venice
>uh, the Venice part is without the canals
>the locals are a varied bunch
>mostly humans and elves though
>they speak a weird language with a lot of hard R’s
>oh god, I forgot other languages exist
>hopefully someone with knowledge in English will help me out in case I need it
>I spend most of the day walking around seeing what I can find
>there’s some sort of ATM looking machine a few blocks away from base
>it has the Balthazar logo on it
>I put my card and code in to check my balance
>which I’m sure is zero
>I click balance option and surprise surprise
>it has 100 credits?
>…ok, cool I guess?
>keeping on walking
>I find a laundromat
>a sign outside marks all the languages the staff talks
>it thankfully includes English
>I enter to see that most of the costumers inside are sitting around washing machines in their underwear
>wut?
>a cashier calls me over
>“hey, English?”
>he has a Russian accent
>“by your face I see that you are new here, aren’t you?”
>I nod
>“ok, no worry, it normal to get on your undies to wash your clothes but if you still feel weird you can rent suit for while your clothes wash, three credit”
>I rent a grey jumpsuit and change myself in a dressing room
>I put my gorka and flight suit on a washing machine and sit there while a bunch of people around me are talking to each other almost naked
>and it’s perfectly normal for them
>after the cleaning the sun starts to set
>I grab a turkey sandwich and a 7-up from a corner store and head back to base
>it feels good to finally have a relaxing evening
>jester picks me up in his shuttle and we head to my hangar
>on the way I see Iyame stopped by the side of the road
>she’s kicking the shuttle she was riding earlier as smoke rises from the hood
>it must have broken down on her
>why she hasn’t flown away is still a mystery to me
>maybe there’s a rule against flying in base or some dumb shit like that
>who knows, I don’t and I don’t care for I have an opportunity on my hands
>I quickly tell Jester my plan
>he doesn’t really care but will help me out because he “doesn’t like that ball of feathers with a bad attitude” either
>we pull over next to her shuttle
>Jester readies himself as I look back at Iyame
>“need to be somewhere?”
>she looks at us with shifty eyes
>shit, she might see through me
>she sighs and starts walking towards us
>“I need to get to the cargo department quick, and ah… thank-
>I tug on Jesters leg and he steps on the gas hard
>“THEN FLY AWAY TWEETY BIRD!”
>“YOU FUCKINg assHole!”
>as we speed off I see her grab her cap and throw it against the ground in anger
>hear her unintelligible screeches of anger with a pinch of frustration
>I start to laugh my sides off while Jester simply chuckles a bit before shutting off back to monotony
>I get to my hangar and thank Jester as he drives away
>I set up the hammock on the hardpoints of my f-18
>pillow is ready, clock is set, sammich and soda have been consumed
>the night breeze will keep me cool
>goodnight
>the wind rocks my hammock as I begin to drift off
>a bunch of weird muffled metallic clanging interrupts me slumber
>whomst'd've?
>the clangs end with muffled hysterical laughter
>oh it’s the MIG boys
>after the laughter the noise subsides and I can dream again
>a sudden ringing wakes me up
>I rise so fast that I bonk my head against the wing of my plane
>ow fuck
>turns out the ringing was my fucking clock
>it’s 6 in the morning and the sun has started to rise
>fuck me, that was fast
>no matter
>I still feel like shit
>a rested shit but still shit
>but that’s normal so I’m good
>I turn off the clock and get out of the hammock
>walking outside I see Hermann wiping his arms with a towel in front of his hangar
>“ah, I see that you are awake, how was the night”
>“I would honestly have preferred a bed but it was good enough”
>“well, you’ll be able to buy a bed someday, just make sure not to put it right behind the engines of your plane, unless you like cleaning messes”
>a bit of an obvious advice but still welcomed
>“so, you ready to fly?”
>“right now?”
>“no, in like, 2 and a half hours, the ground crew needs to refuel and rearm our planes and we need to have breakfast, and you need to wash your face”
>he pulls out a bucket of water and hands it to me
>I was my face and rub my eyes
>“I’m going to the cafeteria to get breakfast, you want to come?”
>“yeah sure”
>I grab my backpack and we take a shuttle to the cafeteria
>on the way I see some rolling tanks of fuel and some trucks full of people and missiles heading to the hangars
>that must be our ground crew
>oh shit, am I gonna be flying strapped?
>i mean, fuck yeah, finally some ordinance
>maybe i'll even get to launch a missile into flying gobling city
>hmm
>but I need to know how to use the weapons system first
>hopefully manuel will be able to help me out again
>I'll read through it a bit during breakfast
>at the cafeteria…
>well…
>…it’s shit
>there’s no better way of putting it
>the floors are dirty
>the tables are crooked
>the seats are sticky
>the lights are either not functioning or so dim they may as well not exist
>food is equally terrible
>today’s breakfast was scrambled eggs with toast
>the eggs were gray and flavorless and the fucking toast was just cold white break with butter slathered onto it
>guess you get what you pay for
>and by that I mean it was free but still
>that doesn’t mean standards are optional
>as I’m eating, I’m reading the manual
>there’s a weapons system section
>but the cover of that section is plastered with warnings
>blah blah blah “use only as last result” blah blah blah “harming people is bad”
>I’m sorry but this is do or die
>well not now but in like two hours it will be do or die
>either way, I read through the basics
>how to use the weapons systems
>radars
>targeting systems
>all that jazz
>and I feel like I’m absorbing it well
>does this mean that I am now a weapons expert that can take on anything in the sky by pulling bullshit maneuvers out of nowhere?
>…
>…what? no!, obviously not, what were you thinking
>…
>anyway, as I get up from my seat the speakers in the corners of the room come alive
>with Dany’s voice…
>oh boy…
>“good morning ladies and gentlemen of base, friendly reminder that today penis inspection is in effect, report to your nearest medical center when possible, employees who do not pass the inspection will be terminated so be at top shape, that is all”
>a few tables erupt in laughter, some others seem pissed off
>I feel nothing, penis inspection jokes have lost their effect on me
>what a sad existence
>not being able to feel penis inspection jokes anymore
>as I’m walking to the exit I give a last look at the cafeteria and all it’s disgusting glory
>that’s when I notice something interesting
>or someone interesting
>that’s right
>it’s Iyame
>she’s sitting in a table along with other people wearing similar uniforms to her
>other officers, maybe of other departments since they have different patches on their jackets
>she has her own lunchbox and a book she’s reading
>maybe because she thinks she’s too good for the cafeteria food, that bitch!
>she looks at me, probably after feeling my starting drilling on the back of her head
>she throws me an angry from before returning to her book
>I turn my stare into a smug gaze
>she props her book up to her face
>she moves her eyes back to me
>not turning her neck, probably to dissimulate
>when she sees me still staring she gets visibly irritated
>eyes twitch, lips tremble, sweaty forehead
>i flip her the bird (heh, get it? bird)
>she starts shaking on her seat, still trying to hide behind her book
>one of the other officers calls her over
>her eyes widen as she tries to fix herself before putting the book down and facing the guy who addressed her
>I can’t hear what they are talking about but the dude looks unamused
>meanwhile her face gets beet red
>I don’t know what the fuck I just caused but she’s uncomfortable with it and that’s a win for me
>another point for team humans
>on the way back Hermann explains the plan to me
>we are gonna escorts two planes coming in to deliver some VIPs at base over a relatively low danger zone
>however, bandits have been seen in the area
>that’s why they aren’t letting those planes come alone
>that’s cool by me since I get some sweet cash for an easy job
>at the hangars I can see the handy work of the ground crew
>they have installed two drop tanks and four sidewinders on my plane
>fucking nice because sidewinders are heat seekers so if I need to use one I’ll get to scream "FOX TWO" into the mic
>and that's kinda neat
>oh and also that means that they don’t emit indications when targeting
>so I’ll also get to be a sneaky cunt
>that is, if I can figure out how to dogfight without getting shot down immediately
>or if we even see conflict at all
>which I’m still debating whether that be a good thing or a bad thing
>it could either be thrilling and the peak of my existence
>or I could get assploded out of the sky in bits
>and considering my skill level…
>yeah I’d rather have a peaceful flight
>…for now
>stepping into my hangar the ground crew is loading fuel into my jet
>they have moved all my stuff out of the way
>packing it neatly in a corner
>nice
>I grab my backpack from said corned and I pull out my harness and G suit
>I put the G suit on
>I put my harness over everything else
>get my gear attached to my harness, including my binocs and light
>I put my pistol on my thigh and waddle towards the plane
>fuck I forgot my cranial cap
>waddle back to my stuff and get it
>a member of the ground crew approaches me and hands me a little clipboard
>it’s the flight plan, payload layout, comms and a little map that is so small and undetailed it’s useless
>…aight?
>I climb the fuselage
>my helmet is on the seat
>it’s sparkling
>someone must have cleaned it
>well thanks stranger
>I grab my helmet and sit down
>I put the helmet on and connect it to the plane
>it was nice to have a free evening
>even if it dragged on for half the thread
>but right now we back in the saddle
>the batteries are almost at 30 volts
>nice
>start up my HUD, DDI’s and MPCD
>set left DDI to weapon selection and the right one to radar
>the MPCD has a GPS signal and it displays it correctly
>weird, I thought there were no satellites GPS satellites on this earth yet
>whatever…
>I start the APU and the ATS
>close canopy
>initiate the “Automatic Startup Assistant”
>warnings are working
>all flight surfaces are aligned and ready
>total internal fuel is around 14,000 pounds
>almost a full tank of gas
>very nice
>I start up the engines when I get a transmission through the radio
>it’s Hermann’s voice
>“ready so soon kid?”
>I quickly connect my mic and reply
>“yup, got a startup assistant”
>“really? Did you mod that on yourself”
>“eeeeeeh… no but I can tell you how it works”
>“later kid, right now we have a job to do”
>“right”
>I wait for a few minutes until I see the ground crew moving in front of my hangar
>the dude with the little lightsabers is waving them back and forth
>that’s when I see Hermann’s F-104 rolling in front of my hangar
>I need to remind you, it’s a fucking beautiful aircraft
>the lightsaber dude turns to me and starts waving his thing again
>signaling to move forward
>I roll out of the hangar
>the doors close behind me
>OH SHIT MY WINGS
>I forgot to unfold my wings
>I pull back the switch and move it 90°
>the wings unfold so I push the switch
>locking them in place
>also I forgot to activate the canopy jettison
>oops
>as we roll to the runway we get a transmission from tower
>“this is tower, I have your flight plan for today here, you’ll be escorte squadron”
>heh, escort
>“Hermann, you’ll be escorte 1”
>“understood tower”
>“f-18 kid, you are escorte 2, you’ll be taking orders from Hermann”
>“got it”
>f-18 kid? Really?
>it’s almost like we haven’t met face to face before
>…wait
>shit, we haven’t
>I notice Iyame sitting on top of a shuttle car watching roll by
>I raise my hand and wave at her
>naturally, she flips me the middle finger
>bye bitch, I’m flying and you’re not
>we get to the end on the runway and line up
>“escorte squadron, clear for takeoff, the weather is clear and the wind is blowing 220 knots east”
>“understood tower, taking off soon”
>I lift my helmet a little to wipe the sweat in my forehead
>“put your flaps in position kid”
>the flaps of the 104 slide down to takeoff position
>I do the same and look back to make sure they are correctly positioned
>“ready”
>“okay kid, we are gonna take off at 230 knots, follow my lead from there”
>“got it”
>“right, taking off…
>I put my hand in the throttle
>…NOW!”
>the 104’s burner lights up and begins to roll forward
>I push the throttle to the limit and roll too
>we start accelerating down the runway
>this is way smoother than patched grass
>the 104 starts taking a lead on me
>“230 knots”
>I look at my speedometer to see it slowly climb through the 210’s
>wait for less than a second
>“230 knots”
>“rotate”
>we lift off the ground
>I pitch up more and end up on top of Hermann
>but also staying a bit behind
>“gear up”
>the landing gear of the 104 retracts
>I pull mine up too
>“escorte squadron, climb and maintain 3000 feet at 260 knots”
>“understood tower, hey kid”
>“yeah?”
>“you did a pretty good job”
>“…thanks”
>“first time flying in formation?”
>“yeah”
>“ok, it’s easy, just don’t get to far from me…
>…and don’t crash into me either”
>we climb to angel’s 3
>I can see the sea from here
>it's a pretty relaxing sight
>we turn more inland for our mission
>I lock the barometric altitude, heading and speed of the plane
>the plane is practically flying itself right now
>relax time
>“hey kid, we are heading to a place we call the Roc’s drift”
>“ooh, sounds ominous”
>“it’s a portal that’s shaped like a horizontal slit, like if it was made for a roc to fly through”
>“…and was it made for a roc to fly through?”
>“we don’t know, there are no rocs in the area that we know of”
>ah, there are the key words
>“that we know of…”
>“hey, that’s what you got ordinance for”
>tru dat
>although I don’t know how I would have to dogfight a roc
>fuck, I don’t know how to dogfight most things in the air, I only know some basic tactics
>I only got here by bullshitting my way through
>…
>…oh shit…
>what would I do in an attack mission?
>shit
>I gotta find a way to train without revealing my idiocy
>“you okay there wingman?”
>shit, I was wandering off
>“uh?, yeah, why? What’s wrong?”
>“your breathing got heavy, your mic picked it off and transmitted it”
>“oh I was just… exercising my lungs”
>boom, saved
>“…right”
>we keep flying straight with minimum chatter until we reach our destination
>here we are…
>…the roc’s drift
>it’s a massive floating drift in the sky
>it’s composed of the same blue hues as other portals
>it has also the same weird spiral effect to its colors
>however, this one is massive and in the shape of a slit instead of the more normal circular shape of the rest of the portals
>I wonder, how it came to be this way?
>what sort of special criteria was completed for it to form this way?
>“here we are, our VIPs should be here any minute”
>as if on cue the colors of the portal lighten up and shine brightly
>the portal starts giving off these sort of electric bolts into the air
>the mass of the portal deforms as something comes out of it
>a plane flies out of the rift
>it’s some kind of C-130
>the portal doesn’t let up its tantrum
>another plane comes out
>another C-130
>our VIPs
>“there they are, come on, let’s form up on them”
>“roger”
>we make a wide turn and catch up to the planes
>“escort planes, this is captain Johansen, pilot of the front plane, we are currently cruising at a comfortable airspeed of 290 knots”
>“understood cap’n, matching speed”
>we match the speed of our VIPs and head back to base
>it’s literally just flying straight doing some minor corrections with the stick
>we get close to the city
>the planes need to make a turn to land so we give them space by breaking off
>they land successfully on the twin runways and proceed to exit towards the same ramp
>I realize that I have not watched my fuel for the entirety of this flight
>so I switch me left DDI to display my fuel load and…
>“uuuuh… Hermann, I think my fuel sensors are malfunctioning”
>“what’s making you thing that?”
>“well, we’ve been flying for almost an hour and twenty minutes but my fuel indicators that I have only burnt 700 pounds”
>Hermann chuckles
>“no kid, the maintenance crew put a mod on the plane, they reduced the amount of fuel injected into the engine by a lot, to make up for this they put on their “special” fuel, it’s more powerful and reactive, some your plane has a way bigger operational range but that also means that a shot landed straight into a fuel tanks could be more dangerous than usual”
>“…cool…?”
>“it’s Balthazar’s special recipe, I doubt they’ll let anyone know more than what I just told you”
>aight
>cool I guess
>“escorte squadron, you are clear to land”
>“understood tower, we are taking runway 3 right”
>runway 3 is the runway that’s diagonal to the twin ones
>“oh also, hey kid, congratulations on your first mission, your paycheck has been deposited into your account”
>for a man who only inconvenienced me at the start and has only talked to me to give me instructions since then
>I still felt something warm in my chest after those words left that man’s mouth
>oh and the money
>“t-thanks…”
>aaaaaand ruined it
>we taxi out into some empty ramps where we shut off our engines and open our canopies
>as the engines shut down I hear Hermann still talking to me through the radio
>“so, how was it kid?”
>“it was… relaxing actually”
>“yeah? That’s good to hear, so now we can just wait here and relax more”
>“what are we waiting for?”
>“that”
>I look over to see Hermann pointing to a pair of tug cart heading our way
>they line up with us and start backing up into us
>“disengage your parking brake kid, they are taking us to our hangars”
>I do and my plane with me inside starts getting towed
>“uh, can’t we just taxi to our hangars?”
>“we sure can, but command insists on doing this, saves jet fuel and thus, money”
>“ah, ok”
>still, I doubt that the amount of fuel saved is miniscule
>I’d still rather taxi to my hangar
>I fold the wings of my plane
>as I look back to see if they folded properly I notice the two C-130s we brought here unloading
>the first one’s hatch opens and around twenty harpies walk out
>great, as if we needed more around here
>they start unloading paletes with big boxes on top of them
>the second one opens but no one comes out
>instead three humans and a harpy exit the cockpit and move to the back
>no wait… two humans and an elf
>they move to the back and get help by some ground crew to unload something from the back
>one of the humans looks our way and waves at us
>I wave back
>the ground crew unload a sweet ride from the back of the car
>a nice and slim sports car
>they must be some sort of important business guys to be able to afford those kinds of things
>I hope they don’t think we are lazy shitters being towed instead of taxing properly to get around
>that would be embarrassing
>we get towed and placed on our hangars
>the ground crew leave in their shitty tugs without saying anything
>it’s back to stepping on the ground for us
>Hermann walks into my hangar with a big smile on his face
>“so how was it kid?”
>“interesting, but did I seriously made twentysomething grands for that?”
>Hermann chuckles a bit
>“there’s something I need to tell you kid, the twenty grand is barely enough to pay for the fuel, and the missiles? They are crazy expensive, there’s no way this wasn’t a monetary loss”
>“w-WHAT?! I- WHAT?!”
>“don’t worry kid, you’ll keep your money”
>“i- how?!”
>“because I paid for everything”
>I just stand there mouth agape, staring at Hermann
>“hey don’t worry, look at me, I’ve been flying around amassing money for years, the only reason I haven’t retired is because I love to be up there”
>I’m still just standing there wide eyed
>“besides… if I die without a will, Balthazar will simply take everything on my account so I don’t mind using my spare change to help a rookie out”
>wat
>“so, you just bought me fuel and missiles as a welcoming gift?”
>“oh, no, the missiles are only charged if you spend them, some guys will come and get them back later, the fuel is yours though, enjoy it”
>“…ok”
>Hermann struts out happily
>the baller old man…
>…what a flex
>wait
>without a will?
>he doesn’t have anyone better than the retard that just started working with him?
>I don’t want to assume shit but…
>nevermind
>I’m shouldn’t be nosy about that kind of stuff
>the front hangar door slides open a bit and out walk the mig bros
>they start walking to my hangar
>or, they start stumbling to my hangar
>crooning the happy birthday song
>their uniforms are covered in glitter and colorful strips of paper
>Rodrick has his hand behind his back
>Dany is waving both hands in the air
>they walk up to me, clearly drunk out of their tits
>oh god...
>“happy birfday little guy”
>“no retard is no birthday is… is… he finished his first flight here, that’s the celebration thing… for”
>“um… thanks guy, you didn’t need to”
>“no worries no worries, we brought a jift”
>Dany bumps Rodrick with his elbow
>Rodrick almost falls over before presenting a cupcake to me
>it looks like it fell on the floor
>“t-thanks”
>“aight, that’s it, we aer living niaow, have a good night”
>it’s noon
>they stumble away occasionally burping loudly
>I don’t think I should eat this…
>whatever
>I just sit around for a few minutes
>the ground boys come by and dismount the missiles of my plane
>I spend the rest of the day doing not much
>just walking around and eating lunch
>I checked my balance and Hermann is right
>I got 20k on me which is pretty neat but I don’t think I should spend on anything big at the moment…
>…fuck it
>I leave to have dinner with myself at the fanciest place I can find
>it was a steakhouse with a large liquor selection
>so I ordered a filet mignon with some weird exotic spices sauce and a bottle of gray goose
>total was like 200$
>it was a weird experience seeing people well dressed and fancied out eating expensive food while I was wearing my sweaty flights suit, ungroomed hair and cheap Alice pack
>I managed to catch some people staring at me weirdly
>shit was cash
>I took my half-finished bottle of vodka back to my place where I put it on the corner next to the rest of my stuff
>the rest of the place was dead quiet while I rode in jester’s little shuttle
>he was as monotone as always
>barely talked
>didn’t matter
>this was the beginning of my new life as mercenary pilot for a corporation with the economic force of a small country
>…and I still know relatively nothing about being a fighter pilot
>…fuck
>I'm gonna come clean and ask the guys for help
>if I'm honest maybe they'll help out
>...I hope...
>...
>I'll do it tomorrow...
>I hanged my hammock on the hardpoints of my plane and slept easy for the night
>the next morning I gathered the guys and explained my situation
>how I found this plane
>how I needed to read a manual for days before even sitting on the cockpit
>my rocky first flight
>how I got dragged into this job
>…and how I wouldn’t be able to dogfight for shit
>they all seem very understanding, surprisingly
>they gave me some encouraging words and asked me if I needed help
>I didn’t know what to say
>but then Hermann got an idea
>“we’ll train you”
>“w-what?”
>“we will?”
>“of course we will, we don’t have much better to do other than filling quotas and going out for dinner, our skill could get some refreshing so how about we plan a hop schedule?”
>Dany and Rodrick just stare at each other
>and I stare at the guys
>I still don’t know what to say
>will they really do that for me?
>“right, I’m in, whatever”
>“are you serious Dany?”
>“oh c’mon man! All we do here is get drunk and patrol missions, we haven’t engaged something else in the air for almost a year, this could be great practice”
>“ah fuck it, ok we’ll help out… as long as we get some aid with the fuel expenses”
>Rodrick rolls his eyes towards Hermann
>“don’t get stingy with the fuel, I know you bumbling retards horde money as well”
>“…fine”
>“I’ll help anon until he’s earning enough to pay for his own stuff”
>“are you guys seriously gonna help me like that?”
>“hey, you are no use if you can't fly properly”
>ouch
>“I’ll fill you in the details later, I have cargo to escort today”
>“and we have patrol duties, we’ll be departing in a few hours”
>they walk away to their hangars and I’m left to myself again
>the fact that they are willing to go so far for me, a guy they just met
>it makes me feel bad with myself
>I’ll make it up to them
>I have to make it up to then
>so, what happened after that you ask?
ONE MONTH
>“come on… bring it left a little…”
>“that’s it, that’s it!”
>the pitch if the growl made by my sidewinder suddenly spikes as it locks on the mig-29
>“LOCK!”
>Hermann’s voice responds through the radio
>“it’s valid! Big Kat is out”
>the mig breaks off and slows down
>I laugh in triumph as the mig boys connect on the radio
>“you got lucky on this one, punk”
>“we went easy on you that time”
>“yeah yeah whatever you say. Hey Hermann, what’s the score today?”
>“3-4 in favor of Big Kat, you are getting better Anon”
>“yeah but you’re still behind”
>“and by one point!”
>“don’t get cocky you two. at this rate it won’t be long before Anon surpasses you”
>“yeah?, we aren’t letting that happen so easily”
>I roll my eyes as we form behind Hermann’s F-104
>“is it normal for you guys to become such cunts when in the air?”
>“sorry, it’s the freedom of the open sky that tempts us”
>“break it up you three. Come on, let’s head back to base before the suits get angry”
>we flight formation to the airfield
>boy, it’s been quite the month
>many things have changed, I’ve actually gotten the hang of the logistics of the airfield
>I’ve managed to save up quite the little fortune
>my endurance has increased
>so has my flying skills
>sure, I’m no professional yet but I feel at least a bit capable now
>training with the guys is quite a lot of fun and after a contract I get a lot of time for myself
>I’m living very comfortably
>well…
>not so much after a long patrol
>my spine tends to twist into a knot after a few hours of sitting on the cockpit
>but hey, I like it
>the lifestyle, not the pain
>“man, this training missiles suck. It was so easy to cheat before we got them”
>yeah, at first we flew with no ordinance and just pretended to get locks on each other whenever we felt like a real missile might lock
>but after a few weeks we were able to afford some custom made training sensors
>I say sensors because they are just that, sensors in a fancy missile-shaped shell
>we got 3
>one for each fox
>and an umpire sensor, its job is to receive the data from the fake missiles to arbitrate a fight
>this last sensor was mounted on Hermann’s plane as he was the one overwatching us
>we landed on the airfield without much trouble and went back to our hangars
>I made some changes to it since I left
>I bought some furniture and clothes
>I have a bed, a real one and a closet with casual wear
>I also bought a safe to keep all my precious shit safe
>the tug pushes my plane into the hanger
>the ground crew unmounts my fake missile and moves it to Hermann’s hanger since he technically owns them
>Dany and Rodrick approach me with shit-eating grins
>“he-hey man, aaahaa, eeeeeeh”
>“uh… what Dany means is… we are sorry”
>“ah, yes! That!”
>“sorry for what?”
>“well… because of what you said of us being cunts in the air”
>“oh! Don’t worry about that, no offense taken”
>“and no offense given? No I got it, no offense meant… right?”
>“riiiiight…”
>Dany looks to the runway and suddenly taps my shoulder
>“heads up, high cuntress incoming, 9 o’clock”
>I look over to see Iyame approaching on her shitty mail shuttle
>“augh… what does she want now?”
>the boys just look at each other and raise their shoulders
>“probably here just to piss us off”
>she parks beside us and jumps out of her little car
>she bee-lines for me with a pissed of mug and a letter on her hand
>“here, for you asshole”
>“ah, the ever so loyal fancy mail woman”
>she suddenly starts to undress in front of us
>wait wat?
>she takes her black uniform off, leaving her in a skimpy tank top and shorts
>the boys start snickering and teasing her
>“oi oi oi, what’s all this about?”
>“didn’t know you were that desperate…”
>her face reddens
>“shut the fuck off assholes!”
>she shoves her uniform on my chest
>“I finally earned my month of vacation, so I came over to deliver my last order and wish you shitters to crash before I come back”
>with that she jumps into the air and flies off
>bye bitch
>“where do you think she’s going?”
>“the coastline, she lives in harpy city”
>coastline…
>what does that remind me off?
>“how do you know that anon?”
>“we have history before I came to the base”
>“really? I thought she was just a mad bitch that decided to release her pent up ovaries on us…”
>what?
>“wait, hadn’t I already told you this?”
>“if you did, then we were pissed drunk because I can’t remember anything about”
>“me neither…”
>“hmmm”
>I look down to her uniform and letter in my hands
>oh shit the letter
>I throw her uniform aside (I’ll throw it on the garbage later), and opened the wax seal of the letter
>it reads “Mister Anon Anonson, we are happy to inform you that this first month of your service has been well more than satisfactory. We have decided to reward your excellent behavior by giving you a raise of 7% to the payment of all assigned contracts (note: applies only to assigned contracts, jobs taken by the pilot do not apply)”
>it’s simply signed “-department of finances”
>neat
>“oh cool, anon got his first raise, we only got 4% on our first month”
>“wait, so everyone gets a raise on their first month?”
>“yeah, the amount depends on your performance”
>“so am I just gonna keep getting monthly raises?”
>“there’s a limit, but not many pilots stay long enough to reach it, hell, I’m sure Hermann and us are the only ones that have stuck around long enough to get to it ever”
>Dany jabs Rodrick on his side
>“hey, we have evening patrol in a few hours”
>“oh shit, we gotta go get lunch, and prep, see ya anon!”
>“see ya guys”
>“we should go to the bar again soon”
>“right”
>ok, what was I thinking about?
>oh yeah the coastline
>what does that remind me of?...
>…
>oh shit
>THE HOUSE AND THE HANGAR!
>not this one, the one I found the hornet the first time
>shit, it didn’t even cross my mind to go check on the place for all this month
>I gotta go, I have nothing to do for the rest of the evening
>just hope it’s not filled with dust, rats or goblins
>I’m gonna go check the place out
>I quickly put my gear on and grab my backpack to take some stuff
>spare clothes, some cereal bars and my hi-power
>I jump into my plane, engage the batteries and connect the radio
>“hey tower boss, I’m going to head outside base, there’s a place I gotta check on”
>“…the last ground crew report says that you loaded Balthazar fuel into your aircraft”
>“aha”
>“…sorry sauce boss, I can’t have you out there loaded with Balthazar fuel without an approved flight plan, you are gonna have to put some normal fuel in your plane if you wanna leave”
>…god fucking…
>“fine, send the ground crew here”
>“roger”
>I turn the power off and jump out
>what fucking bullshit is that?
>even if my tank is drained and filled with normal fuel there would still be some sort of remnant that someone ambitious could reverse engineer
>why not patent their magic fuel bullshit and sell it?
>some minutes pass and the ground crew show up with a tanker truck
>the come in, I tell them what’s up and they get working
>I approach one of the leader looking motherfuckers and ask
>“hey, is there some way I could contact you guys without having to dial up tower?”
>“yeah, we have our on radio frequency channel, we even sell personal radios for easy contacting”
>“ooh… I didn’t know that”
>“no one told you before?”
>“no…”
>“oh well, our bad, we tell every new pilot that comes in, guess we forgot to tell you”
>because fuck me, right?
>another man approaches me
>“excuse me sir, how long have you been flying since your plane’s last service”
>what is my plane a fucking car now?
>“a bit over one month I guess”
>“one month! You kidding? That’s horrible, sorry sir but we can’t let you anywhere without an inspection first”
>oh god da-
>“does the inspection cost?”
>“eeeh… between 15 to 50 grand”
>OH FUCK OFF
>“fine, just fucking get it over with”
>the technician just fucking smiles because he gets to pinch me money
>“sure thing sir”
>he whistles and makes some weird hand signs
>the rest of the crew turn their heads to the guy and start moving faster
>some guys drop what they are doing and start making calls on their radios
>the fuel tanker just drains the fuel and leaves
>some ground crew leave in their shuttles as a different shuttle arrives with guys using a different color uniform
>the new guys start opening panels and moving shit
>I see one of them connect a weird looking tablet to one of the panels
>two guys climb the fuselage
>one sits in the cockpit while the other checks the computers behind the seat
>some guys just straight up jump into the air intakes
>they start communicating with themselves on their weird local language
>god damn I need to go out of base more and socialize
>maybe even learn a bit of the language…
>I have noticed this before but I forgot to mention it before
>all the ground crew and most of the other beings in the base are humans and a few elves here and there
>it’s weird but hey
>it is equipment meant to be handled by humans so it makes sense that it is being handled by humans and almost humans
>it makes sense to me at least
>one of the men working pulls out a small bag from his pocket
>he opens the bag and pulls out a fucking blue wizard hat and a staff almost as big as him
>he puts the hat on and walks to the back of the plane and makes an announcement I can’t comprehend
>the guys that were inside the intakes jump out and run beside him
>the wizard guy starts chanting as my plane begins to shake
>wtf?
>the fucking panels of my plane that cover the engines come loose and float up
>the engines begin to shake as they are carefully lifted from the rest of the plane
>wtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtf?!
>the minutes pass quickly
>Dany and Rodrick return from lunch, prepare and then they leave to their patrol duties
>I fall asleep for a bit before being woken up by the lead technician
>“sir, are you sure your plane hasn’t been maintained for a month?”
>“yeah, why?”
>“WHY?! Do you have any idea how bad is it that for any aircraft to fly for a month without even a simple inspection?! It would be a miracle if it didn’t just collapse into pieces midair!”
>“fuck, what happened now?”
>“that’s the thing, it’s completely fine, the engines are on good condition, the frame is intact, the computer systems are top notch, the only thing we had to do is clean the fuselage and polish the canopy”
>“I mean, that’s good, isn’t it?”
>“do you have any modifications or enchantments on it?”
>“not that I know of… no wait”
>I walk over to my safe, cover the electronic keypad with my hand as I input the code with my other hand
>my bag of coins fall into the ground as I open the door
>oh woops
>I place it back properly and pull out the almighty manual
>“there’s a list of modifications around here, I’m not the first owner you see?”
>the technician just stares in awe as I flip through the giant manual
>“ah, here it is”
>he snatches it from me and starts reading like a madman
>“dude, this is… dude…”
>he hands it to me
>“do you know how valuable that information could be?”
>“uuuuuuh…”
>“you should show it to some of the suits, if we get a fleet of f-18s we could turn them into the most powerful force in this sky!”
>“…ok”
>the ground crew finishes their business and leave
>I asked for one of the radios to contact them easier
>they charged me for it because of course they did
>the sun is already setting so I won’t go back today
>I have to wait until tomorrow because my shitty runway doesn’t have lights and I want to live
>great
>I’m gonna go to the bar to waste the rest of the day
>I went to the bar to waste the rest of the day
>nothing interesting happened
>except for the fact that I finished the last bottles of stella artois in the bar
>some cunt in a black jacket wasn’t happy with that so he starting cussing me out in his weird language
>so I told him to shove my empty bottles up his ass if he really loved them that much
>I think he said something about my mother but I just wasn’t in the mood for caring
>so I stumbled back to my hangar
>tried to hang my hammock on the hardpoints of the wing until I realized I had a bed
>so that was pretty interesting…
>…I guess?
>I wake in the late morning the next day
>my hair is made into a knotted shit
>my eyes are red
>my existence hurts
>but other than that, pretty alright
>got ready, called for fuel, had to do the entire preflight by myself for the first time in weeks
>got the seat of the jet, forgot my helmet, fuck, went back for my helmet
>and now finally I can leave on my own
>switch batteries to on, APU, ATS, DDIs, yada yada yada, let’s get the fuck out of here
>“hey tower, I’m heading out today, can I taxi to the runways?”
>“no flight plan?”
>“nope”
>“what fuel you carrying?”
>“run of the mill aviation kerosene”
>fuck me that kinda rhymed
>…hmm, okay, taxi to runway 3”
>“thank you tower… eh, I never got your nam-”
>“josh, it’s josh”
>“aight, thank you josh”
>“please don’t say it that way”
>chuckle as I taxi and take off
>I fly high as I tap in the TACAN code for my hangar
>that’s one thing I learned while I was away
>air density, that’s why I was so fuel inefficient during my first flights
>I always flew relatively low and hard
>climb and maintain 30,000 feet
>the earth beneath me
>(or what I can see of it)
>looks like it’s covered by a thin mist
>there are sparse clouds on the sky but they are way below me so that doesn’t matter
>I can see the horizon perfectly from here
>even a slight curvature
>yeah fuck you Mr. Klebs, you flat-earther retard
>how did you even get a job as a geography teacher?
>doesn’t matter
>the sky feels peaceful and that’s what matters to me
>not a single gauge moving in the cockpit
>I stretch my arms and torso around
>cracking my joints in the process
>fuck that felt good
>I’m getting close to my destination
>I pull back the throttle and pitch down
>immediately start to accelerate towards the ground rapidly
>the plane starts to sway a little
>then shaking
>then shaking more aggressively
>ok
>maybe too much
>I pitch back up a little
>the plane rattles a bit before stabilizing
>crossing the clouds and due to my pitch angle I can see the earth better
>I can see the shore, the cliffs, the gravel beach and the harpy island in the distance
>hmmm…
>Iyame said she was gonna go back for her vacation right?
>well… it’s only been one day but I don’t want her to forget about me
>let’s pay her a visit
>I grab the stick and swing slowly towards the island
>it’s time for the hollow bone rattle 2: electric boogaloo
>let’s pick a target
>hmmm
>the city is composed of building made out of some sort of rocky material
>whether they were carved or build out of bricks I can’t tell at this distance
>there are plenty of canals all around the place, kinda like Venice but with filled with flying goblins
>there’s a bigger canal which I assume is like the main canal
>I could try to do a run through it but nah
>not today, maybe another time when there are more people on the streets
>speaking of which
>there seems to be a fair bit of people along the shore
>that’s it
>that’s the point of attack!
>I dive and get in close to the beach at an almost 90° bank
>I could see the tip of my left wing mere feet above the surface of the water
>the force of the air being split by my jet drew a ripple on the water
>the expanding exhaust gasses of both my engines kicked up sand into the beach goers
>those still in front of my way either tried to flee or waved their arms up in cheer
>I managed to keep this for a long trace of the beach
>when I felt I had gotten the message across I pulled out and gained altitude
>doing three celebratory rolls as I pitched up and jetted away… quite literally
>“that’s right, the human riding a hot chunk of metal is the king of these skies, not some humanoid birds with a shitty attitude”
>I said to myself as I looked back while stabilizing my position
>but I noticed something
>one of the canals in the city was way bigger than the rest
>and it stretched across one side of the city to the other
>it most be the main canal
>perhaps I could try to power down through it
>hmmm…
>maybe another time
>another time these ‘creatures’ need a refresher
>but I want to go see what happened to old hangar
>I got back to it and landed carefully in the shitty makeshift runway
>man, how much I NOT missed this strip
>I hurt my ass on that landing
>as I slow down nearing the hangar, I pull out my keychain and open the hangar door
>the old clunk and the whirr of the electric engines making my brain go wild with memories and thoughts
>how could I have forgotten about this place?
>maybe I got to into the job?
>mercenary pilot…
>sounds cool but it was mostly just patrolling the same areas all day or following some slow cargo planes
>kinda boring but I can’t deny it was good money for a relatively safe job
>I don’t remember having any trouble whilst flying
>maybe I got lucky
>enough ranting, let’s see how this place held up for a month without me
>the door slow to a stop with a loud KA-CLUNK
>the hangar is a pitch black abyss inside
>uh...
>slowly I take the plane inside and shut the engines off
>I climb out with my backpack and immediately take the G-suit off
>it’s annoying to waddle around in it
>I close the doors with the remote and walk to the light switches before they close
>once closed, the lights shut off automatically
>so I just turn them back on
>I want to see the repositioning system (is that what it was called?) working this time
>after a few seconds of nothing the weird disco ball looking thing in the ceiling starts to glow a soft purple
>the aura of light around the repositioning device takes the shape of several purple ropes of light that begin to descend slowly towards my plane
>suddenly they come to life like tentacles, and wrap around various parts of the plane
>it’s gently hoisted up, spun around and carefully put back down
>the tendrils draw back into the device in the ceiling except for one
>the last tendril pulls down the boarding ladder and then gives the canopy a couple of gentle pats
>like a child to the head a kitten
>…ok?
>guess it most have missed us then
>I check everything around before exiting the hangar
>the doors open up a little before I stop and then close them with the remote
>I need to install some sort of smaller door in here
>the mechanical noises are oddly pleasing but I fear I’ll break something by doing this too much
>the hangar and house seem to be fine on the outside
>I kinda was expecting to find it covered in graffiti and harpy squirts
>it’s a relief that it’s not
>Jeremy’s grave is fine
>the dirt has set more and the cross I made is a bit crooked but nothing I can’t fix
>I walk inside the house to find it just as I left it
>not even dust settled over the furniture
>nice
>I open the tool cabinet and find the two buckets in it
>this brings me an idea
>I should go crawfishing again to the…
>…to the river
>…the river…
>“THE RIVER!”
>I shout into the air as I change my clothes as fast as I can
>did I pack my gorka?
>yeah here it is
>once done with the gorka I pack everything I need to go to the lake
>knife, charged pda, pistol, rubber boots and buckets
>how did all of this fit in my backpack
>it’s a secret :)
>the only thing I need now is one of those ironic fishing shitpost meme t-shirts
>I lock everything behind me and head straight to the river
>after 15 minutes of walk I see the forest clear up a bit
>the ground hardens as I reach the line of rock that separate the land and water
>the cool breeze of the forest grows stronger near the river
>the humidity in the air makes my nasal passage and throat cool when I breath
>ah yess
>this is kinds of things are the reason I decided to live innawoods in this side of the world
>well that and the fact that I didn’t want to just sit around doing nothing
>I grab my pda and mark the river on the map
>not making that mistake again…
>oh! that reminds me, the huntress I met in a road near here!
>what was her name? Albia? yeah something like that
>she said something about villages nearby
>not sure if I feel like searching for them today though…
>OH!
>I could try to use the old bike in the hangar!
>man, so much I missed when I went away
>I should return here more
>at least once per month
>I put my pda besides the rest of my stuff on a high rock on the water’s edge
>I sit beside it as I take more of the scenery
>once ready to get some skrimp I get the brilliant idea to put some tunes in the air
>I look for the perfect song through my library
>here it is!
>[YouTube] Great Days UNITS ver. (embed)
>ah yes
>I hop into the shallow of the river with a bucket in my hands and begin turning rock over
>the crawfish are fast but my hand is faster
>they are no match for my superior speed and rock moving abilities
>I am the lord of death of all crawfish kin
>BEHOLD MY ABSOLUTE POWER
>FOR I HAVE CAPTURED...
>uh...
>6! 6 CRAWFISH IN THE SPAN OF 7 MINUTES!
>as I walk towards the shore, I feel something staring at me
>I turn around to see if there’s truly something out there looking at me
>scanning the waters, the tree lines and the skies
>nothing seems to be around
>nothing except the crawfish I’ve caught and the ones still laying under rocks
>really?
>nothing?
>I drop the crawfish into the bucket with some of the river water
>I sit on the rocks on the shore and stare for some time into the water
>like if I’m waiting for something to happen
>…
>…
>…she really is gone, isn’t she?
>well, I hope she’s doing well wherever she is
>I thought to myself as I stood up and stretched my arms
>I took another look around
>this time, the sounds of mild splooshes catches my attention
>I turn my head to where the noise comes from
>there’s something floating above the water
>not like on the surface, I mean flying above it
>it’s some sort of animal
>it’s long and snake like but with a wavy membrane, like the flaps of a cuttlefish
>it has very light cyan skin and moves erratically, like a dragonfly above the water
>oh, it’s a sky fish!
>or flying rod, however you call them
>I’ve never seen one with my own eyes
>people say they are extremely rare
>the sky fish suddenly turns to me
>I raise my hand and wave a little
>“h-hello…”
>it darks at me at an incredible speed
>startling me and making me reach for my gun
>it stops directly in front of my face and stares
>stares into my soul with its pitch-black beady eyes
>waving its body slowly
>“um… hi?”
>it quickly darts around me and floats over my bucket of crawfish
>it’s not gonna do what I think it’s gonna do, is it?
>it takes a quick peck at my bucket
>pulling out a crawfish and then crunching it in its mouth
>oh motherfucker
>“HEY!”
>I yelled as I got up and ran to catch the thieving rod
>“THAT’S MINE!”
>it darts out of my way and flies over the river
>where it starts to peck around more
>greedy bastard
>I walk to the edge of the rocks to observe the rod more
>I should take a picture of it
>then I can flex how I got close to such a rare creature
>when I bend down to grab my phone from my bag, I hear a lot of water wooshing
>I quickly look to where the rod was to see it with its head submerged in the water
>and something trashing below it
>it caught something
>I stand up again to see what it caught
>as its head surfaces I spot the unmistakable figure of the body fish with the upper body of a woman
>oh shit, it caught a river mermaid!
>“OI!”
>I shouted as I grabbed my pistol and jumped in the river
>the rod starts thrashing its head around
>the wails of the little mermaid making me furious
>that’s it!
>I rose my pistol and aimed at the rod as fast as I could
>once the body of the rod was in my sights, I pulled the trigger without much thought
>the round cracked off, sending the slide flying back
>my carelessness was punished when the slide bit and slashed at the side of my misplaced thumb
>the suddenness of the pain making my hand jolt upwards
>sending my pistol into the air
>fortunately, I was quick enough to catch it with my uninjured hand
>at the other side of the gun, the bullet made its target and hit the rod on its side
>taking a good chunk out
>making it drop the mermaid and causing it to fall flailing into the water like a snake having a seizure
>I pocketed my pistol and parted my way to the edge of the shallows
>the injured mermaid was floating near the surface of the water
>so was the corpse of the rod
>I grabbed the mermaid to see if she was okay
>the bite was on the back of her fish abdomen
>and no, this isn’t my mermaid
>she is bigger and has a body more similar to a salmon
>and unlike mine, she has gills
>meaning I can’t have her out of the water and in between my hands for long
>but she is okay
>the rod’s blunt teeth were not enough to cause significant damage
>she is looking at me with puppy dog eyes though
>tiny tears streaming of her face
>she probably thinks I’m gonna finish her off
>instead I pat her head with my index finger and release her
>she immediately swims away, looking back and then hiding behind some rocks
>she’ll be fine, just a bruise at worse
>I turn my attention to the corpse of the rod
>which was slowly floating down river
>but enough for me to not catch it
>I grab it from the tip of its tail and raise it up
>much like a freshly caught fish
>it’s still quivering
>the moment I turn back to the shore the rod comes back to life
>it twists its body around and bites my elbow
>I let out a scream of both pain and surprise
>accidentally dropping it back to the water
>I catch it again but this time by the back of its head
>with my free hand I pull my pistol from my pocket and stick the muzzle against its head
>I pull the trigger and blow its head off
>the body suddenly stiffening and then going limp
>fucking asshole animal
>I sit back down in the rocks and sigh
>man that hurt
>fuck
>I inspect the slide bite and the rod bite since they were in the same arm
>fuck me, it stings like a bitch
>I let my hanging feet to dip into the water a bit
>then I turn to see the corpse of the sky rod besides me
>…
>…I’ve also heard that they are a delicacy in some places…
>hmmm
>well, there’s no point in letting a perfectly good carcass go to waste
>I pick the carcass of the rod and stand up to stretch a bit
>then I hear the sound of water moving again
>I look back to the river to see that same mermaid staring at me from the water
>“uh… hi there”
>she flinches back when I lift my hand to wave at her
>hmmm
>oh I have and idea
>I put the carcass on the rocks again and grab the bucket of crawfish
>I sit over the same rock and pull out the tail of one of the crawfish
>she seems to take interest on what I’m doing
>I lay on my stomach and hang my hand down to the water
>presenting the tail of the crawfish to her
>she carefully swims towards my hand
>snatches the piece of meat and bolts away again
>she resurfaces with a smile on her face
>unlike my mermaid who took little bites out of her meal, this much bigger one is just biting chunks off with enthusiasm
>suddenly, the surface of the water gets disturbed as a group of shadows swim towards the mermaid
>more miniature feminine upper bodies join the mermaid
>all of different sizes and colors
>some with a more tanned skin, contrasting the pale of the first mermaid
>some with shorter hair of different colors
>they all look cute but none of them are my mermaid
>they join their friend in silent admiration
>interested in me and the piece of food I gave their friend
>keeping their distance as well as their guard up
>I dismember all of the crawfish I had in the bucket and start throwing every little bit of meat I could pull into the water
>they quickly swim around to get the free food
>I shove the sky fish carcass in the remaining cold water of the bucket and pack my things
>I wave goodbye to the group of mermaids before walking off into the forest
>the one I saved waves back
>the other still keeping to themselves
>what cuties
>I should come feed them more often
>once back in the hangar, I start a fire and pull out the cooking kit
>pan, butter, salt, pepper and chili powder
>the first thing I do is chop the ruined stump of what once was a head
>after that, I run the knife down its spine and pull its skin off
>and immediately I’m distracted by it
>although the animal itself was of a light cyan coloration, its skin is transparent on the outer side
>like a pane of glass made by a drunk fetus but still a pane of glass
>the inside of it looks like the inside of the skin of a snake
>just fleshy pink with bits of flesh that stuck to it
>it’s like a biological one way mirror
>fascinating!
>I’ll let it dry and I will keep it
>after eating, I put my cooking kit away in the house
>then I walk into the hangar and head for the box room
>where I found the m712 and the underground water treatment thing
>I move some small boxes off the tarp and then pull it off
>lifting a ton of dust into the air
>I enter a coughing fit and run out of the box until the dust clears
>I look back to see the most boomer sportster bike I have ever seen
>it has a white fuel tank with a black hornet painted at each side
>the upholstery is black leather with white stitching and the pipes are a shiny silver color
>oh yeah
>we riding
>hmm, it doesn’t seem to have any markings
>I don’t know what model or manufacturer this bike is from
>eh, it doesn’t matter
>I push the bike out of the box room
>the tarp most have taken all the abuse of time
>because the bike is spotless
>I’m sure one of the fuel tanks on the other side of the hangar is kerosene but what is the other one
>if it’s not gasoline then I’m kind of screwed
>I walk to the other one
>the one I haven’t inspected before
>there are some labels here
>oh, it does say it’s gasoline
>damn that old man sure had everything in mind
>I give the tank a knock
>it doesn’t sound very full bit there’s definitely something there
>…
>for how long could gasoline stay idle before going bad again?
>I think it’s two to four months when properly stored
>and I’ve gone for what? one month?
>oof, hope the old man got fresh gas before kicking the bucket
>I push the bike over and look for a way of translating the gas from the storage tank to the fuel tank
>it has some sort of pump handle at one side
>the other side
>ugh
>push the bike over to the other side of the tank and fill her up
>ok, now we are ready
>hmm…
>I should wear a helmet for this
>I run over to where I left my flight suit
>grab my flight helmet and disconnect the oxygen line and the radio cables from it
>nice, I’ll totally won’t regret if I crash and destroy my only flight helmet
>I forgot to mention that the wheels of the bike are those weird thick dirt tires
>because I’m retarded
>I cross my leg and sit on the bike
>it’s pretty comfortable, not to high nor too low
>I used to ride a moped when I was in high school and the controls seem similar enough
>the foot controls are in the mid position
>choppers usually have them on the front and most sport bikes have them on the back
>if you still don’t understand, there’s this little thing called google
>now, let’s hear this kitty roar
>…
>…I forgot the fucking key…
>augh
>I get up and quickly search for it among the smaller boxes that were piled on top of the bike
>ah, here it is
>but before I leave, I should also get something to defend myself
>so I grab my hi-power and two spare mags
>I put the holster on and the magazines on my front pockets
>back to the bike, I turn the ignition on
>I toggle the kill switch and put my leg on the kickstart
>I push it down until I feel resistance then hold the clutch open
>once I feel the kickstart paddle push back, I give it a stern kick while holding the throttle open a little
>the engine comes alive with a deep purr
>I immediately close the throttle, but the engine keeps idle
>first try, nice
>I push the kickstand with my feet and shift gear to first
>away we go
>I click the remote to the hangar doors and they start to close as I’m rolling
>I clear them seconds before they close completely
>with a satisfactory clunk the door shut behind me
>nice, now to find that old road again
>…I did bring my pda with me this time right?...
>I feel around my pockets
>yeah, I have it in my back pocket
>I open the throttle and speed down the runway a little
>once near the end of the runway I slow down because I don’t want to crash into a tree
>so I ride more carefully, weaving between them
>damn this is gonna get annoying real soon
>maybe I should carve my own road to the other road when I find it
>…somehow
>I gotta commend the old man
>this bike rides surprisingly smooth along the forest floor
>he clearly had it tuned to this place
>after a few minutes of chugging along in a straight line I begin to see the trees clear
>the packed ground gives me the clear indication
>yep, this is that dirt road
>I stop the bike and put it in neutral
>I take out my pda and mark the road in my map
>now… where did that girl Albia said which direction was her town to?
>I think it’s to my left
>so I proceed to my left
>the ride gets smoother on the road
>I mean… yeah that’s what roads are for
>as I turn a pretty wide corner, I see a couple of buildings in the very distance
>that most be the village where that girl lives
>the road straightens so I pick up more speed
>then I realize, I can see Albia’s wagon ahead of me
>trotting its way into the village
>oh shit, how did I not see it before?
>I speed up a bit more to catch up to it
>once close I let off the gas to match to the side of the wagon
>I see Albia sitting on the front bench, holding the leads of her horses
>the engine noise catches her attention and she looks at me
>I wave at her and she replies with a feeble and insecure wave
>I lift off the helmet’s visor
>“hey there, remember me?”
>I shout with a playful tone
>her ears prick up, face livens up and tail starts to wag
>she moves her mouth
>but I can’t understand what she says because of the engine noise and the helmet noise insulation
>“WHAT?!”
>she lifts her palm up, signaling me to stop
>she pulls on the leads of her horses, making them stop
>I overshot a little before breaking completely
>I make a u-turn and then park besides her wagon
>“hey there Anon, long time no see”
>I lay my chin on my crossed arms over the handlebars
>“hey there, miss Albia, long time no see indeed”
>“oh, it’s Ablia…”
>“ohp, sorry”
>way to fuck it up retard
>I can tell that she eyes me up a little, even staring at my holster for a fraction of a second
>“in the adventurous mood are ye? well, do you mind helping me with something then?”
>“sure, with what do you need help with?”
>“you see… I was making my way back to resupply in ammo and free up some space…”
>“mhmm”
>“…because I was payed to hunt down a group of wild kobolds…”
>“aha”
>“…so I managed to track them down to the lair…”
>“ye~s”
>“could you stop doing that?”
>“oh sorry”
>“well… it turns out that their lair is a narrow cavern, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to cover my back?”
>“mh… sure, wild kobolds are just big lizards, aren’t they?”
>“eh… kind of”
>“no problem, I’ve hunted similar things before”
>“really?”
>“yeah, when I lived in the other world, my original world, I used to hunt geckos, these giant lizards that walked on their hind legs and some could even breath fire”
>“wow, where did you live back there?”
>“in this place called New Vegas, it was in the middle of a scorching hot desert”
>“wow…”
>“yeah, so hot it would make you wish for a nuclear winter”
>“ok?, why don’t you follow me home to get ready for the hunt, Mr. gecko-slayer”
>“sure”
>she tugs on the lead of her horses and they start trotting again
>I start my bike and ride along her wagon
>...
>did I just really managed to bullshit my first hours playing Fallout: New Vegas as reality?
>we ride into her village
>most of the houses are simple log cabins, they don’t even have proper glass windows
>just square holes in the walls with shutters
>the people in the street are going about their normal day to day routine
>there’s plenty of carts filled with all sort of goodies lined up on the streets
>people buying and bartering all around
>my weird metal steed seems to attract attention
>the adults just give me a simple look of curiosity before returning to their own business
>the minors stare in awe, some even following me from a distance for a bit
>a bit weird, everyone is wearing modern casual clothing
>things like t-shirts, jeans and shoes
>yet some of them act like they have never seen a bike before
>we stop at a simple one room cabin
>“this is the place”
>besides Ablia’s cabin, separated by a picketed fence, there's a bigger house with 2 floors
>I mean a proper house
>not a bunch of logs in the shape of a cube
>it seems out of place here
>“hey who lives here?”
>“oh that, that’s the man I would have called for backup”
>“…for back up… and why didn’t you call him?”
>before she can answer, the front door of the house is opened by a female elf in casual clothing
>Ablia turns around to the sound of the door
>she turns back to me and then cocks her head towards the house
>“see for yourself”
>the elf goes back inside for a second
>she then pushes the wheelchair of a man that looks to be in his 50’s
>he has big casts on both of his legs
>“oh”
>“yeah…”
>the man immediately turns his attention towards us
>he waves at Ablia and she waves back
>he speaks to the elf who then pushes him towards us through a cement path that leads to the edge of his property
>“hey there Ablia, sweet girl, back from your hunt so soon?”
>“not really, I uh… this is Anon, he’s a good friend of mine and… Anon, this is Mr. Henst”
>“hmm, hello Anon boy, you are not from here are ya?”
>I take of my helmet and hang it on the handlebars
>“uh… well no I’m not from this village but I live close-ish”
>“huh… well girl what’s got you back so soon either way?”
>“well, I was coming back to restock on ammo and free some space in my wagon to take on a nest of wild kobolds that have been harassing livestock, I didn’t think I’d be able to do it on my own, luckily I came across Anon on the way and he’s willing to help me out”
>as she says this last bit, she gives me a tap on my holster
>“huh… so you got experience hunting wild kobold eh boy?”
>oh boy
>before I can say anything, Ablia cuts in
>“oh, you should have heard him on the way, this boy right here is a seasoned gecko slayer”
>“gecko? Like those little sticky lizards that hide under rocks?”
>“well… uh-
>“oh no, this were New Vegas geckos, as big as a person and some can even breath fire”
>oh boy, I guess I was a bit too convincing
>“well I’ll be dammed, boy you should crash by and tell me more about this Vegas gecko things some other time”
>”uh… sure~”
>“yeah, we need to get moving, kobolds are not going to wait for us”
>“well, I wish you success girl… and you too Anon”
>“t-thanks sir, I’ll see you later”
>Ablia leads me into her cabin
>it’s a pretty cozy place
>there’s a lot of evidently hand crafter furniture, chests, and a bed made out of fur of different animals
>Ablia opens a chest and pulls out a big glass jar full of 45-70
>woaw
>she lets out an annoyed grunt before sprinting out of the door into her wagon
>she jumps back out and two empty bandoliers in her hands
>she bursts back in and starts filling them with rounds
>“what exactly is the plan?”
>“we go into their nests and kill the little bastards”
>“sounds… simple?”
>“don’t worry, wild kobolds are just bigger than average dumb lizards”
>“ok…”
>she pulls out a bunch of leather armor out of a chest and throws some at me
>a pretty rough leather breastplate and wrist braces
>meanwhile she’s rocking newer and cooler looking ones
>her breastplate even has shoulder pad and shit
>oh ok… I see how it is
>“put those on, they’ll fit tightly but they’ll fit
>I do as she says and indeed, they are a little adjusted
>“is this really necessary for some kobolds?”
>“they are stupid creature but they still can chew you up pretty”
>“pretty…?”
>“pretty fucked up”
>“oh…”
>she readies some other things and puts them in a leather bag that she then puts on her back
>we leave her cabin and she looks at the sky
>“augh, we are gonna take so long to get back to the nest…”
>ah, my time to shine
>“do you need anything else other than what you are carrying?”
>“not really… why?”
>“why not go in my bike then…”
>“but it only has one seat”
>“yeah but… here let me show you”
>I walk her to the bike and kneel down beside it
> “these are the passenger foot pegs, you stand on those”
>“oh neat”
>I sit on the seat and Ablia swings her foot over the bike
>“like this?”
>“yeah”
>“and then I stand on these things”
>“aha, and hold onto my shoulders”
>“ok, like this?”
>“yeah perfect, just be careful with your tail, I don’t want to mangle it with the wheel sprocket by accident”
>“…ok”
>I start the bike and we get rolling slowly
>“so, where to?”
>“out of town where we came from, I’ll guide you to the forest when we get there”
>“righto“
>I put on my helmet and pick up speed
>Mr. Henst waves us goodbye
>“I wish you success hunters”
>riding with Ablia in the back is kind of awkward
>I feel like the bike is less stable when turning
>well, she is carrying a lot of equipment and a huge 45-70 ri- wait a minute…
>I pull over out of the road and stop the bike
>“wait, why you stop? what’s the matter?”
>“where’s your rifle?”
>Ablia freezes for a second before gasping
>“oh for fuck’s sa-
>we awkwardly ride back to her house to retrieve her rifle
>fortunately, Mr. Henst was no around to see us being retarded
>Ablia retrieved her rifle from her wagon and we head out… again
>“sorry…”
>“yeah don’t… don’t worry about it”
>we continue out of the road we originally came in
>after a few minutes of riding, Ablia squeezes my shoulder and tells me to slow down
>“It’s around here somewhere… ah there”
>she points at a pair of trees right next to the road tied together with a rope
>“this is the place”
>we pull over
>Ablia hops off and unties the line of rope
>“could you turn that off, we don’t want the kobolds to hear us coming”
>makes sense
>I turn of the bike and push it out of the road and into the forest
>“I’m not gonna let it out there in the open, hold on”
>I quickly grabbed my bike by the handles and hid it between a tree and a bush
>then I walked to the road to look at where it was to make sure it couldn’t be seen by anyone using the road
>I gave Ablia an ok sign and we walked deeper into the forest
>we walked in total silence until we reached a small mound of dirt and rocks among the trees
>Ablia kneeled down and waved at me to come closer
>I kneeled down beside her and then she whispered to me
>“wild kobolds may be stupid, but they have pretty good senses”
>she slowly opened the bag she had brought and started digging through it
>“here, we’ll need this”
>she hands me a pair of rubber earplugs and a headlamp
>she pulls out her own plugs and lamp
>“check you everything before we go in… oh, no talking beyond this point”
>I put the plugs on my ears and the lamp on my forehead before pulling out my Hi-Power and checking that it’s loaded
>I’m ready so I give Ablia a thumbs up
>she nods and then guides me around the mound, until we found a small opening between some rocks
>she twists her lamp, turning it on
>I do the same
>if she chose this type of headlamp because it doesn’t make a click when turned on, I don’t know it that’s clever or too much
>she points at me and then cocks her head towards the entrance
>signaling me to go first
>hell no, does she think I’m some sort of expe-oh fuck
>I should have kept my mouth shut
>Ablia points at my pants and then presses her index and her thumb together
>and then points at herself and separates her index and her thumb
>did she just say that she has a bigger dick than me?
>…
>oh no she was pointing at my holster and her rifle
>she’s telling me to go in first because I got the shorter gun
>that makes a bit more sense, I got the more agile weapon for this cramped cave that smells like kobold ass
>ok… concentrate Anon
>they are just like geckos from New Vegas
>you can take them on
>ok...
>let’s do this
>I fight the urge to crack my knuckles and then head inside the cave
>I look back to see Ablia following me
>good
>she didn’t plan to use me as bait
>the walls in this cave seem a little to perfect to be natural
>they are straight and the dirt that composes them is patted dense in order to avoid collapse
>it’s not natural, hence forth I shall refer to it as a den
>with that said, it’s a pretty claustrophobic den
>it’s been getting narrower and narrower
>the ceiling has been getting shorter too
>we can’t even walk properly anymore
>we have to slouch down a lot
>and I mean a lot
>we are pretty much in the fetal position except standing up and waddling forward
>and then it suddenly opens up
>this most be some sort of room
>I don’t know what to compare this
>like a den of naked mole rats?
>meerkats maybe?
>doesn’t matter
>there are no kobolds here but there are cracked eggshells bits all over the floor
>is this like some sort of birthing room?
>why would they have that directly connected to the entrance?
>my big thonk is interrupted by a growling from within the room
>I turned around to the source to see a lizardy creature slowly crawling towards us
>behind it was a small hole in the wall, probably where it came from
>it hissed and growled at our presence
>I hesitantly lifted pointed my gun at it while backing away
>before I could pull the trigger it stands on its hind legs and runs towards us
>mouth open and making angry lizard noises
>instinctively I pulled the trigger twice
>putting both bullets in its upper torso
>enclose space makes the gunfire drill my ears even with the plugs on
>the sudden flash is alleviated by our flashlights but it’s still enough to strain my eyes
>the reptilian assailant drops to the floor
>its body silently writhes for a few seconds before seizing
>I must have hit something important like the lungs or the heart
>I definitely meant to do that
>suddenly, something feels wrong
>something is coming our way
>I can feel it
>and Ablia does too
>she kneels down and readies her rifle, aiming the hole the kobold came in through
>I too kneel down and ready my pistol
>with a puff of dust and dirt, two more of the lizards pop out of the hole and run at us
>Ablia takes her shot and hits the one running at her square in the chest
>the thunderous bang makes my ears ring and the flash makes me flinch my eyes close on instinct
>the force of the 45-70 is enough strike the kobold back into the ground, killing it instantly
>I suck up the ear damage and fire at the second lizard twice
>this time my shots don’t land as good
>it still falls to the ground clutching its bleeding abdomen
>however, this time it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna die soon
>it just writhes on the floor more dramatically than the last one I shot
>I raise my pistol to put a bullet in its head and finally kill it
>but before I can pull the trigger, Ablia pounces on the kobold and sticks a bowie knife on its neck
>I release my finger off the trigger and point up to avoid accidentally hitting Ablia
>she stands up with a bit of kobold blood on her hand and chest
>“don’t waste ammo on the dying ones… ok?”
>I swallow the spit building in my mouth out of anxiety and nod
>but before I can say anything, that feeling comes back
>with some echoing growls and hisses coming through the walls around us
>there’s more coming
>much more than just two this time
>“uh…”
>Ablia lets out a deep breath with a hint of concern in it
>she pulls the brass block out of the front of her magazine tube and drops one round in it
>to replace the one she spend on the kobold she killed
>how many rounds have I shot? …4?
>yeah, that means I have 10 left
>plus my other two full magazines
>phew
>I think we got this
>come one then...
>bring it on you scaly fucks
>a rumbling comes through the hole
>then a horde of kobolds start digging their way out
>I TAKE IT BACK!
>Ablia and I open fire on the kobolds
>killing/wounding them as they pour out
>Ablia is the first to run out of ammo
>she fiddles with her magazine tube and bandoliers
>I steady my shots while slowly walking backwards
>the slide of my pistol clicks back as my magazine runs dry
>I grab Ablias shoulder and scream “PULL BACK!”
>we book it to the entry tunnel we came through
>I enter first and start crawling out as fast as I can
>Ablia screams my name behind me
>I have barely enough room to turn around and see three kobols stuck in the tunnel
>one of them grabbed Ablia by the tail and the other two are reaching for her to pull her back inside
>I swap my mag and release the slide, chafing my hands and arms against the rocky walls
>suck it up faggot it’s an emergency
>I aim at the three lizard stooges and carefully unload five rounds into them
>they let go of Ablia and we quickly crawl out of the rest of the cave
>the light at the end of the tunnel means we’re almost there
>suddenly, a humanoid shape stands at the end of the light, obscuring its true form
>I raise my gun to figure until I hear its feminine voice calmly say “don’t shoot”
>I holster my gun and keep running, looking back to see if Ablia is still behind me
>she is
>we make it out of the tunnel, both of us tripping on the loose rocks at the entrance and falling into the grass
>I stagger up and turn around to see the elf that was with Mr. Henst helping Ablia up
>what is she doing here?
>what’s that burning sensation on my knuckles and elbows?
>I look at my arms to see that said burning are the areas where I scraped my skin off and now blood is pouring down my arms from
>oh…
>AAAAAAAAH!
>fuckfuckfuckfuck
>I walk over to Ablia and the elf with my arms stiffed up like a zombie
>Ablia is wounded too, she has blood pouring out of a pretty deep cut in her arm
>oh
>it’s a bullet wound...
>oh fuck
>oh I fucked up
>OH I FUCKED UP
>I sit down next to Ablia
>“are you ok?”
>“y-yeah I’m fine, I didn’t even feel it at the moment… it just stings a little”
>“I’m so-
>“n-no don’t worry, it was an accident and you did it to save me…”
>I stay silent beside her
>what do I say now?
>I hear a familiar voice behind me
>“good tracking Fridy, you picked it up easy”
>I turn around to see Mr. Henst rolling towards us on his wheelchair, wearing the clothes he had when he was at his house, except he now has a sling around his torso
>“Mr. Henst, what are you doing here?”
>“the moment I saw you young bucks coming back to get Ablias rifle, I knew you were distracted and that you would get yerself in trouble”
>“and you came here to help us?”
>he reaches for whatever he has in the sling and pull out an m4 with a 10.5’’ barrel
>“sure am”
>he said with a coy smile while pulling the charging handle
>“Fridy my dear, could you pass me the mag belt?”
>the elf nods and pulls out a bag of holding from her back pocket
>she reaches into it and pulls out a belt with five full STANAG mags tied to the belt with paracord
>“thank you dear”
>he lurches forward, falling forward from his chair
>he chuckles a bit as he loops the belt around his arm
>“hehe… that would have hurt if my nerves were still good, take care of them Fridy, I’ll be back in a bit”
>he crawls into the cave, only pulling himself forward with his arms
>he disappears into the darkness and a few seconds later, automatic fire echoes out of the cave entrance
>ok… if he survives he’ll get into the “old people that could beat the shit out of me” list
>“should we go help him?”
>“he’s going to be fine, let me take care of your wounds first”
>the elf fiddles with the bag of holding again and pulls out a jar with a viscous pink liquid, a brush and disinfectant towels
>she approaches me with the things, but I stop her
>“please, take care of Ablia first, mine injuries are just scrapes”
>I know I know... I'm a total gentlemen
>the elf nods and sits down besides Ablia
>she wipes the blood off her wound
>she then dips the brush into the pink slime and slathers it all over Ablia’s wound
>immediately, the wound starts to close
>it’s like seeing how the bullet would have gone through her arm except backwards and in slow motion
>…and without the bullet
>woaw
>the hair on Ablia’s tail and the inside of her ears starts to puff
>she looks discomforted
>but once her wound has fully healed, she lets out a sigh of relief
>the elf turns to me
>“now your turn”
>“oh… sure”
>I extend my arms forward towards her
>“please bend your arms a little, I need your elbow skin to be slightly stretched out”
>hehe that skin is called the wenis
>erh I mean…
>“ah… yeah, like this?”
>“yes, that’s perfect”
>just now I realize that the elf’s voice is a bit creepy
>it’s like a weird combination of soft and monotone, like a robot
>and it feels just as empty
>she does the same with my injuries as she did with Ablia’s
>the rubbing alcohol in the wipes stings a little
>but the pink slime was an alien sensation
>it started to be absorbed into my skin on contact
>an almost indescribable sensation surrounded the affected area
>it weird, I can’t find a way to describe it
>it wasn’t painful, just unpleasant
>and then my skin began to move to cover my exposed muscle
>I moved my hands close to my face to see it happen more closely
>I can actually see the fibers of my skin stretch out and reach for each other to close the wound
>every hair in my body starts to raise up as a sudden feeling of warmth envelops my body slowly
>it moves from my arms to my body and from there to my head and legs
>although my arms still feel unpleasant
>when it’s all done, I stand up and thank the elf for helping us
>she nods and then stares at the cave entrance
>it was at that moment when I realized the automatic fire had stopped
>oh
>“uh… do you think Mr. Henst is ok down there?”
>“I don’t know…”
>uh… not exactly what I wanted to hear
>I draw my pistol and check the chamber
>“I think we should go check on him”
>the elf nods
>I walk up to Ablia and help her up
>“we need to go down there to check on Henst”
>“right…”
>said Ablia as she reaches back and unslings her rifle
>we move to the cave entrance
>I look back to see the elf standing on the same place, staring at the ground
>uh…
>“miss uh…”
>the elf raises her head
>“Fridely, but you can call me Fridy”
>“right, are you co-
>“no”
>…
>ok… I guess she’s not coming
>we turn on our flashlights and head down the cave again
>everything is eerily quiet and looks the same
>or so it does until we arrive at the first chamber of the den
>there’s a bunch of new kobold bodies all over the floor
>way more than the ones we killed
>the floor is also littered with 5.56 cases and blood
>but besides that, no signs of Mr. Henst so far
>I kneel down on one of the kobold corpses
>it has a single entry hole between its eyes
>I whistle as I turn the body upside down to see the exit wound
>uncovering one of Henst’s STANAG mags that was under the corpse
>I pick up the magazine and turn to Ablia
>she’s staring at the walls, her ears pivoting around to catch any possible sound
>“hey Ablia, look at this… he isn’t the kind to leave these behind is he?”
>“I… don’t know”
>“well he clearly isn’t here, so let’s look deeper”
>Ablia nods as we make our way to the hole in the wall
>I inspect it a bit
>it looks like I can fit through it
>I try to climb in but Ablia stops me
>“are you sure he went that way?”
>“well… there doesn’t seem to any other way deeper”
>“yeah but… ok, just be careful”
>“right”
>I grab my pistol from its holster and climb into the hole with my hand holding the pistol pointing forwards
>the hole is shorter than what I expected
>it twists up, but I can see another open chamber just after the bend
>I can easily crawl through, but I don’t know how Ablia will do it with her rifle on her
>…
>ok I think I got it
>“hey Ablia, could you pass me your rifle?”
>“what?”
>“hold on…”
>I climb down the hole and bend down
>“pass me your rifle so you can fit”
>“oh ok”
>she works the lever six times, expending five rounds
>she then twists it around and hands it to me stock first
>“here… b-but please don’t scratch the finish”
>she then bends down to pick up the 5 rounds she ejected
>I carefully work the rifle around the cramped tunnel
>I gently place it on the ground around the exit of the hole and then I climb out
>“you can come through now”
>after a few seconds of huffing and other weird noises I see the top of Ablia’s head come out of the hole
>I help her up and hand her the rifle
>she pops the magazine tube stop to reload while I continue looking around the room
>even at the ceiling
>those scaly sonsobitches are capable of some good climbing
>“hey Anon, over here”
>I look over to Ablia
>she has found another passageway
>she leans on the wall besides it
>“you first”
>of course…
>I hold my pistol forward
>checking every possible corner
>most of which are simply weird formations in the rock tricking my mind
>until we reach the entrance to another chamber
>“let’s check here”
>when we enter the room a waft of foul-smelling air hits us suddenly
>Ablia covers her nose and gags
>“augh… what the hell is that smell? It’s like rotten egg^1000”
>“I don’t know but there’s definitely something here”
>hopefully not their toilet
>I get a good look at the room and the first thing I notice is a big patch of something on the floor
>it covers a lot of the room, like a carpet but awful smelling
>it looks like a mix of dead grass, straw, and pebbles
>it has random bumps everywhere
>what in the holy heaven is this?
>I poke one of the bumps with my shoe and blood gushes out
>“uh… Ablia... come looks at this”
>Ablias come forth still clutching her nose
>“oh what the actual FU-UCK is that?”
>I pinch some of the straw and pull it off to not stain myself with the blood and whatever else is mixed in there
>I can see a figure among the grass and other deciduous
>it’s…
>…a dead baby kobold?
>it’s a bunch of dead baby kobolds and crushed eggs
>and every bump is a bunch
>…
>ooh…
>this was like a nursery chamber or something like that
>“it’s a nursery… this straw thing was some sort of eh… communal nest”
>Ablia squats down besides me and takes a look
>“oh yeah… I think that also explains the smell”
>“how so? It’s only been like 15 minutes since Mr. Henst entered, the eggs and corpses couldn’t have rotten in that time”
>“it’s not the rot that smells… female kobolds lay their eggs here and you know… they…”
>“they…?”
>“they leak...”
>“oh”
>“yeah… plus the babies eat, piss and shit here for their first weeks alive so…”
>“so we should keep looking for Henst”
>Ablia stands up and cracks her knuckles and neck
>“yeah… come on big guy, you go first”
>I take one last look at the nest as we leave
>“…do you guys feel bad when you have to do this kind of things?”
>Ablia lets out a deep sigh
>“yeah at first but… with time I understood that it was necessary”
>“yeah, I guess you’re right… can’t have vengeful orphan kobolds coming back for us”
>Ablia chuckles a bit at my remark and then we move on
>the tunnel branches into a bunch of different smaller chambers
>most are either completely empty or are unremarkable
>that’s until we reach the end of the line
>a big chamber with weird rock formations on the center
>they look like those stone piles from the Blair witch but big
>and Mr. Henst is lying motionless on top of it
>"uh... Ablia... look"
>"oh no... MISTER HENST!"
>she starts running at him
>"NO ABLIA WAIT!"
>I shouted as looked around the room
>quickly trying to decipher what had happened here
>and if we had fallen into a trap
>Ablia climbs the rock pile to check on Mr. Henst
>she kicks some rock at me by accident but I climb up to cover her
>I keep scanning the room with my pistol ready
>there doesn’t seem to be movement around
>but up here I can see a mass of bodies previously hidden behind the rock pile
>kobold bodies
>all shot to shit like the previous ones
>jesus... some of them are still twitching
>my attention returns to Mr. Henst when he starts coughing violently
>his clothes are all stained in blood, but he doesn’t seem to be wounded
>what the hell happened here?
>I kneel down beside him
>his eyes are heavy
>he yawns and stretched his arms
>Ablia is just as confused as I am
>Mr. Henst clears his throat and slowly sits up
>“oh hello there kids… looks like I feel asleep once I was done with all this lizards”
>what?
>he fell asleep?
>HOW DOES ONE FALL ASLEEP AFTER MASSACRATING A NEST OF KOBOLDS?
>“Mr. Henst are you ok?”
>“yeah yeah I’m fine, it happens someti-
>Ablia interrupts Mr. Henst by suddenly hugging him thightly, her tail wagging happily
>“woaw there girl… don’t jump on me like that, I’m not as resilient as I used to be”
>“I’m sorry sir… I-I thought something bad happened to you”
>“oh Ablia my girl… I may not be in my prime anymore, but kobold is still easy pickings for me”
>he chuckles at his own remark
>I sit down besides both of them and ask
>“mister… what exactly happened here?”
>“oh it’s just bad timing sonny, but it could have been worse”
>“I- what does that mean?”
>he sighs and pats Ablia, who is still locked around him, in the head
>“years ago, some doctors from the new world told me there’s something wrong in my head”
>“oh”
>“they said I had lack of hyposomething and that made me drop asleep like a brick from time to time, just… out of the blue”
>what? hyposomething? suddenly falling asleep?
>that’s narcolepsy, isn’t it?
>yeah something like that
>“you… suffer from narcolepsy?”
>“ah yeah, that’s the one”
>...
>wut?
>“how long have you had this?”
>“well, it started back in my mid 20s but I only got it diagnosed 10 years later soon after the merge happened”
>“wait, wasn’t the merge like uh… a big clusterfuck?”
>“oh yeah, definitely… the metal planes filled the skies and new humans spread out from the portals on their automobiles, exploring all around looking for trade and treasure”
>“really? how was your first encounter?”
>“how about I tell you on the way out? the smell of kobold is starting to drive me nuts”
>“eh, sure”
>Ablia tries to pick him up but Henst refuses
>“you take the front girl, have the big boy help me instead”
>“I don’t think I can, this rifle is too cumbersome on this small space”
>“oh stubborn girl, you really think I left any kobolds alive?”
>“I- no I…”
>Ablia starts to blush and fidget with her thumbs
>“oh I’m just playing with you girl, it’ll be fine… ok Anon, help me get out of this stinking hole”
>“righto sir”
>I holstered my pistol and lifted up mister Henst with one arm under his knees and the other around his torso
>when I picked him up, I heard something clatter on the ground
>it was his short barrel m4
>I had to lean weirdly to pick it up and give it to him
>and we made our way out after carefully sliding down the rock pile
>on the way, Mr. Henst told us the story about how the humans from my world came to the area and how they affected
>it was a convoy of explorers from the united states that came into their village to study the locals
>it was them who introduced the village to new clothing, firearms, better building and cooking techniques and so much more
>and also, it was one of their doctors who taught him basic English and diagnosed him with narcolepsy
>he told the story with great enthusiasm and a fondness
>a bit vague at times but I was legitimately interested on everything he said
>like listening to a retired veteran
>except without getting spat on the face everytime he speaks
>he was really sad once the explorers finished their studies and had to leave
>and he also told me how pretty much nobody in the village had seen a motorized vehicle since then
>guess that explains why my bike was such a head-turner
>once back at the weird hole near the entrance, Mr. Henst asks me to put him down
>he leaves his rifle on the ground and crawls into the hole
>his limp legs flopping about kinda reminded me of a worm
>I don’t know why I found that funny
>after him, Ablia also leaves her rifle on the ground and crawls through
>I carefully pass them their weapons through before crawling in and reaching the entrance chamber
>by the time I crawl through Henst was already crawling out of the cavern
>Ablia staying back to make sure I’m following them
>I catch up to them and we finally leave this shitty hole behind
>outside, Fridy was waiting for Mr. Henst
>she picked him up and sat him on his wheelchair
>Ablia and I took inventory to make sure we weren’t leaving anything behind
>that’s when I remembered the abandoned mag I picked up earlier
>I pulled it out of my back pocket and gave it back
>“Mr. Henst, I found this when we were looking for you”
>“ah… thanks sonny, I knew I was forgetting something”
>“no problem sir”
>Ablia approached me from behind and tapped me in the shoulder
>she had picked up everything she had left outside of the cave
>“everything’s good, we can go back now”
>“wait, how are we gonna take Fridy and Mr. Henst with us? my bike only seats two”
>“oh don’t worry about us Anon boy, if Fridy and I were able to track you both here, we can find our way back easily”
>“are… you sure about that?”
>“oh it’s fine son, we’ll probably get there before you anyway”
>yeah right
>“well, guess we better get moving then”
>Ablia nods in agreement as we turn back the way we came through before
>as we leave, Mr. Henst shouts out to us one last time
>“hey Ablia, I want to speak with you privately later”
>he sounds ominously serious about that
>huh...
>Ablia seems to worry a bit about that but she keeps her composure
>as we walk back, I turn to see Ablia walking besides me
>she’s starting to look more worried
>head looking down, ears pointed back and tail straight down and moving slowly
>“what are you thinking about?”
>“he’s… probably gonna scold me for getting too cocky… and for having to come rescue us…”
>“is that like, bad? I mean, does he do things to you…?”
>“what? no! no he doesn’t do anything to me!”
>“sorry, you just look really worried… hold on, my bike is around here”
>I start moving the bushes out of my way and pull my bike out of the foliage
>meanwhile Ablia checks on her things to make sure she didn’t forget anything
>“it’s well deserved actually” Ablia mutters to herself
>“hm”
>I get my bike off the bushes and back into the road
>hop on and start the engine
>Ablia stands on the foot pegs and taps my shoulder
>“hit it”
>nod as I adjust my helmet on
>I rev the engine slightly before slowly releasing the clutch and accelerating back into town
>back at Ablia’s house
>I park outside and look over to Mr. Henst’s house
>he and Fridy are sitting on fancy chairs on their front porch
>they are drinking coffee and reading books
>Mr. Henst has his M4 on his lap
>they turn over to us and wave with friendly smiles on their faces
>how did-
>but they don’t-
>…
>not even gonna question it anymore
>I help Ablia carry all her stuff inside
>I take off the leather armor she lend me and store it back in the chest it was
>Ablia takes her armor off and throws it into a corner before falling backwards into her bed
>she lets out a deep sigh before curling up into a ball and covering herself with her tail
>I sit awkwardly on the floor and press my forehead against a wall
>smacking my lips from time to time
>“anon…”
>“mh?”
>“is there someone you look up to?… someone who taught you a lot?… and now you feel like you own your life to them?”
>“uh…”
>Ablia suddenly sits upright and stares at me
>“my parents…? I guess…?”
>“aww come on, something less cliché than that”
>“well, I never really had any big role models outside of my family”
>“not even like… people in books and stories and stuff?”
>“like fictitious characters?”
>“I think- yes… that fictius thing you said”
>“nope, they were just characters to me”
>Ablia scoots over to the edge of her bed and sighs again
>“oh…”
>“this ties back to Henst, right?”
>Ablia’s tail starts to rhythmically tap on the bed
>“yeah…”
>“you admire him a lot… and it makes you feel bad when he scolds you right?
>Ablia closes her eyes and nods
>“but he’s not malicious, is he?”
>Ablia shakes her head
>“well, like you said, it’s well deserved… you made mistakes, I made mistakes and we both got in trouble”
>“well… yeah but…”
>“it may feel bad, but I’m sure he just wants the best for you… you just have to listen and learn”
>Ablia starts to smile slowly before giving me a friendly chuckle
>I can see a glimmer form in her eyes as she takes a deep breath
>“thanks Anon…”
>“no problem…”
>I said softly as she transmitted that smile on me
>aw, that made me feel fuzzy inside
>the good kind, not the nauseous kind
>“so… is there anything you need Anon? anything around here you want to see?”
>“well, now that you mentioned it, I kinda came here to get something but I can’t quite remember what”
>a sudden rumble in my innards reminded me why I had come here in the first place
>“oh yeah... I came here to trade and get some food”
>Ablia giggles
>“alright Anon, I bet the farmers will be surprise to finally meet someone who speaks English”
>“uh… what do you mean?” I asked between nervous chuckles
>“I think you are the first outsider to come here and speak English in a long time”
>“really? how long?”
>“ah… twentysomething years I think”
>Ablia gets up from her bed and starts to undo her boots
>“oh… didn’t the portals open like 30 years ago?”
>Ablia bites her lips and lifts her shoulders
>"uhm..."
>“your guess is as good as mine, all we have is mouth-to-mouth stories and memories from old people… and time, well…”
>“oh how the harsh winds of time erode the finer details” I sang in a mocking fashion
>“yep”
>Ablia slipped into some more comfortable shoes
>“so how do you guy know English so well then?”
>“it became custom to teach the young English after a time of prosperity those somethingsomething years ago… and even then, not everybody speaks it perfectly, I'm one of the more advanced speakers”
>I stand up and fix my shirt
>“how does prosperity bring about linguistical revolution?”
>“because that prosperity came with a group of new humans that ““showed us the wonders of the new world!”” and other stuff like that”
>“figured… so you guys aren’t as prosperous anymore?”
>“we’re good but we got some minor problems like land disputes and lack of trade with outsiders and some… other… bigger problems…”
>before I can question any further, the sound of a bang echoes muffled by distance
>Ablia’s ears stand up and start pivoting around
>“was that… a gunshot?”
>Ablia’s ears and tail hairs started to puff up
>several more bangs echo through the walls followed closely by muffled automatic fire
>“yes! Yes it is!” I confirmed to myself as I moved away from any windows
>“oh no… why today” muttered Ablia as she kneeled down and crawled under her bed
>“what? what’s going on?!”
>“the biggest problem… bandits”
>my heart sank for a moment
>oh no indeed
>I slowly made my way up to a window to peak outside at what was going on
>it sounded far away so I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything either way
>what I did see however, was Frify pushing Mr. Henst on his wheelchair
>directly heading the way the gunshots came from, both lugging M4s and chest rigs
>uh…
>I think I should be worried about that
>“uhm… Ablia?”
>“y-yeah?”
>“I saw Mr. Henst and Fridy running towards the shots”
>“WHAT?!”
>Ablia quickly scurried from under the bed
>“oh no… oh nonononononono”
>Ablia starts pacing in circles biting her nails
>“what do we do?! MR. HENST NEVER RISKED HIMSELF LIKE THIS BEFORE!”
>“well, it seems he’s had enough of the raider’s bullshit”
>“oh my god… we gotta go help him”
>“I only have 21 rounds of 9mm left… I don’t think I can do much against a band of raiders, but I’ll help you keep the old man safe”
>“…right…”
>Ablia wipes the sweat of her face and picks her rifle and bandolier up
>she loads her rifle and chambers a round
>“come on Anon… I- we-”
>“calm down, let’s go make sure your oldie stays alive”
>Ablia takes a deep breath and nods
>“right” I said as I checked my chamber
>I opened the door and we quickly ran out
>“they were moving this way, come on!”
>I know they have some weird tricks up their sleeves, but I’m sure they’re heading for the gunshots
>we ran a good few minutes up the dirt road
>when we got closer to the shots, I pulled Ablia to the side and we took cover behind a wooden shack
>“listen, the fight is up ahead, don’t just rush in”
>“wait! be careful who you shoot at, the bandits tend to have their faces painted in white chalk”
>I nod my head
>that’s good to know
>we peek around the corner of the building
>we could hear the gunshots ahead of us but we couldn’t see much
>suddenly I hear Ablia scream my name behind me
>I turn around to see a tall figure holding a machete up and ready to strike me down
>the details were obscured as the sun behind him coated his frontside in shade
>oh god
>the figure let out a blood curdling screech as he moved in for the kill
>a combination of my natural reflexes plus me flinching because if the scream forced my spine to curve down and get my head out of the way of the blade
>I still felt as it grazed off a bit of my hair
>the machete lodged itself on the wooden pillar of the shack we were next to
>immediately I raised my pistol up and fired upon the figure until it fell to the floor
>I didn’t even count how many times I shot it at the time
>before I can contemplate the sequence of events that just unfolded before me, I hear Ablia screaming again
>I again turn around to see Ablia lying on her back
>there’s another bandit with a knife looming over her
>before the bandit can act, I raise my pistol and shoot the bastard three times on the back
>the bandit arches back dramatically before going down on his side
>making a hearty thud as his body hit the ground
>Ablia scurries away from the body and starts hyperventilating
>I kick the bandit’s body around
>his face was marked with weird runes made of white chalk
>this are, indeed, the bandits Ablia talked about
>I walk over to Ablia and help her up
>she has trickles of blood on her chest
>she takes a deep breath and calms down
>“oh my god…”
>“are you ok?”
>“y-yeah… thank you, you saved my hide”
>“where’s your rifle?”
>“it fell over uh… there it is”
>she walks over and picks her rifle up and inspects it
>“oh motherfuckers… it got scratched”
>“where did they…?”
>Ablia checks her chamber
>she’s loaded
>“they sneaked up on us from this way”
>she says as she points to a small path behind the shack
>a flanking maneuver eh?
>let’s see how they handle a counter-flank
>“ok, then we’re going that way”
>“that’s… a stupid idea”
>“well would you rather go through the open?”
>as if on cue, a stray bullet lands nearby and kicks some dirt up
>Ablia rubs her face and sighs
>“don’t worry, as long as we can cover each other we’ll be fine ok?”
>Ablia wipes some sweat of her forehead and nods
>“ok… ok”
>I pop my magazine out and count my shots
>four in the mag and one in the chamber
>I reach into my pocket and pull out another full mag to keep handy
>"let's go"
>as we sneak through the back of some shacks, the distant gunfire grows louder and louder
>nearing the corner of an alley, I can see the shadow of a man casting down onto the ground
>there’s someone on that alley
>we get closer
>sneaking as hard as we can
>just before I can turn the corner, the figure that casted the shadow jumps around and lashes against me
>chalk marks, it’s a bandit
>he has a knife on his hand and a pistol on a hip holster
>he takes a slash at me but misses my neck by an inch
>the sudden attack makes me fall back
>the bandit starts to move his free hand towards his holster
>I raise my pistol to take him out but before he can get ahold of his gun
>right before I pull the trigger, a loud bang thunders behind my head
>I can feel the shockwave of the explosion slightly ruffle my hair as it propels a 70-grain piece of lead towards the bandit
>it hits him on the neck, right below the chin
>killing him instantly
>the corpse of the bandit falls back and rolls into a shallow ditch beside the path
>Ablia places her hand on my shoulder and starts moving her mouth
>I can’t really hear her well though
>my ears ring for a few more seconds
>I think if this keeps up plus all that enclosed shooting at the cave early today…
>…I’m definitely gonna end up with some permanent damage
>my ears start to clear and Ablia’s voice becomes understandable again
>“-at’s the matter? are you ok Anon?”
>“augh my ears… I mean- yeah I’m fine, let’s keep going”
>Ablia takes a deep breath and works the lever of her rifle
>expending an empty case
>I walk over to the death bandit
>“hold on, I saw he had a gun on him”
>“yeah so what?”
>“I don’t have much ammo left”
>I pull out the pistol from its holster
>it’s a pretty worn down makarov (AKA it's rusted to shit)
>shit, I don’t know much about these
>I check the pistol
>there’s already a round in the chamber and the magazine seems full
>I don’t know how much ammo these things can hold though
>guess I'm gonna find out soon
>I look back at Ablia
>she’s staring off like the virgin Mary is talking to her
>her ears are twitching around
>she suddenly looks over at the alley and takes cover on the corner
>“someone’s coming”
>oh shit
>I take cover on the corner the other side of the alley and holster my hi-power
>“hold on Anon”
>her ears are moving are fixed on the alleyway
>“wha-
>“just hold on”
>I hear a pair of running footsteps enter the alley
>someone is running at us pretty quickly
>just before that someone runs between us, Ablia jumps out of cover to grab the person
>she pulls them behind cover while covering their mouth
>it’s another woman, she has a bleeding wound on her left arm but no chalk marks
>it’s a local woman
>she panics for a second before taking a good look at Ablia and calming down
>the woman starts to whisper to Ablia on their native tongue
>while they are talking to each other I peak around the corner
>there are two people sneaking their way down the alley
>a man and a woman, both shirtless and marked
>the man catches me peeking
>he raises a knife and lets out a war cry before lunging down the alleyway at full speed
>oh shit
>I raise the Makarov and pull the trigger three times
>only two shots ring out and the trigger goes hard on the third
>the man goes down but the woman behind him lets out a screech before lunging with her own knife even faster
>I raise the Makarov again to see the slide has locked back
>uh… how?
>OH FUCK
>the woman tackles me to the ground
>she raises her knife in the air all while letting out these blood curling banshee shrieks
>before she can bring it down and stab me, Ablia hits her over the head with the stock of her rifle
>[YouTube] Bonk Sound Effect #2 (embed)
>she falls to the floor unconsious
>Ablia helps me up
>before I can say anything she shoots the knocked out woman in the back of the head
>uh...
>...
>no you know what?
>I was gonna object to that but she tried to fucking stab me
>fuck that bitch

>I sigh in relief and look down at the Makarov
>this fucking thing is so caked that the rust of the slide got stuck with the rust of the fucking frame
>sweet baby Jesus, how do you fuck up weapon maintenance that bad?
>I try pulling the slide back
>nothing
>I hit the pistol against the wall
>the slide flies forward while making an evil scratching noise
>a puff of rust flies out of the barrel as the slide locks into battery
>augh
>good thing I got my tetanus shot renewed shortly before crossing to this side
>I peek around the corner down the alley again
>nothing
>nothing beyond the intense exchange of gun fire a few dozen yards over
>I walk down the alleyway slowly
>turning back to see if Ablia is behind me
>she’s still talking to the woman
>Ablia points at the direction we came from and the woman nods
>the woman then runs away that direction
>Ablia then turns around and walks up behind me
>“what did you tell her?”
>I whispered into her ear
>“I told her to go near my house because the raiders haven’t gotten there yet”
>…yet…
>I don’t like that mindset
>“come on, I think we are close”
>we walk to the end of the alley
>there was a lot of noise coming from around the corner
>I dropped to the ground and slightly peeked my head around to see
>there were two wagons on the middle of the street with people taking cover behind them
>there were also three dead horses and several marked people around the wagons
>those must be the bandit’s transport then
>my suspicions were confirmed when a man with chalk on his face peaked around the wagon and started taking potshots at a window of a nearby building with an AR-15
>suddenly, a shot cracks above me
>instinctively, I flinch and cover my head
>I feel a piece of hot brass bounce of my arm
>the man is now on the ground clutching his lower abdomen
>still alive but very much in pain
>I look up to see Ablia resting her rifle on the corner
>smoke still coming out of the barrel
>"nice shot!
>I blurt out

>I look back at the wagons
>I can see the legs of someone behind the closest one
>take aim with the Makarov
>hmmm… no
>“hey Ablia, behind the closest wagon”
>“huh?”
>“behind the rear wheels, he’s standing up”
>“oh!”
>Ablia takes aim
>another shot cracks above me
>the bullet punches through the fabric walls of the wagon
>hitting the person on the other side
>he falls to the ground dead
>“you got‘em!”
>actually
>judging by the dead jiggly breast and long hair, I think it was a woman
>oh woops
>well gender doesn’t matter when it comes to dead bandits
>that’s true equality right there
>“oh hold on… I think I see another on-
>suddenly, a barrage of shots rings out from behind the wagon
>the bullets go through the fabric and hit the corner we were peeking from
>sending wood splinters flying everywhere
>“OH SHI-
>I cover my head with my arms while still visible from the other side of the corner
>like a fucking retard
>I feel something grab my feet and pull
>I look back to see Ablia pulling me away from the corner
>“sweet baby FUCK! WHAT THE Jesus WAS THAT?”
>“they used our own idea against us”
>“we need to back away from here Anon!”
>“hold on, I think we can sti-
>the moment I move closer to the corner, another barrage hits
>this time actually tearing big chunks out of the wood
>“yep, we’re backing off”
>we moonwalk the fuck out of there and hide behind the actual buildings again
>Ablia swipes the sweat of her forehead
>then her ears perk up
>“someone’s coming”
>“oh shit”
>I lean out of the corner, only to see another marked man with an AR on his hands aiming down the alley
>OH FUCK
>I move out of the way just as the hail of bullets whiz by the corner where I stood
>I try to retaliate by blind firing the Makarov around the corner
>only for it to get shot out of my hand after three shots
>I turn to Ablia
>“I think we should back off more”
>“yeah maybe we-
>at that very moment, a storm of automatic fire rang out from behind us
>that sounded like... no way!

>I slowly peek again
>the bandit lays dead on the ground
>his chest riddled with holes
>damn…
>“come on, we got cover”
>I run down the alley and take the AR from the bandit’s cold dead hands
>it’s an ordinary AR with M4 furniture and a blood-stained sling made out of paracord
>the paint is scratched to shit but otherwise seems perfectly functional
>well except for the magazine
>one of the walls is bulging outwards and the floor plate is gone
>there’s a spring and follower along with a handful of 5.56 on the ground
>a stray bullet from the barrage must have hit the magazine
>shit
>I pull it out and then pat the corpse down for more ammo
>he has a full mag on his back pocket
>nice
>shove it in and pull a little on the charging handle
>one round already chambered
>breath in Anon
>…ok…
>let’s try this again
>I lean against the corner and aim towards the wagons
>there doesn’t seem to be much movement
>until a bandit with an AK peeks out of cover and starts shooting towards the window of a building
>suddenly, two streams of automatic fire emerge from darkened windows
>each one from a different building
>on opposite sides of the street
>the rain of lead reigns true as it pelts the perp
>dropping him instantly
>blowing the dust cover and recoil spring off his gun
>I take the opportunity to advance
>running into the open and diving behind the corpse of a horse
>wait for a few seconds
>nothing
>peek over the torso of the horse and see no movement
>advance again
>this time besides the closest wagon
>peek around to see a knife poking out the fabric of the wagon
>the knife glides down and a bandit pops out of the opening
>he falls to the ground and lands on his back
>he groans in pain and rubs the back of his head
>opening his eyes only to see me already aiming for his head
>we stare at each other wide eyed for around 10 seconds
>he then quickly reaches for his waistband
>I don’t hesitate on popping him in the head
>...
>I think that was the last of them
>phew..

>I sling the AR on my back and stretch
>the combat high dies down and I start to feel lightheaded
>augh… come on Anon
>breath in through the nose
>out through the mouth
>yeah…
>that’s it…
>phew...
>ok...
>I’m good...
>...
>...my ears are ringing...
>fuck...
>I walk over to the last bandit and poke him with my boot
>yep, very dead
>I turn him over with my boot to see what he was reaching for
>out of his waistband pokes a black and stubby gri-it’s a hi-point
>yeah I'm not even touching with that
>I look over to the hole the bandit made in his attempted escape
>there’s some stuff inside
>can’t really tell from out here
>climb inside
>it’s filled with boxes
>boxes of which some are filled with holes themselves
>ooh and a corpse
>female bandit holding a krinkov in 7.62
>probably a Zastava M92
>not a full auto receiver though
>hmmm...
>looks like she was hiding inside when a couple of stray bullets got her in the chest
>I open one of the crates
>it’s filled with weird bread
>it’s hard and tacky and…
>it’s hardtack
>this are rations for the trip
>does that mean that they came from far away?
>just to die raiding this little village?
>hmph
>but it doesn’t seem like they ate much of their rations
>hold on
>I start opening boxes and looking at their contents
>cabbage, onions, assorted smoked meats, wine? salt and pepper corns?
>all of the boxes are almost full or intact
>minus the ones that got riddled with bullets of course
>why would they pack all this food and not eat it?
>even if they eat the same amount of food on the return trip it’s still too much
>almost to an unnecessary degree
>I stand up and jump out of the wagon through the hole
>raising dust from the ground as I land
>I swipe the sweat off my forehead and look around
>only to see that I’m surrounded by the muzzles of several firearms
>none of people behind the rifles and pistols have chalk marks on their faces
>I slowly put my hands up
>"uh... hi?"

>a few of the people lower their weapons and look at me with confusion
>the rest hold their aim
>“I’m… I’m with you guys… right?”
>the rest of the mob lowers their weapons
>“HEY… HEY!”
>I hear a familiar voice shout from among the crowd
>Ablia pushes through the people and stands in front of me
>she starts giving them a spiel in their language
>out of which the only thing I understood was my name and the word “English”
>the crowd stays silent
>a dwarf carrying a Remington 700 breaks the silence by stepping forth and asking me
>“english?”
>“yes, I speak En-
>the dwarf smiles and raises my hand in the air (or as high as his height will let him)
>he then shouts to the mob while pointing at me with his other hand
>“HE’S ENGLISH!”
>the crowd gasps in unison and start whispering to each other
>“what? no I’m-
>feel someone tap my shoulder from behind
>I turn around to see an old woman, about 70, holding a Valmet RK 62 in her arms
>“excuse me sir strange, is you the one who ride in this morning on weird tin horse?”
>“yes… it’s called a motorcycle”
>the woman smiles and nods
>before turning around and shouting to the mob
>“HE SAID HE CALLED MOTORCYCLE”
>the crowd goes “oooh” with intrigue
>“I… what? no! my na-
>I suddenly feel something poking my leg
>I look down to see a young boy tugging at my pants
>he has a steel pot on his head an a fucking M79 grenade launcher tucked under his arm
>“excuse me mister Motor, did you come here to save our village from financial ruin?”
>“…”
>“…”
>“what?!”
>“HE SAID YES!”
>the mob starts cheering and shouting in rhythm
>“MO-TOR-CY-CLE! MO-TOR-CY-CLE! MO-TOR-CY-CLE!”
>they all converge on me and start tapping me in the arms, rubbing my hair and pinching my cheeks
>I look over to see Ablia standing out of the mob
>she’s rubbing her temples with both hands

>the commotion get’s interrupted by a series of gunshots
>we all look over in unison
>a horse gallops away from behind a shack
>a marked man rides on the horse
>he’s looking worse for wear
>scrapes and bloodstains cover his body
>he’s heading towards the dirt road that leads out of the village
>a villager points and shouts at him
>the mob spreads out and as they clear each other, they open fire with their weapons
>like a ragtag musket line but with modern firearms
>it all looks cool and all but HOLY SHIT MY EARS
>I cover them and step back a little
>the hail of bullets peppers the general area where the man and his steed are
>needless to say, the man and his steed succumbed to the righteous fury of the townspeople
>his life flashed before his eyes
>time slowed down around him
>he thought about the love of his life and the son he would leave behind
>so young his mind would form no memory of his father
>naught but a weak feeling of the arms of the parent that would cradle him to sleep every night
>a faded feeling doomed to eventually be forgotten with age
>the man’s body had already given up
>he began to slump and fall
>and as the bullets reached his mount, the horse fell with him
>hitting his head on the ground with enough force to crack his skull
>the inertia of the corpse of his steed was enough to send it rolling over his torso
>crushing his ribcage and organs
>mangling his body during his final moments
>he wondered what he could have done to make it better
>“father was right… this life was gonna lead to my end… and now here I am”
>he thought
>and then he faded
>the shots fell silent as the mob ceased fire
>the dust settled and revealed the untimely demise of the raider
>…
>and then I heard a thump to my left
>less than a second later a fucking explosion turns the used-to-be man and horse into a red and pulpy mist
>I look over to the kid with the M79
>dislodging the spent casing from the action
>“Jesus Christ kid… that was cold”
>“why thank you sir!”

>the crowd lower their weapons and just stare at each other for a bit
>Ablia pats me on the shoulder
>“what an introduction you got”
>“yeah I… yeah, your people seem nice… if a bit misunderstood”
>“yeah it’s hard to teach them English without any native speakers around, but hey, maybe you can help us with that”
>“yeah, maybe, once every few weeks I could come over and give lessons or something”
>“…are you… ok? you seem like something is bothering you”
>“to be perfectly honest, my ears are killing me I can barely understand what you are saying”
>“yeah mee too… but don’t worry, Fridy can help us with that”
>“what she can cure tinnitus?”
>“yeah but… I don’t think you’ll like her method”
>Ablia starts scratching her head and avoiding eye contact
>I raise an eyebrow and before I can ask why, Ablia points behind and says
>“uh, speaking of which…”
>I turn around to see Fridy pushing Mr. Henst on his wheelchair over to us
>“kids! You are ok!”
>Ablia smiles and her tail starts wagging
>I take a deep breath and lean against a wagon
>almost tripping on my own feet on the process
>“hi sir”
>“I was so scared when I saw you come out of that alleyway and start getting shot at”
>Ablia shies back a little
>“well… we were scared for you Mr. Henst so uh… that’s why we tried following you”
>“oh don’t worry about me, I may be only half functional but I can still take care of myself against some lowly thugs”
>Fridy coughs into her hand
>“oh and with the help of Fridely too… speaking of which”
>Fridy takes a step forward and opens her medical bag
>“do any of you need medical attention?”
>Ablia’s tail wagging stops
>“ah well… we both need help with eh… our ears”
>“ok? why weren’t you wearing ear protection?”
>“we… left… in a hurry?”
>“I see… who’s going first?”
>Ablia’s tail puffs
>“ah um… let Anon go first ok?”
>“wait what?”
>Fridy takes out a bottle of the pink healing serum but instead of a brush to apply it with
>she pulls out a long needle
>"uh..."

>about the same length as a knitting needle but thinner and sharper
>it has some knurling near the tip
>“please lay on your side”
>“uh…”
>“come on Anon, there may be more people that need my help”
>Fridy dips the needle in the serum
>it sticks to the knurling like oil on the dipstick of a car
>I reluctantly oblige, exposing her my left ear
>my body starts shaking as Fridy kneels down besides my head
>then I recall to when she used the serum on me for the first time
>it didn’t hurt
>it just felt a little uncomfortable
>ok, that eases my mind a little
>I take a deep breath and close my eyes
>“oh by the way, this is gonna hurt… like a lot”
>“WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?!”
>her monotonous voice tone doesn’t help either
>“because I want you to know what’s coming”
>“WHY?!”
>“because if you flinch, if you move at all, there’s a chance that that may disrupt the regrowth of your tissue, making the problem worse”
>“HUH?!”
>“don’t move, don’t clench your teeth, don’t move your eyelids, don’t do anything and stop. wasting. my. time.”
>ok now I’m scared
>I take another deep breath
>a really big one
>I close my eyes and do my best to stay still
>“do it”
>I whisper softly
>immediately I feel the needle pierce my eardrum and burrow deep
>my nerves scream in agony
>my mind goes into DEFCON fucking 1
>it’s saying “GET THAT SHIT OFF YOU AND START SWINGING MOTHERFUCKER”
>I do my best to not move
>come on Anon
>beat the shit out of tinnitus
>challenge all the EEEEE memes
>come on...
>I feel the needle get lifted
>the pain stops immediately
>that weird feeling I felt on my skin before
>now I feel it all over the left hemisphere of my head
>followed by that pleasant warmth
>ok…
>breath Anon…
>it was painful yes, but it didn’t last long
>Fridy takes out an otoscope and places it on my ear
>“mhmm… yep… it seems like everything is growing fine”
>indeed, my ear feels better, and I can hear much clearer now
>you made it tiger
>you can rest now
>“now turn your head please”
>“wut?”

>“turn your head to the other side”
>“…”
>“I have to do your other ear too…”
>“…”
>“…”
>“ah for fuck’s sake”
>go through that shit again
>this time calmer since I know the pain doesn’t last long
>I stand up and wipe the dirt of my shirt
>Fridy stands up and walks to Ablia
>who is sitting on the ground a few feet away from me
>she’s hugging her knees and rocking back and forth
>she whines and gives Fridy puppy dog eyes
>“you know this is for your own health, right?”
>“augh… fine”
>Fridy cleans the needle with a wet wipe and coats in serum again
>she reaches into her bag and pulls out a wooden tongue depressor
>but instead of using it to depress tongues, she uses it to move Ablia’s inner ear fur out of the way
>Fridy draws the needle but Ablia’s ear flicks to swat it away
>“Ablia…”
>“I’m sorry! I… it’s instinct ok?”
>Fridy continues and pokes Ablia
>her body starts shaking
>but she’s doing her best to not move her head
>Fridy pulls he needle out and coats it again
>and pokes Ablia in the other ear
>this time the pain is enough to draw tears
>Fridy retires the needle and puts it away
>“we’re done, now next remember to use ear pro-
>“DOC!”
>a villager screams out
>the villager continues shouting in uh…
>their local language, as I’ve been calling it
>man, I really need to what this people are speaking
>Fridy stands up and legs it to the man screaming for her
>I look over to Ablia
>she’s rubbing the base of her ears
>she's fine
>I stand up and run after Fridy
>I end up following her to a small gathering of villagers
>they are standing around one of the bandits
>it’s the one Ablia shot in the lower torso
>he’s alive
>well… barely
>he’s bleeding a lot and not moving, not even blinking
>just breathing hardly
>Fridy commands some of the villagers
>a man grabs the banit’s arms and holds them up
>a young woman grabs him by the legs
>the dwarf from before runs off towards the wagons
>he punches the wooden frame that holds the cloth cover up
>what the fuck?

>he then rips the cloth and brings it back with two pieces of frame still attached
>two other villagers extend the piece of wagon and the first two lift the bandit into it
>oh it’s a makeshift cot
>they take the bandit away
>Fridy running behind them
>“If anyone else needs medical attention, send them over to Mr. Henst’s house”
>“sure”
>I yell back
>“so, kid…”
>I look back to see Henst rolling towards me
>“…that was quite the brave push you did there at the end”
>“ah, thank you si-
>“but there’s a very thin line between bravery and blind stupidity… and you almost stepped right over it and face planted on the other side, you just got lucky there weren’t many of ‘em left”
>I save my breath and just nod
>“anyway… how does a mug of mead sound as a celebration to you?”
>...
>“…mister, why do you think the bandits were carrying supplies with them?”
>“huh? Oh yeah”
>“you actually know?”
>“not exactly but it’s a strong hypothesis of mine… sit down son, let me tell you about our little friends of chalk”
>I sit down on the ground besides his wheelchair
>“we’ve been at this little war with this band of troublemakers for years, but recently their attacks have become more frequent, but also more desperate…”
>“don’t tell me… these guys were-
>“…were not as capable as before, I suspect that the bandit’s situation has become dire, so they are rushing less prepared men in desperate charges to steal supplies”
>“how does that explain the food?”
>“they are redistributing it, sending it as aid to their camps with less food whilst pillaging villages that are in the way”
>“…like this one”
>“exactly, that's also why Fridy and the others were quick to make sure that surviving bandit doesn't croak"
>"they are gonna extract information"
>"yes! exactly my boy! and once we figure out where the rascals are hiding... oh we are gonna gather the best men in the area and put and end to their reign of terror"
>"...I think I can help"
>"how so?"
>"oh I'll show you soon"
>hehehe

>Henst just stares at me weirdly
>realize it’s because I subconsciously started to rub my palms together while maniacally cackling silently
>“are you ok boy?”
>“ahem… yes I just got a little exited, it’s… I want to show you something but uh…”
>I look over to the sky
>it seems like it’s late evening
>maybe an hour from sunset
>“…maybe another day”
>“yeah, that sounds good… I don’t want to do anything else for today besides go home and lay down”
>“yeah… I have to go too”
>“before you do, why don’t you do me one last favor for today and push me home?”
>“sure, I was heading that way anyway”
>I stand up and start pushing Henst’s wheelchair to his house
>the walk is silent
>none of us had nothing else to say
>halfway through I get the feeling that I may be forgetting something
>hmm
>I have my pistol and mags with me
>PDA is in my pocket
>so are my keys
>hmmm… I think it was-
>“ANON!”
>oh yeah
>I stop and look back
>Ablia is running behind us
>she catches up and catches her breath
>“Anon!... you… guys le… left me… behind”
>she takes a deep breath and leans on me for support
>“sorry, it’s just that Mr. Henst wanted to get home, isn’t that right M-
>I look back
>Henst is limp on his chair
>not making any noise
>“uh…”
>I take a better look and see that he’s breathing
>“oh ahaha… phew, it’s just the narcolepsy”
>resume the walk after letting Ablia recover fully
>we make small talk on the way
>nothing particularly interesting
>until I ask
>“hey Ablia, this may sound weird but, where exactly are we?”
>“what do you mean?”
>“like… what country is this, I live in a city a little far from here, it’s in a country called Vetrilly and it’s all-
>“you’re still in the same country…”
>“oh… it’s just that…”
>“it doesn’t really look like the same place, does it?”
>“no, and the language sounds similar but not exact either, I thought it was like eastern Europe and how all the Cyrillic languages sounded similar bu-"
>Ablia looks bewildered
>"what?!
>"nevermind"

>“no, tell me”
>“I… nothing, places from my side of the world”
>“hmmm”
>“…”
>“well… you are not entirely wrong either, the city people have been… changed”
>“modernized?”
>“yeah I guess you could say so”
>“…but you don’t think that’s a bad thing, do you?”
>Ablia seems uncomfortable with the question
>she waves her hand around
>“eh it seems to have its ups and downs but I’m not really sure, it’s not like I live in a big city or anything ahaha… eh…”
>“well I spend a lot of time in one and I got no complaints”
>she sighs and drops her shoulders
>“…here we are”
>“right”
>we push Mr. Henst up his garden and into his house
>the first thing we see walking in is Fridy talking to the dwarf from before
>the dwarf is blocking a door and Fridy looks pissed
>she pushes the dwarf out of the way and enters
>immediately, screaming rings out from the room
>as we pass the door, I manage to look inside
>it’s the bandit
>he’s cuffed to a bed and struggling to get free
>the other townsfolk that brought him in are standing around him
>Fridy grabs a thick piece of chain from a stand and folds it in half
>the bandit starts screaming louder
>the dwarf turns around and stares at me as he slowly closes the door
>a few seconds later, I hear meaty THUNK followed by silence
>…ok
>I look forward again and realize that Ablia and Henst have left me behind
>ah shit
>I walk straight forward and find them in what seems to be the kitchen
>and by that I mean there’s an old timey coal stove in the corner, some cupboards and a round table on the center
>there's three plates and three cups already on the table
>there’s a steaming kettle on the stove
>and Ablia is kneeled down fanning the burning coals
>cozy
>I sit down next to a still sleeping Mr. Henst
>Ablia takes the kettle and puts it on the table along with something wrapped in paper
>it smells sweet and homey
>Ablia opens the paper to reveal a small pile of honey glazed biscuits
>Mr. Henst starts to sniff and regains conciousness

>“ah, did I fall asleep again?”
>“yeah…”
>“ah well, at least I got to skip the walk and get straight into the evening snacks”
>he says as he leans forwards and grabs the juiciest biscuit of the pile
>damn I was eyeing that one up
>Ablia hands each one of us a pair of paper filters
>Henst puts them over his cup and pours himself tea
>the filters catching the stray bits of leaves
>I do the same once he sets the kettle down
>as I’m serving myself, Henst asks Ablia
>“what kind of tea is this?”
>Ablia shrugs
>“I just found it in the cupboard”
>“well… guess I just got to find out myself then”
>he takes a gentle sip
>“hmmm… mhmmm… sweet chamomile”
>I hand the kettle over to Ablia and grab a biscuit
>“why don’t you make yourself more comfortable kid?”
>“huh?”
>I look over to Mr. Henst, who is eyeing the AR still slinged around my chest
>“oh sorry”
>I take it off, only to realize the blood on the paracord sling had smeared across my shirt
>and it’s already drying up
>ah god dammit!
>I put the gun on my lap
>propping it on its butt, I take out the magazine and eject the round in the chamber
>I grab the round out of the air and shove it back into the magazine
>I nestle the mag into the well and set it down on the floor
>leaning against the backrest of my chair
>I hope the blood can still be washed off when I get home
>Mr. Henst starts talking about the health benefits of chamomile tea
>and from then, he kept talking
>subtly chaining one subject after another
>Ablia and I just listened quietly
>by the time the sun had gone down, Henst was telling us the story of when he managed to take on a man-eating dire wolf with only a big piece of rope, five dead squirrels and a toothpick
>nothing remained of the biscuits but crumbs and a sticky stain on the paper
>there was no more tea either
>Henst stretches and yawns before finishing his story
>“...and that’s when I knew that big furry fuck had finally kicked it, and that village could go back to sleeping peacefully at night”

>“wow mister, how could you even think of a plan like that?”
>“a quick wit, years of experience, and a lot of luck… however, a masterful hunter should never rely on luck…”
>Ablia’s eyes widen and she becomes visibly uncomfortable
>“…no, this was at a desperate time where I had to work with what I had, a masterful hunter will always plan ahead and make use of the correct tools for every situation”
>he rolls his eyes towards Ablia
>she becomes flustered and covers her eyes
>“aw geez”
>she mutters to herself
>“yeah you thought I had forgotten, didn’t you?”
>“I- no… just that… hmmm”
>“hehe… don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not gonna spill a spiel about it… not with Anon here anyway… no, but I still want you to learn a lesson”
>Ablia takes a deep breath
>“alright”
>“listen, I know having the right tools for the right job is hard when you can’t afford them, so I want you to come over every noon from now on”
>“what? why?”
>“I’ve been gathering weapons and ammo for some years now, I’ll show you how to operate dthe so you can start to get a feel for variety”
>“I… thank you”
>“I also want you to work towards having your own “full tool belt” per se, so I’ll help you get started with that”
>Ablia’s ears shot up
>she is interested and nervous at the same time
>“what does that mean?”
>“look between your legs…”
>uh… what?
>Ablia looks under the table and gasps
>she then looks at Henst with joyful eyes
>“what is it?”
>she leans down and pulls out a fucking AK with a wooden stock around the receiver
>“OH MY GOD!”
>Ablia starts to hyperventilate
>“calm down girl, it’s not a reward”
>Ablia’s face immediately turns to sadness
>“don’t get me wrong either, it’s yours but it’s not because you did something to earn it, consider it more like a compensation to your shortcomings”
>“I-”
>Ablia just hugs the rifle
>she then tugs at my shirt
>"Anon, do you know what this is?"
>"it's a Molot, but I can't tell which model, may I see it?"
>she hands it to me
>yep, Molot SOK-95M in .308

>“it’s a SOK-95 chambered in .308 Winchester”
>“308? But where can I find that?”
>has she never handled anything besides her Henry?
>“don’t worry, it shouldn’t be harder to find than 45-70”
>“oh… ok”
>I hand Ablia her rifle back
>“it’s a pretty nice rifle, where did you get it mister?”
>“it came in a shipment of weapons I won on a poker game against a city slicker”
>“nice”
>I hear footsteps approach
>I look over to the door to see Fridy coming over
>she has a rolled-up piece of paper on her hands
>“the son of a bitch talked...”
>“ah very nice, what did you find out?”
>“he revealed the location of three camps, problem is that they are about two days away and we don’t know if they are even real”
>“I see… it would be a big gamble in resources and time to send a scouting party, only to turn up empty handed”
>“precisely, and time is something we can’t waste”
>I raise an eyebrow and ask
>“why not? what’s the matter?”
>“we don’t have much ammo left, Ablia is the only one who has been able to set trade with big cities and even if she brought a wagon’s full back, that would only last us about a month at this rate”
>“I see… too… b-but don’t worry, I can help”
>this is my time to shine
>“how so?”
>how do I explain a plane in the best way for them to understand?
>“I have a machine, it can take me to the place and scout a huge area safely and faster than anything else you may have”
>there, nailed it
>“you mean your motorcycle? I don’t think you could get there with a full tank of fuel, besides it’s noisy and what if it breaks down?”
>“oh no no no sir… I’m talking about something much much better”
>“what do you have? A plane or something?”
>oh so they do know what planes are
>oops
>“…yes, I just to know roughly where the place is”
>Fridy nods
>she unfurls the big piece of paper to reveal a map of the area
>there’s a marker in white and three red ones
>I recognize harpy city, the beach, and the river near my house
>“great, does anybody here have a protractor?”

>everybody around the table looks at me weirdly
>“I guess that’s a no?”
>a door suddenly gets kicked open
>it’s the door to the room where they had the bandit
>the dwarf comes out sweating
>he hurries over, panting and wheezing
>“did someone say protractor?”
>I slowly and unsurely raise my hand
>“AHAHAHA! Mister Motorcycle, I have what you ask in exactitude and more!”
>the dwarf grabs his coat and lifts it up
>revealing a fanny pack around his waist…
>…and his hairy abdomen
>ew…
>he shoves his hand into the pack and digs around for a few seconds
>“AHA!”
>he exclaims as he pulls out a protractor and a pencil
>“here you go buddy”
>I hesitantly grab the tools with the tip of my fingers
>they feel greasy
>oh god
>“ah hold on”
>he digs through again and pulls out a whole ass meterstick out of the pack along with a chicken drumstick
>holy shit
>“ah so there’s where mah meal went earlier this the week”
>he passes me the meter and then chomps on the chicken
>…
>ok…
>I pull out my PDA and open my map
>I use my current location on the map and the mouth of the river to triangulate the position of my house on the paper map
>then using the same method, I triangulate the position of the bandit camps from the paper map and put them into my PDA
>“there! I’ll come back tomorrow to tell you if these exist or not”
>“very good Anon, in the meantime, we’ll be making sure these locations don’t overlap with any of the other friendly villages nearby”
>“right, just because they exist doesn’t mean I should bom-uh I mean I should assume they are bandits”
>“right…”
>I look out of the window to see the last sunrays fade out
>“then I guess I’ll be going then, thank you for having me Mr. Henst”
>I get up and sling over my new AR as I walk around the table and shake Henst’s hand
>Ablia stands up and slings over her Henry on her back
>“I’ll be going home too"”
>she says as she grabs her new Vepr
>we say goodbye to everyone and head out
>the breeze of the night already blowing strong

>we walk around the fence and get back to Ablia’s place
>she puts both her rifles on her bed
>I stand by the door
>making sure I have everything with me
>Ablia yaws
>flattening her ears and puffing her tail
>she walks me out to my bike
>“thanks for helping us out today Anon”
>“don’t worry about it, it’s just neighborly assistance”
>“well I’m glad you could assist us in so many ways”
>“thanks… I’ll be back tomorrow evening ok?”
>“yep”
>“ok… see you the-
>Ablia wraps her arms around me for a hug
>I freeze immediately
>come on!
>not now you retard!
>I manage to look down to see Ablia nuzzling my chest
>her tail wagging rapidly
>I snap out of my autism and return the hug
>“see you tomorrow”
>“yeah”
>Ablia breaks the hug and steps back a little
>I sit on my bike and put my helmet on
>kickstart the motor and slowly drive away
>the people still out on the streets wave me goodbye
>I return the valediction
>near the exit to the road I turn on the headlight
>there are people still cleaning the mess from earlier
>breaking the wagons apart and using the wood to fix their own houses and businesses
>the corpses have been taken away along with any loot they had
>the kid with the M79 waves at me
>but in a way that tells me to get closer
>I deviate and stop right beside him
>“Mr. motorcycle! I have something for you”
>“yeah? what is it kid?”
>“close your eyes and open your hand”
>I do as told
>I feel the kid put something rather bulky on my hand
>“ok, open your eyes”
>the kid has given me a spent casing of a 40mm grenade
>“is so that you can remember the first time you came here with us!”
>I smile and put it in a saddle bag
>"thanks kid"
>"I hope to see you again soon Mr. Motor"
>I chuckle a little
>"my name is Anon"
>"Ahnon? then who is Motorcycle?"
>I pat the tank of my bike
>"this is motorcycle"
>"so there was confusion?"
>"yeah, go tell your friends and family about it"
>the kid smiles from ear to ear and runs off
>bye kid...
>I'll be back soon

>I start up my bike again and ride out of town
>it takes me a bit longer than usual but I manage
>didn’t even have to use my map this time
>the first time I did once I arrived was store the bike away and turn the lights on
>I then immediately grab a bucket, my new rubber hose, and a bottle of detergent to clean the drying blood on my shirt
>take my shirt off and throw it into the bucked before dripping some soap over it and then covering it with water
>it’s already getting pretty dark but fortunately for me, the mosquitos aren’t out yet
>I grab the shirt and put some elbow grease into rubbing the stains away because I’m a retard who forgot to bring a scrubbing board
>after a solid 7 minutes of rubbing, rinsing, and changing the water in the bucket over and over again, my shirt finally comes out decent
>not super bright untouched colors but presentable
>and that’s good enough because who am I trying to impress out here?
>I squeeze the water out of my shirt before throwing it over my shoulder
>kick the bucket over to empty out the homeopathic mixture of blood and soap
>as I grab the AR-15 and look at its bloodied sling I think “aw fuck I should wash this too”
>but before I can turn the hose open again, I notice the distinct sound of big wings flapping in the distance
>and I think they are coming this way…
>do these retards never learn?
>I swear they better have a good excuse to be snooping around or…
>the…
>t-the flapping stopped…
>did they leave?
>no…
>I can feel it…
>I hear the sound of a pair of talons landing a few feet behind me
>immediately turn around and aim at the intruder
>the shadowy figure raises its arms up
>a few feathers fall off and get scattered by the wind
>I fucking knew it
>“woaw there kid…”
>wait…
>…what?
>that’s definitely a harpy
>but it’s bigger and it sounds like a man
>the harpy steps forward into the light
>it's a male harpy
>he looks like a mean motherfucker

>I’m surprised at first, but I don’t take my aim off him
>I’ve heard that male harpies are incredibly rare in the wild but are more common in where harpies gather
>and that clothing
>he’s wearing a pair of jeans cut down below the knee and a weathered Luftwaffe flight jacket with the sleeves ripped off
>he most definitely come from the city
>“who are you? what do you want?”
>“calm down buddy, I’m taking my family inland for some business and I just wanted to check on something”
>“there’s nothing here for you…”
>“no need to get defensive kid, I just wanted to know if it was true that the old man kicked the bucket”
>what?!
>I lose focus and accidentally lower my rifle
>“y-you knew him?”
>“personally no, but he was the cause of several headaches and arguments so when I heard the news I thought the least I could do is come check for myself”
>“who… who told you?”
>“eh, some owl bitch that was looking for trouble with my daughter”
>I whisper under my breath
>“Iyame…”
>“what?”
>“nothing”
>“hm… well, where’s the old man?”
>“over there…”
>I tilt my head in the direction of the grave
>the harpy walks around me and takes a good look at the grave
>and now that I realize
>Jeremy’s grave is a bit in a state of disrepair
>the wooden cross is rotting off
>the stones have fallen over
>his dog tags are getting rusty around the edges
>I really need to get him a proper headstone
>the harpy turns to me
>“what was his name?”
>“Jeremy… Jeremy Basker”
>“hmmm… and yours?”
>“Anon”
>he sighs in a disappointed manner
>“right…”
>the harpy nods and keeps looking at the grave for a few seconds
>a sudden thud calls my attention
>it sounds like it came from above me
>the male harpy turns towards the sound too
>I look up to see the shadowy silhouette of another harpy sitting on the edge of the roof
>this one looks more normal
>definitely a female

>“hey papa, mamma is getting so tired of waiting she threatened to personally coming over to pluck your tail feathers out”
>“don’t worry sweetheart, tell her I’m pretty much done here”
>“okay”
>the other harpy jumps and flies off
>the male harpy stands up and scratches the back of his head
>“you are a lucky guy Anon, try not to crash that plane…”
>I remain silent
>I don’t really know how to feel towards this guy
>he’s not directly hostile but his presence doesn’t feel friendly either
>he readies to take off but turns to me as if he just remembered something
>“hey, if you do crash one day… at least try doing it near harpy city, ok? we are trying to get this old warship seaworthy and we need all the scrap we can get”
>and with that, he lifts off and fades into the dark sky
>I... I think I just need to rest
>today’s been a weird day
>so I just end up rinsing the blood of the sling before locking myself inside
>lie down with the fan turned on to max so it dries my shirt
>drift off to sleep
>It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow
>…
>wake up naturally
>fuck
>I had actually planned to set up an alarm and forgot
>forgot to charge my phone too
>doesn’t matter
>it’s about a quarter past 7
>I still got time
>dig around my backpack and pull out my breakfast
>two cold cherry poptarts and one of those small milk cartons for kids
>the poptart’s sweetness is overwhelmed by the blandness of the bread
>and the milk tastes like foggy water
>I should have brought better rations than whatever I could find in the discount isle
>finish my depressing meal
>meditate while I change into my flight suit
>what’s the checklist for today Anon?
>-scout the possible bandit encampments
>-go back to the Balthazar airfield to buy ordinance to bomb the bandits
>-relay the information back to Henst
>-bomb the bandits (not necessarily today but soon enough)
>perfect
>it shouldn't be too hard
>I just hope I can afford enough bombs for this

>walk out with G suit in hand
>phone and PDA in my pockets
>I open the colossal hangar doors and grab my helmet from the handlebars of my bike
>as I admire the marvelous machine before me I realize
>“I should probably top the fuel on this thing”
>and so I did
>I spent 20 minutes wrangling with the hoses even though I think I had more than enough in the tanks already
>you can’t never be too sure
>get everything ready and climb inside
>I always get giddy whenever I’m in here
>especially today since I may get to drop a bomb on something
>but just as I flick the battery switches on and turn on the cockpit lights, I hear a familiar voice
>“Anon! are you here? hello?”
>I stand up and see Ablia standing at the entrance
>“Ablia!”
>she looks around confused
>“hey over here!”
>I shout as I wave my hand up
>she homes in on my voice and looks up at me
>“oh hey!”
>I climb down and relieve the straps of my G suit a little
>“hey what is that? and why are you dressed like that?”
>“oh that’s a plane… my plane, and this suit helps me pilot it better”
>she looks over amazed
>her tail starts wagging
>“ooh plane! Mr. Henst has told me about these, that you modern people use them to travel faster and further than anything else on the world… though I thought they were a bit smaller”
>“oh believe me they can get bigger”
>“can I ride it?”
>“sorry no, it’s a one-seater”
>“aw…”
>Ablia’s ears droop in disappointment
>“well anyway, what brings you here? I was just about to go scout the bandit camps”
>“oh yeah I uh, I came over because you marked your home on one of our maps and I wanted to check up on you”
>“that’s really nice of you but to be honest, this isn’t the best of times”
>“yeah… I noticed”
>“I still appreciate it though”
>“thanks… oh and I also brought you this"
>she pulls out a small parcel from behind her back
>smells sweet
>“I don't know if you've had breakfast yet"

>“what is it?”
>“it’s an apple and milk roll”
>“oh well, thanks”
>Ablia spreads her arms out and leans into a little hug
>“see you later Anon”
>“see ya”
>Ablia walks out
>I stand at the gates of the hangar and see Ablia untie one of her horses from water spout
>she gets on her horse and rides off
>I take one last look at the forest around the strip before returning inside
>hop back into the cockpit with the wrapped bread roll on my hand
>uh…
>oh I know
>I’ll eat it later
>I’ll just put it in the net behind my seat in the meantime
>now…
>…let’s fly off
>get everything ready
>electronics are working fine
>control surfaces are aligned
>APU is starting
>canopy is closing
>fire up the engines
>roll out of the hangar
>click the button and wait for the gargantuan gates to close
>unfold the wings and lock them in place
>I take a nice long breath as I look around the strip
>push the power to max and hear the engines
truly wake up
>start accelerating
>the entire cockpit is shaking because I’m rolling on fucking grass
>but the landing gear is girthy
>it can take it
>when the jet finally reaches optimal speed, I pull gently on the stick
>and realize that the jet is not getting up as quickly as it should
>huh!
>what?!
>oh…
>I FORGOT TO PULL THE FUCKING FLAPS DOWN
>SHIT
>FUCK
>I look forward to see the tree line rapidly approaching
>COME ON
>GET UP YOU FAT BASTARD
>I pull on the stick as hard as I can
>it does very little considering the plane is fly by wire and my physical input makes no difference
>but the moment I finally feel the landing gear peel of the ground, I pull those things up and pray
>the entire plane shakes as it doesn't have enough energy to pull the nose up that much
>finally get up just enough to clear the treetops
>and just in time too
>I wouldn't be surprised if the forest caught fire from my exhaust
>lean back on the seat breathing heavily
>I think I pissed myself a little

>hold on let me check
>huh…
>nope, it’s just concentrated crotch sweat…
>…
>anyway, I finally managed to stabilize the plane
>and now I can continue flying normally
>I pitch up and climb until I reach about 10,000 feet of altitude
>not my cruising altitude but I really need to be able to see the places I’m about to scout
>…still may be a bit too high though…
>in any case, that can be easily corrected
>so I take out my PDA from one of my pockets and open up the map
>I’m a bit off course to the closest possible location so I correct that
>and now, I set my attitude hold and wait
>watching closely that nothing like a malfunctioning computer or a sparrow’s fart pushes me off course
>when I feel like I’m getting close I pull out my PDA again and realize that I’m pretty much over the spot
>I look out of the canopy to see nothing but lush forest
>probably because I don’t have a good angle
>so I fly off a bit and loop around
>this time a bit offset and banking slightly to avoid flying directly over the place again
>I look down and spot a small cluster of buildings
>Ablia’s village had trees surrounding it but none actually on the inner streets or in between buildings
>this place seems to be just a bunch of shacks strung together in the middle of the forest
>well they did tell me that bandits steal most of their food and there’s no sign of crops growing here so I’m noting it down as possible bandit camp
>I level out and head towards the next spot
>fuel levels are still very good
>on the way to the next location I notice the fact that the density of trees below was increasing
>when I got to the next possible camp the trees were so packed together that I concluded that it was impossible to traverse such a place through any land-based methods
>I looked around just in case and saw nothing but treetops
>cross this one off the list as ‘highly improbable’
>this whole area looks like an anomaly of nature
>maybe I should come back here later and investigate further

>there may be something interesting around
>I mark it on my map and move on to the next area
>the trees return to normal as I move away
>except this time they become more and more sparce as I approach a big plain field
>right away I spot a neat village surrounded by fields for crops
>some seem empty from up here and others are filled with golden wheat
>ok, definitely a populated place but these guys don’t seem like bandits
>they are growing their own food and stuff
>I cross it out from the list and note “populates village, source of bandit activity is unlikely”
>well, that’s about it
>gonna go back to civilization to buy bombs and refuel
>I input the TACAN code for the airfield and head onwards to it
>climb up and lean back as I leave the plane to cruise by itself
>I put some music on and lose myself staring out to the sky
>I’m eventually dragged back to reality when a deep raspy voice comes over the radio
>it’s distorted and unintelligible
>odd…
>it freaks me out at first
>until I realize it’s probably some low budget radio station with shitty reception
>look around to get an idea of where I am
>the city is just on the horizon
>almost there…
>I change my frequency to the tower of the airfield and wait for a response
>nothing happens until I’m pretty much right over the airfield that I hear something
>“hey Anon, can you hear me?”
>fuck what was this guy’s name?
>wait…
>did he ever told me his name?
>I open my mic
>“yeah what’s up? can I land?”
>“yeah dude just make it quick, we have a couple of C-130’s on the way”
>“aight”
>I loop around, descending and trying to reduce my speed at the same time
>end up having a bit of a hard landing on the diagonal runway
>“solid landing Anon, get to the end of the runway and wait for towing”
>“hey tower”
>“yeah?”
>“why are runways labelled weirdly here?”
>“huh?”
>“you know how runways are numbered by their heading minus the last digit? why isn’t it like that here?”
>“oh yeah that, it's Balthazar's proprietary system”

>“proprietary system?”
>“since there are no solid international standards set in this world yet, they are free to do whatever…”
>I get to the taxiway and shut off my engines
>“that’s… odd… care to explain it?”
>“nah, I don’t know if I’m allowed to but that doesn’t matter, it’s retarded and unnecessary and you can use the runways and taxiways perfectly anyway”
>“…”
>“take your parking brakes off, the tow is here”
>“right…”
>“have a good day Anon”
>“you too tower…”
>“shit, wait Anon, I just remembered there was some people looking for you”
>oh for fuck’s sake
>what now?
>“why exactly?”
>“I don’t know, I think they had a proposal for you or something like that, I’ll tell them you are here”
>“ok…?”
>“that's it, see ya dude”
>“bye dude”
>I cut the radio and pop open the canopy as the tow crew hooks up my plane and takes me to my hangar
>I still think it’s a bit odd that they don’t let me taxi myself
>the company’s planes taxi around normally
>so I guess they just don’t trust hired wings like me?
>…
>uh…
>what’s that smell?
>I look around and reach behind my seat where my hand bumps into something wet and sticky
>ew what the fuck is this?
>…
>it… smells sweet…?
>oh…
>it’s the pastry Ablia gave me…
>hmmm…
>…
>mmm…
>mhmmm…
>…
>tch…
>it went soggy but it’s still good
>it’s filled with apple sauce and sweet condensed milk
>the crust is smooth and flakey
>tastes homely
>it instantly brightens my mood
>I crumple the paper and jump out of the cockpit as my plane gets pushed into its hangar
>sliding off the left wing, I land on the floor where a member of the tow crew meets me
>a guy around my age wearing a green jumpsuit and holding a clipboard
>“good morning sir”
>“morning still?”
>“yes sir, it’s 11:13 o’clock”
>“well good morning then”
>“a group of researchers from R&D wanted to talk to you sir”
>R&D?
>what could they want from me?
>oh no…
>they must have realized I stole that permacold crystal for my liquor stash
>shit
>fuck
>hmm…
>maybe I can bribe them off my ass

>“here they come sir”
>“what?!”
>a shuttle stops by and drops off three men in front of my hangar
>an important looking one wearing a suit, one behind him wearing a lab coat and the one at the very back is wearing oil stained overalls
>oh shit
>act natural
>wait
>are these the guys that tower told me about?
>I guess that makes sense
>the suited one comes forth
>“good morning mister Anon”
>ok Anon
>you got this
>professional speech pattern activated
>“good morning, are you perhaps gentlemen from research and development that I was informed were seeking to make a proposal with me?”
>“yes we are and it’s a pleasure sir, my name is Ferdinand Sinel, my fellow in the lab coat is Jordan Maelch and that guy that smells like petrol is Screws”
>“HI~”
>says the man in the overalls
>I awkwardly wave at him
>“now, mister Anon, we’ve come to you because we need a test pilot for one of our biggest developments of the year”
>“you are not gonna strap anything weird to my jet, are you?”
>“oh no no no sir, you are gonna be flying a completely different aircraft, you see… I am the director of one of our newest projects called the ‘Affordable Light Multirole’ ALM for short, and we need someone with basic understanding of flight to pilot our first testbed vehicle”
>“I am intrigued, however I feel the need to ask, why was I chosen?”
>“well… you see mister Anon, all of the company’s pilots are busy for the week, we tried to convince Hermann to be our test pilot but he refused due to reasons he did not want to discuss with us”
>“what about Dany and Rodrick?”
>“well uh… you see…”
>the man in the lab coat answers
>“we don’t trust them to not screw this up… in a costly manner…”
>“fair enough, I am willing to take part, however, I will not be available for today as I am busy with my own affairs”
>“that’s ok, though we would be pleased if you’d be able to familiarize yourself with the testbed vehicle today”
>I grab my chin and ponder
>“hmmm…”
>agh… I'm already on a tight schedule

>“don’t worry mister Anon, it won’t take longer than 15 minutes”
>“well, if you say so…”
>“excellent mister Anon, your time will be well compensated… Jordan, please call a shuttle”
>“right on sir”
>the lab coat guy pulls a phone out of his back pocket and taps on the screen once
>“shuttle is on its way sir”
>“perfect, now mister Anon, could you please follow us?”
>“I… sure…”
>“very well then, we should… uh… where is Screws?”
>we all look around
>even the ground service guys
>then from inside my jet come muffled
>“yoooo these engines dope as fuck!”
>we all simultaneously turned to the source
>realizing there’s a pair of running shoes sticking out of the left engine intake
>“Screws!”
>two of the ground service personnel run over and pull him out
>“duuuude these are 100% not stock”
>“oh my god… listen mister Anon, I’m deeply sorry for the actions of my colleague”
>“no don’t worry, just as long as he isn’t in there when the engines startup”
>“my god man, what did you do to those blowers?”
>“ah… um… well it’s a long list that I can’t quite remember now”
>“yo Ferdy, we gotta analyze this shit later man, there’s a treasure inside that plane man”
>everybody in the hangar looks uncomfortable
>“um… I’m not sure about that, we would have to consult with mister Anon”
>“I uh… well you see…”
>my poor excuse to keep anyone besides ground crew from touching my plane gets interrupted by a loud honking outside
>“shuttle is here sir”
>informs the man in the lab coat
>“ah yes… the shuttle, let’s go… to the shuttle”
>“r-right”
>we all go outside
>ground crew finish their duties and leave at the same time
>once everybody’s out, I close the hangar
>then I get on the shuttle and find myself pleasantly surprised to see our driver is the schizo dude
>the first shuttle drive I ever met here
>and he’s downing his pills
>just as I half remembered him
>“hey hey it’s Anon”
>“hi… you”
>“oh man oh man I haven’t seen you a while man”
>“yeah, good to see you too uh…”
>“Helmich”
>“right”

>Ferdinand and the other guys hop on the seat row behind us
>“ah, mister Anon, I see you’ve met mister Pasmo before”
>“Pasmo?”
>“yup, my seco-uh third name! Helmich S. Pasmo”
>“what’s the S. stand for”
>“SSSSSSSSullivan…”
>“oh”
>“so-so where are we going eh bosse?”
>“to hangar Z”
>hangar Z?
>“got it”
>everybody holds onto something as Pasmo turns the ignition of the shuttle
>“uh… I’ve never heard of hangar Z bEEEEEEEEEEEH!”
>the shuttle rockets the fuck out of the hangar lot
>before I know it we are halfway across the airfield and arriving to the backside of the R&D building
>where a giant iron gate stands closed
>uh…
>I this place is not exactly how I remember it
>the tires screech and smoke as we come to a halt a few feet away from crashing into the iron wall
>I’m pretty sure the entire shuttle did a stoppie but I couldn’t tell because my vision turned red due to the blood being slingshotted into my head
>damn these shuttles have some nice brakes
>“so what where you saying Anon?”
>it takes me a few seconds to regain consciousness before reacting
>I look back to see everyone redoing their hairdo and wiping dust and splattered insects off their faces
>“huh? oh! I was saying that I’ve never heard of hangar Z before”
>“yeah well you are looking at it right now”
>says Screws as he points at the ‘‘‘hangar’’’ door
>“wasn’t this a loading bay like a week ago?”
>“yes… we changed it yesterday”
>“oh”
>“that’s… that’s why you never heard of it before”
>“oh…”
>“…”
>“anyway, thanks for bringing us Pasmo”
>“any day bosse”
>we all get out
>Pasmo reverses at mach 2 and disappears into the horizon
>“now mister Anon, say hi to the next step in affordable aviation!”
>I hear a horrible metallic screeching behind me
>I turn around to see the hangar door opening slowly
>sparking as it scrapes the concrete floor
>it’s not even a third of the way open when the door gets stuck
>a gray plume of smoke coming from inside of the hangar
>“that’s not supposed to happen”
>“uh…”

>Ferdinand start struggling with a remote control similar to the one I use for my hangar back home
>he’s clicking the button repeatedly
>“god damned piece of shit… SCREWS!”
>“what”
>“do something god dammit! you are the one that installed this god-awful door!”
>“hey I told you installing it in just one day would require some compromises”
>“so?”
>“so you got your door in one day in exchange of having it be shit”
>“god dammit why is everything in this word concessions?”
>“because god intended it that way, we can’t have everythi-
>“shut up and help me fix this piece of scrap!”
>Ferdinand and Screws start pushing the door
>unsurprisingly the door does not move at all
>because it’s a giant slab of iron
>I turn to the lab coat guy
>what was his name?
>Jordy?
>Jordan?
>yeah it was Jordan
>I turn to Jordan and ask
>“are they usually like this?”
>“this is the first project where they have interacted this much”
>“oh”
>Ferdinand and Screws have reduced their efforts from pushing to just repeatedly kicking the door
>until by coincidence the door control motors start up again and finish opening
>Ferdinand then points inside the makeshift hangar
>pausing for breath in between each word
>“BEHOLD… the… the evolution of… avi… aviation…”
>the inner lights come up revealing something quite interesting inside
>that beast of a radial engine that leads into acircular fuselage
>those gull wings
>that shinny bare aluminium…
>that… uh…
>is that… the tail of a mustang?
>wait…
>why are the edges of the wings clipped like that?
>what the hell is this thing?
>it's a (mostly) F4U corsair with some pretty heavy modifications
>god it looks like a kid got ahold of his dad's scale models and kitbashed a bunch of WWII american aircraft
>the tail and rudder is crearly inspired by a late war mustang but it's not an exact copy
>the elevators are from an F4F wildcat
>the canopy lacks that iconic bulge real corsairs have
>did they seriously grab and botch such a beatiful aircraft for this?

>I walk forward amazed, confused, and disgusted towards this Frankenstein of a plane
>what in the worlds…
>“like it? well don’t get too attached because it’s in no way representative of the final product”
>“what the hell is this thing exactly?”
>“it’s our first testbed vehicle Anon, I already told you that”
>I walk around the plane
>then climb on top of the wing to look into the cockpit
>oh my fucking god…
>it’s literally a cheapo Chinese gaming chair welded into a steel sheet tub with a literal aluminum tube for a stick
>the throttle control is also a piece of tubing sticking out of the wall
>there’s a fucking walkie talkie duct taped to the side of the chair
>there’s not even proper instrumentation here
>just an attitude indicator and a fuel gauge
>“holy fucking shit…”
>“uh… I know it may not look promising but believe me mister Anon, we will continue working on it to make it better and better, we just need you to help us out extracting some flight performance data, that’s all”
>“what are you testing with this plane? how much you can take off before it just not flies anymore?”
>“look I know it’s pretty simple looking but believe me, it’s a capable flyer”
>“how do you know? I thought you said you didn’t have any test pilots”
>“um uh… well in theory it should be a great flyer”
>I go limp
>slamming my back on the fuselage and then sliding down onto the floor
>“I can’t believe a corsair died for this…”
>“oh don’t be silly mister Anon, we would never tamper with historical pieces”
>“what?”
>“it’s not an real corsair, it’s a kit plane we bought off some sketchy site on the internet”
>“what about the engine?”
>“that one we made ourselves based on a real R-2800”
>“isn’t that like copyright infringement? patent infringement?”
>“don’t worry, Vought went out of business long ago”
>“1) I’m not sure that’s how copyright works and 2) the engine was made by Pratt & Whitney who are still very much around”
>“look, just… just don’t tell anyone ok?”

>I take a deep breath and slam my head against the fuselage again
>“ok”
>well it’s a bit comforting knowing no actual corsairs were hurt during the making of this thing
>“so, when do you think you’ll be able to take it for a ride?”
>“fuck it, tomorrow at noon”
>“perfect”
>“can I leave now?”
>“but you just walked around it and then looked at the cockpit”
>“yeah isn’t that enough familiarization?”
>“well…”
>“well seeing the current state of this aircraft, I personally consider that a deep dive”
>“could… could you at least sit on the cockpit for a bit?”
>“…fine”
>I get up
>walk on top of the wing
>climb inside and sit on the thing
>then I grab the canopy and slide it close
>…
>it’s fucking shit…
>…
>well the chair is rather lax on my lumbar but besides that I’m sitting on a hot metal box with fuck all to do
>hey wait a minute…
>what the fuck?
>where are the rudder pedals?
>I open the canopy and shout
>“hey where the hell are my rudder controls?”
>“uh… Screws?”
>I look over to Screws who is sitting on a toolbox and eating a sandwich
>“you turn the rudder by twisting the stick around”
>I raise an eyebrow before grabbing the stick and moving it around
>all the control surfaces move in a very janky way
>and indeed, the rudder pivots whenever I twist the stick around
>because if of course…
>ok
>I’m done here
>I jump out and…
>fuck what do I do now?
>“so…”
>“I don’t know man, we’ll see tomorrow”
>“very well then”
>“aight, goodbye Ferdinand, bye Screws, bye lab coa-Jason”
>“it’s Jordan… and you dropped your professionali-
>“yeah sure sure can you call me a ride please?”
>Jordan sighs as he pulls out his phone and calls a shuttle over
>the shuttle arrives almost instantly, this time driven by a man I don’t know
>“see ya guys please try and make that shit into something decent by then goodbye”
>I get on and we leave
>“so we are you going kid”
>for fuck's sakes
>back at it again with fucking 'kid'
>“aviation building, door by storage"
>“got it, sit back son"
>sigh

>“here we are”
>“thanks man”
>I hop out of the shuttle and enter the building
>the armory should be around here somewhere
>ah there it is
>the inconspicuous looking stands by the wall
>manned by a woman that looks bored out of her mind
>just staring conciouslessly into her computer
>I approach, my mind set on what I’m getting
>just a couple of small bombs
>nothing more
>nothing less
>“good morning”
>“what do you want?”
>charming…
>she acts just like the rest of the desk workers on this place
>“I’m interested in buying some ordinance”
>“cool, here’s our catalog”
>she reaches under her desk and pulls out a small booklet
>“you can sit over there if you want to read it thoroughly”
>she points at a couple of chairs next to the stand
>“oh… thanks”
>“mhmm”
>I sit down and have a look through the index
>I mutter to myself
>“hmmm bombs… bombs where are they at?”
>missiles? no, not yet at least…
>targeting pods? Could be helpful in the future… oh nevermind it says here that they are only for rent…
>rocket pods? tempting but I’m not sure they are a good investment…
>ah here we go
>bombs, page 5
>I flip to page 5 and get a delightful display of explosive diversity
>it's the biggest section of the booklet
>there’s all kinds of bombs here
>normal bombs, laser guided bombs, GPS guided JSOWs…
>ma-magic bombs…?
>…
>ok…
>all these fancy ones look expensive though
>maybe…
>ah!
>here we go!
>the Balthazar series US 500-pound dumb bomb
>based on the American GP Mk 82
>unit cost of $3,500
>these are perfect!
>I stand up and show the lady the bombs I want
>“how many of these can I get?”
>she takes a deep breath and scrolls through her computer
>“we have 37 for sale”
>“hmmm… I'll take 6”
>“would you like some racks for them?”
>“can I buy them too?”
>“no sorry, we only have renting units lefts”
>“aw, I'll only take the bombs for now then”
>“that would be $21,000 + service fees”
>“service fees?”
>“I mean, unless you want to transport them yourself…”
>“fair enough”

>“please give me your Balthazar card”
>“here you go”
>“right… transaction is done, your ordinance should arrive in two workdays”
>“two… workdays?”
>“yeah… what you think we sold high explosives just like that?”
>“well…”
>“the transaction may be done but the delivery still needs approval… plus the time organizing the inventory and the delivery vehicles”
>“what if my delivery gets rejected?”
>“you get your money back”
>“oh… well uh… thanks?”
>“yeah”
>she goes back to her computer
>and so, I leave
>I could go back home now but…
>nah…
>let’s go back home
>I exit the building
>wait for a shuttle and head back to my hangar
>when we get there, I see the tow pushing the loud brother’s MiG-29 into its hangar
>the canopy is open
>Dany and Rodrick are nowhere to be seen
>I approach the ground dudes and ask
>“hey, where are the pilots?”
>“the rowdy guys? they jumped off mid tow and headed towards the chow hall”
>“ah”
>“why? what you needed?”
>“oh nothing I just wanted to chat with them”
>“alright we’ll tel-
>“nah don’t worry about it, it wasn’t important, and I am leaving soon anyway”
>“as you wish sir”
>I open my hangar up and call tower to tell him I’m about to leave
>now that I think about it, I never saw Hermann either
>hmmm…
>well it’s not like I stayed for long
>hell, I think I was here for less than an hour
>doesn’t matter
>I start up my engines and go
>the ground in the hangar in front of me clear the way when they hear my engines
>they start waving at me
>I smile and wave back
>they wave harder
>uh…
>ok…
>I’m halfway to the runway when the radio comes up
>“ANON WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”
>“what?”
>“WHY DIDN’T YOU WAIT FOR THE TOW?!”
>“OH SHIT!”

>“god dammit Anon!”
>“ok listen, in my defense… why is the tow system even a thing? it’s retarded”
>“just idle your fucking engines and wait for the tow”
>“look ma-
>“I know it’s a fucking retarded system, but we have to follow it less you want the suits to shove their fists up your ass… I’m sorry Anon, I’m gonna have to fine you for it or I’ll get in trouble”
>“come on dude, can’t you let this one pass?”
>“I would if it wasn’t for the fact that AN ENTIRE GROUND TEAM FUCKING SAW YOU!”
>“oh that’s what they were waving at me for…”
>“$5,000 have been subtracted from your account, further violations of airfield code will double the previous amount fined”
>“fuck…”
>“hey look I’m sorry but if I can say something to make you feel better, the MiG guys have payed around 200k in fines since the start of the year”
>“oh…”
>“anyway, just wait for the tow, get up as soon as you can yadda yadda see ya Anon”
>“see ya”
>the tow finally comes and takes me to the runway
>I can actually see the driver laughing as he pulls me from the middle of the taxiway
>fucker
>he leaves me at the end of a runway and speeds off
>I make sure to pull down my flaps this time
>then I push the throttle to the max
>taking off
>my tensions melt away as my jet effortlessly carries me back home
>it’s one of the routes I take the least, but it still feels like I could do it asleep
>though I stay vigilant
>I don’t want to forget the flaps again and end up slamming against the ground or going nosecone first into the tree line at the end of my runway and setting fire to the forest
>end up landing back with no trouble
>locking my wings up and slowly rolling into my hangar
>closing the giant gates behind me
>pop the canopy up and slide down a wing as the engines slowly come to a stop
>the realignment thingamabob does its glowy glowy shit and turns my jet around as I squeeze myself out of my flight suit
>I’m speedrunning this shit
>even though I still have plenty of time left

>I get on some normal clothes and jump into my bike
>thread the hangar gates as they open
>immediately click the button and close them off as I speed my way to the village
>almost crashed against a tree several time on the way
>but manage to get to the dirt path
>it’s a straight shot to the left from there
>slow down as I reach the entrance to the village
>the people start waving at me
>I wave back as I ride on through
>I even see the kid that gave me a 40mm shell yesterday
>still wearing a pot on his head
>“Anon guy!”
>“told you I’d be back soon”
>I don’t stop for formalities, so I just shoot him a quick wave just like everyone else
>I arrive at the other end of the village and park outside of Henst’s house
>the lights are on
>great, that means they must here
>because who the fuck leaves candles unattended?
>I jump over the fence and march into the front porch
>the door slams open just as I’m about to knock
>Fridy is behind the door
>she doesn’t say a thing
>she just stares at me
>“uh… hi”
>“hello”
>“uh…”
>“…”
>“I have the- I investigated the… the bandit places and uh I uh…”
>“come in please”
>“ah, thanks and uh… where’s mister Henst?”
>“he’s out training Ablia on how to use the rifle he gave her”
>“ah”
>Fridy moves out of the way and lets me pass into the living room
>there’s a steaming cup of tea on the table next to an open book written in the local language
>“please take I seat and tell me as much as you can recall of your scouting”
>I sit on one of the sofas and take out my notes
>“well, I-
>“hold on, let me make things easier for you”
>Fridy reaches behind one of the living room sofas and pulls out a big rolled up piece of paper
>I immediately recognize it as one of the maps from yesterday
>Fridy unfurls the map and stretches it over the coffee table
>“please proceed”
>“ah yes… uh… this closest spot here is uh hold on…”
>read through my notes because I’m a retard who can’t remember what he did this very morning

>“um… ah yes, it’s says possible bandit location”
>“how so?”
>“what do you mean?”
>“what do YOU mean by possible? is it a bandit camp or not?”
>“uh… well… um, if I remember correctly uh-
>I look up to see Fridy with her arms and legs crossed raising an eyebrow
>I'd find that suggestive from any other women but Fridy's seeming lack of a soul or ability to show any complex emotion makes her every action a bit freaky
>“uh… I mean I am completely certain…”
>she uncrosses her arms and nods
>“…I am completely certain that I saw a bunch of abandoned buildings”
>“that’s it?”
>“well… there may-
>she raises her eyebrow again
>“I mean yes, I saw a bunch of small buildings in state of disrepair, I don’t believe anyone actually lives there”
>“but you said possible…”
>“uh… well… um… by that I meant tha-
>“I understand, it’s not likely but it’s not out of the question either”
>“yes”
>Fridy takes a sip of her tea and clears her throat
>“continue”
>“ah, yes… the next um… hold on, I can’t understand my own handwriting sometimes… ah, yes, the second one is highly unlikely”
>“why?”
>her slightly agressive tone sends shivers down my spine
>“b-because it was inside this gnarly looking place with a bunch of trees stuck together”
>“I know what you are talking about, the twisting bark monument”
>“it seemed cool from above, but I don’t think there’s a bandit camp there”
>“there isn’t, it’s impossible to traverse unless you fly over it”
>“oh…”
>“and don’t get any ideas yourself either”
>“but I-I wasn’t ge-
>“I can see it in your face Anon, there’s nothing worth the risk there”
>“…”
>“the third place”
>“it was a small town”
>“a small town?”
>“yeah, in a clearing, they had crops and everything, they looked quite happy”
>“hmmm”
>Fridy finishes her tea and closes her book
>“thank you for the information Anon”
>“no problem”
>“now leave”
>“yeah I-wait what?”
>my spaghetti rumbles within my pockets
>“I said I need you to leave, now”
>...
>my spaghetti spills out but only a little

>“um… um… n-not to be rude or anything but why so suddenly?”
>“because I need as much time as I can get with Mr. Henst to discuss our next actions”
>“and what does that have to do with me?”
>“so far, Mr. Henst has gotten nothing but good impressions from you”
>“oh… um… thanks?”
>“that makes you a very possible distraction”
>“oh”
>“now go, he could get back here any minute no-
>I hear the back door open and immediately Henst’s voice echoes out from the kitchen
>“hey is that Anon? my boy, you made just it in time for lunch!”
>Fridy smacks herself on the face with the book
>“well… this is awkward”
>Mr. Henst’s voice calls out again
>“come here boy, we got some wild boar steak on the burner”
>I collect myself and walk to the kitchen
>I can feel Fridy’s looming presence following behind me
>try my best to remain stoic even though I can feel her intentions of snapping my neck on the spot
>Mr. Henst is on his wheelchair by the table
>he’s grinding some spices with a mortar and pestle
>Ablia is on the cold stove preparing some cuts of meat
>“sit down Anon, you too Fridy”
>“hi Anon~”
>Ablia waves at me with a kitchen knife and blood on her hands
>“hi and uh… thanks for the welcoming sir but-
>“you haven’t eaten already have you?”
>“eh… well, no but-
>“then sit down and have lunch with us”
>“I… ok… thank you sir”
>I pull a chair from under the table and sit down
>Fridy sits on the chair next to me
>“we killed this one this morning so it should still taste fresh”
>Fridy clears her throat to get our attention
>“sir, there’s some important things we must discuss”
>she says as she eyes me up
>“we’ll talk later, lunch time should be used for lunch”
>“I… sir…”
>“what are you concerned about? what can be so important now anyway?”
>Fridy remains quiet
>I try and make it up to her by supporting her case
>“Mr. Henst, I’m fairly sure that Fridy has the right to be concerned since it’s about the bandit raid that happened yesterday”
>“ah…”
>“…”
>“the seasoning is ready Ablia”

>“sir?”
>“we’ll talk as we eat…”
>Henst sounded upset
>like he didn’t want to talk about the topic
>I understood but it also scared me at the same time
>because that proved Fridy’s reasoning pointless, and I was scared of what she was capable of
>Ablia walked over, took the bowl of freshly ground spices and went back to the stove
>an awkward silence fell over the table as we waited for our meals
>Fridy tapped her fingers on the table
>Mr. Henst was struggling to stay awake
>and I was sitting there, avoiding eye contact, and trying discretely daydream the time away
>probably no more than 10 minutes later, Ablia returned to the table with two wooden plates on her hands
>on them were the thick cuts of the boar’s meat, cooked at about medium-rare
>she placed one plate in front of Mr. Henst and the other in front of Fridy
>Ablia retreated back to the kitchen one last time before coming back with another two plates and four knives
>she set a plate for me and the last one for herself as she sat down with us
>everybody reached for her plate to take one of the knifes
>I followed suit
>I wondered for a second how I was supposed to eat with only a knife before looking at Ablia and seeing her cut off a large chunk of the fillet before stabbing it and taking it to her mouth
>unusual but whatever
>I started eating just like them
>“how’s the pig son?”
>“good… really good… the meat is soft, the seasoning is on point, and outer layer is quite crisp”
>“yeah, buddy of mine came over in the morning, said he had a problem with a boar eating his cabbages… went over with Ablia and killed the damn thing, made a meal out of it while we were at it”
>“nice…”
>“ones of these days we’ll take you out hunting son, I want to see myself what you’re really made of”
>“weeeeell, hunting is not really my thing”
>“what do you mean? I thought you said-
>oh shit yeah… the lies…
>“uh, I mean like it’s not my thing right now… you know?”
>“uh…”

>“I mean like… uh… I have work and stuff…”
>“ah I see… welp, whenever you’re free, call us and we’ll have a nice evening hunt”
>“y-yeah…”
>after that awkward exchange, it was all silence again
>once we finished eating Ablia stood up and carried our plates away
>Fridy didn’t waste any more time
>she pulls out her maps and notebook
>“mister… about the raiders…”
>Henst nods
>“alright, I didn’t want to put my mind into right now but… well, let’s see”
>“Anon did some scouting and brought to us some useful information…”
>“thank you Anon”
>“no problem”
>Fridy rolled her eyes before she continued to talk
>“…it seems a lot of the information that raider we captured was useless”
>“so what now? are you gonna uh… do whatever you did to him again?”
>“I don’t know if we could, I’m not even sure if he’s still alive”
>“what… what do you mean you don’t know if he’s alive?”
>“look, it’s complicated, ok? he’s proven to be an unreliable source anyway…”
>“I… see… I guess?”
>“though there seems to be a possible location here, it is too much of a wild guess to send someone to check it out, what do you think mister?”
>“hmmm… too wild of a guess eh?”
>“it’s probably a waste of resources”
>“the things is, I’m not sure if we have any other options”
>“uh, perhaps I could help… again”
>I said feebly
>“perhaps I could uh… ask some friends for help”
>Fridy and Henst raised an eyebrow
>“and how could they help?”
>“uh well… they could help me look for the bandit camp, they have planes too and uh… yeah”
>Fridy and Henst looked at each other for a few seconds
>“well I… I guess if they are willing to help, we won’t say no”
>“great! I’ll go ask them”
>“right now?”
>“sure! why not?”
>“well, take care then Anon”
>“thanks for everything Mr. Henst, Fridy, Ablia”
>I got up from the table and picked my things up
>“farewell Anon”
>“bye Anon!”
>shouted Ablia from the kitchen
>I headed out the door and got on my bike
>I rode as fast as I could to my home
>it musn't have taken more than 5 minutes

>flying back and forth between the village and the city was starting to get on my nerves
>I couldn’t waste any time though
>I was up in the air in less than 20 minutes after arriving home
>the fly was smooth, nothing out of the ordinary
>I landed the airfield and got towed back to my hangar
>holy shit I hate that system
>fucking retarded waste of time
>I changed back into normal clothes and ran outside
>the first people I saw outside where the MiG guys
>they had brought the technicians over to look at their plane
>Hermann was nowhere to be seen
>his hangar was wide open, and his plane was nowhere to be seen
>so I guess he was out
>I walked over and waved to the MiG guys
>they returned the wave but only Dany came over
>“what’s up man?”
>“hey, what are you guys doing?”
>“nothin, just getting the MiG through its weekly check, making sure everything is fine, got Rodrick over there helping the mechanics”
>I looked past him and saw that Rodrick’s form of helping was of the ‘stand-around-and-shout-advice’ kind
>“um, pretty cool?”
>“yeah, you know he’s the technical guy and stuff”
>“ok…? l-look I have something to ask you guys, I need help with something”
>“oooh does it involve us destroying shit?”
>“maybe”
>“ok cool, just uh hold on a second”
>Dany turned around and walked a few feet away from me
>he raised his fist up in the air for a few seconds before whipping it down
>I could barely hear him muttering “yussss” under his breath
>he then walked over to me again
>“so what do you need help with?”
>“ok, so there’s this group of very kind people that live some ways away from here, they got a bit of a bandit problem and-
>“ah I see, you want us to fuck them up”
>“maybe, first we need to figure out where they’re coming from”
>“ok I gotcha, first we look for them, then we fuck them up!”
>“hopefully… I mean yes… that’s the plan at least”
>“yeah we’re in man, we’ll even give you a discount price”
>excuse me? discount price?
>oh shit
>I forgot they are mercenaries

>I hope their discount price isn’t still too outrageous
>kinda haven’t been too conservative with my own money either
>speaking of which
>I should take up some more jobs in my free time
>“well, that’s nice of you but uh… how much are we talking about?”
>“uh… who knows? first we have to see how much we’ll have to invest into this little stunt”
>“oh I get it I get it”
>“yeah, but don’t worry about it, that thing is soviet made, it doesn't cost a lot to run it for a little bit”
>“right… look, I have some other stuff to do around here, I’ll keep in touch and tell you when everything is ready”
>“for sure bro, just tell us some time before shit goes down, we need time to prepare and shit”
>“aight, see you later”
>“later homie”
>we parted ways with a fist bump
>I walked off to the shuttle line to wait for a ride
>and the first shuttle that passed by just so happened to have Ferdinand on it
>“ah mister Anon, good to see you again”
>“hello”
>I jumped in and sat beside Ferdinand
>the shuttle cart started heading towards the main building of the airfield
>“off to the new hangar? There’s still some time left before the test begins”
>“I was actually heading out to buy some groceries, but I’m pretty much ready, I just need to change into my flight suit”
>the shuttle stopped in front of the main building
>a couple of people were standing outside waiting for the transport
>“well, that’s good to hear, we’ll be waiting for you”
>“yeah, see you then”
>I make room for the people coming in by shuffling out through the other side
>as the shuttle takes off again, I am left alone with my thoughts
>in reality, I was scared shitless of the test
>whatever that thing was that they wanted me to fly…
>…I just don’t think it will even make it off the tarmac
>well… if I die, I’m haunting my hornet
>then I'm crashing it into the RnD deparment
>I swept the thoughts of death aside and left the airfield
>I needed to buy some new socks after all…
>…and food…
>…and alcohol

>I took a cab to a nearby supermarket and bought everything I needed
>a couple of socks, some generic t-shirts, food, and several assorted bottles of liquor
>I checked out and headed back to the airfield
>on my way to the corner where the taxis passed by, I faintly heard something similar to that of angry goblins trying to steal something
>curiosity took the best of me, and I headed down a dark alley from where the sound seemed to come from
>I carefully laid down my grocery bags behind a dumpster and pulled out my hi-power from my hip holster
>the alley expanded into a small square area where the back of three buildings converged
>I peeked around the corner where the wall of the alley opened up
>there, a couple of goblins were poking around a very clean looking sports bike from the early 90’s
>one of the goblins jumped on the driver seat and started fiddling with the handle bars
>the other tried poking his grubby little hands behind the panels
>what the hell where they doing?
>I mean… besides trying to steal the bike obviously…
>the panel grouper started pulling on the handle molester’s arm to get his attention
>the handle molester then slapped the hand away and scolded his green skin companion
>this quickly became a bickering competition as the goblins started bad-mouthing each other in their weird incomprehensible dialect
>insults turned to slaps and punches as the goblins quickly spiraled into a full-on fight
>it was like watching two very ugly monkeys screeching and fighting over a piece of fruit
>at that point I wasn’t even concerned with hiding anymore
>I was just leaning against the wall with my arms crossed waiting for the thrilling conclusion to this brawl
>my money was on the handle molester, he had the high ground
>however, the fight was quickly interrupted when one of the back doors got kicked open
>a very pissed off human stepped outside
>he was, probably, the legitimate owner of the bike

>and he was, probably, alerted to what was happening in his back yard by the noise of two goblins fighting over practically nothing
>oh shit
>looks like things are about to get funny
>the goblins, surprised that they were somehow discovered, tried running away from the man with murder in his eyes
>panel grouper tried to bolt, but immediately tripped on his own feet and face planted into the ground
>handlebar molester barely got both his legs over the gas tank before he was grappled by the neck, and smashed into the floor by the man
>the goblin was dead on impact
>I’m still not sure if the force turned his brain into mush or if it snapped his neck instead
>the surviving goblin got on his feet and once again tried to run
>this time however, he was stopped by me winding my foot back
>I punted the goblin back towards the man
>who then began stomping on the goblin’s head
>a rather gruesome death, but a well-deserved one
>probably…
>once the man was done with turning the goblin’s cranial content into oobleck, he wiped his brow and turned to me
>he extended a hand towards me and said something in his language
>“uh… English?”
>“oh pardon me, I said I would like to thank you for helping me rid my neighborhood from these pests”
>the man reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a wallet
>“don’t worry, it looks like you did most of the job anyway”
>he looked down at the death goblins before looking at me again
>“I insist, I would have been very upset with myself if one of them got away, they been scoping out my lovely motorcycle for quite a while now you see”
>“oh dude, I mean it, keep the money, I… actually…”
>I checked the hour on my phone
>it seems like I spent more time in the store than I thought
>if I were to continue on my way, I’d barely arrive for the test on time
>“hey, can you maybe help me in some other way?”
>“yes? what is it that you need help with?”
>“I have to get to the airfield rather quickly and a taxi is not gonna be nearly fast enough”

>“oh I see, sure I take you there no problem, just let me go get my helmet”
>“thanks mate”
>the man ran back inside
>I walked back and recovered my groceries
>as I got back to the bike, the man was already coming out with a helmet and leather jacket on
>he sat on his bike and folded the kickstand up
>I secured my bags underneath my arm and got behind him
>“hey, if these goblins did somehow manage to start your bike, how would have they driven it? they can really reach the gear shift lever can they?”
>“goblins are not smart creatures my friend”
>“true… speaking of which, what do we do with those?”
>I said as I pointed back at the two dead goblins beside us
>the man simply pinched his lower lip and whistled
>two other men came out walking through the same door he did
>they didn’t say a word before they started dragging the goblin corpses inside
>“oh…”
>the man kickstarted his bike and we were off
>I continued to make small talk with him as we rode through the calmer parts of the city
>“this is a really nice bike man, what model is it?”
>“it’s a Kawasaki ZX-7, I won it on a bet off of this one intense bloke”
>“did you really? that’s amazing”
>“yeah”
>the man opened the throttle as we reached more open streets
>“woaw… I have a little sportster myself, it’s really nice but I left it some ways away, can’t really move myself in this city… besides taking a cab…”
>“public transport in this place can be a pain sometimes”
>“tell me about it, I still can’t believe taxi fares that big are somehow legal”
>“they technically aren’t but it’s quite a long story… hold on tight now, we’re almost there”
>“oh shi-”
>we made it to the airfield in a few short minutes
>he stopped right at the entrance
>“hey I didn’t catch your name”
>I asked as I got off
>“I am Iasoff Nuvelor, I work for the department of civil transportation, if you ever want to buy a vehicle here, call me and I'll make the process easier for you”
>he reached into his jacket and handed me a business card
>neat

>“I’m Anon, and I think I’ll give you a call sometime soon”
>“cheers”
>and with that, he was off
>as I walked through the entrance, I asked myself
>“why the fuck did I say that? a few hours ago I mentioned in passing that I needed to be more conservative with my money”
>hmmm, though having a car in this city could be very useful
>I’ll put it on near future goals then…
>I continued forward
>got into the bus kart
>got to my hangar
>got my groceries inside my mini fridge
>got into my flight suit
>got the fuck to the RnD hangar lab thing with only a couple of minutes to spare
>thank you, man on the motorcycle… I’ve already forgotten your name…
>as soon as I got off at the hangar, Ferdinand and the rest of the engineers welcomed me…
>…by immediately shoving me into the experimental abomination they had built
>and I remembered why I regrated agreeing to test this
>the cockpit of the crude F4U chimera thing was barren
>the seat was literally just two pieces of sheet metal in an L shape with some cotton padding
>there was a concerning lack of button and levers and…
>…oh my god this is…
>look, I appreciate simplicity, but this is just ridiculous
>there was a throttle lever and a stick, obviously
>there was a lever to adjust the rotor blades pitch angle, which was good to have
>yes, there were gauges and instruments, but they were very crummy
>some of them weren’t even calibrated properly
>and that was it…
>Screws, the guy in the overalls who smells like gasoline, jumped onto one of the wings so he could talk with me
>“how are you feeling today Anon?”
>“hey, um… how am I supposed to start this thing?”
>“you can’t, we’ll jumpstart the engine from the outside”
>“um… what is this thing supposed to be testing again?”
>“a new form of the company’s secret fuel recipe, we want to see if it works on piston engines”
>“why didn’t you just buy a cheap car instead of building an entire plane to test it on?”
>“because we’re on an airfield, not a racetrack”
>“…”
>“good luck!”

>Screws jumped off the wing and went to the front of the plane
>Jordan, the lab coat, jumped up and took his place
>at this point I’m pretty sure that wing is snapping off as soon as I get off the ground
>IF… I get off the ground
>“don’t listen to him Anon, we’re actually really interested in how this new fuel mixture could react to the different conditions an aircraft may experience during flight”
>“can you promise me that I won’t blow up?”
>“for the most part, if anything were to happen, I give it a 97% chance that it was a problem related the plane itself, not the fuel”
>I panned my view around the winged abortion I was sitting on before returning my glance at him
>“gee thanks, now I’m more fearless than ever”
>I said sarcastically
>“I know it’s not great BUT… if everything goes according to plan, we may get a nice little fund boost from the higher up, funds we can use to make this plane uh…”
>“less shitty”
>“let’s just say better for the sake of positivity, ok?”
>“fine…”
>“here, you’ll need this”
>he handed me a walkie talkie and a scarf
>“the walkie is already tuned to the frequency we’ll be using to communicate with you”
>“no helmet?”
>“you’ll be fine without it”
>“I…”
>“the safety harness is located behind the back of your seat, be careful not to chafe your arms on the edges of the metal plate though”
>“what do I do if I need to bail out?”
>“there’s a parachute under your seat, just grab it, open the canopy and jump”
>“…”
>“…”
>“…”
>“look man, not everything is about what we can and can’t give you, we did what we could with what we had, cut us some slack please”
>“oh alright, but I’ll be very pissed if this thing ends up killing me”
>“fair enough, just sit tight and wait a few minutes as we get some other things sorted out”

>several engineers and mechanics surrounded the plane
>they were checking surfaces, making snarky remarks and nothing things down
>a few of them opened panels of the cowling and started poking around the engine
>seemed like stuff was almost ready, so I prepared myself
>it had been a while since I flew something like uh… this?
>not like a prototype aircraft
>I mean I haven’t flown anything propeller driven in a while
>much less something so crude
>either way, I still remembered some the basics
>I set the paddles as flat as I could
>that way I reduced the chance of me accidentally running somebody over when the engine started
>I reached around the back and pulled the seatbelt over, chaffing my arms on the sharp metal panel in the process
>ouch fuck
>I clicked the straps around my chest and tightened them
>…
>uh…
>well I guess that’s as ready as I can get
>the walkie talkie emitted static before Jordan’s voice came through
>“alright Anon, we’re almost ready to start, shut the canopy and I’ll give you some instructions for engine startup”
>I set the walkie on my lap and pulled the giant glass bubble over my head
>I held it in place with one hand and did the latches with the other
>the sounds from the outside were severely muffled
>the silence started ringing on my ears
>that’s good, considering that giant engine on the front is probably loud as fuck…
>…and they didn’t give me ear protection
>“done”
>“excellent, now I’m gonna need you to set the throttle to eh… about 10%”
>one of the mechanics outside started waving his hands around
>he yelled something, but I couldn’t quite make it out
>almost everyone around the plane got up and walked away
>only a couple of mechanics at the front of the plane stayed
>I slowly pushed the throttle one tenth of the way
>the whole plane shook for a moment
>then the engine roared alive
>the paddles started spinning rapidly
>the mechanics closed the cowling and ran out of the way
>alright, I guess it’s go time then

>“alright Anon, everything is ready, there’s a observer plane in the air waiting for you”
>“so I just get out there and take off?”
>“and don’t change the frequency of your walkie talkie, that’s it, good luck”
>“aight”
>I slowly angled the paddled
>the plane started to pull forwards slightly
>I pushed the paddles the rest of the way and then started working the throttle
>I poked throttle lever slightly
>that somehow was enough to get the plane to jerk forwards and scare the shit out of me
>jesus fuck
>I instinctively tried to push on the pedals to steer this thing out of the hangar
>only to remember I have no pedals
>fuck’s sake
>I twisted the stick and centered the nose of the plane on the exit
>this feels like playing a flight sim with a really crappy Chinese controller stick
>why didn’t they just put it in this way from the start?
>“having a bit of trouble Anon?”
>“uh… it’s a bit wonky but I got it”
>“you sure?”
>“yeah, I hope”
>I rode the plane out of the hanger and was immediately beaten upside the head by the sun
>the moment I realized
>I’m in an enclosed and very cramped space
>no protection for my entire head
>while the sun is at its highest
>the air inside the cockpit quickly became stagnant and hot
>a thick coat of sweat quickly formed over my face
>I made a fucking mistake, didn’t I?
>a different voice came through the talkie
>“hey there Anon, taking off already?”
>it was Ferdinand
>“y-yes sir”
>“excellent, we’re currently circling over the airfield, I want you to get up here and follow us to the testing area”
>“on m-my way sir”
>I didn’t even bother anymore
>I had to get this done fast or else I would cook up inside here
>so I lined myself with the taxiway and shoved the throttle
>the engine shook a little before sobering up and launching the plane down the concrete road
>fuck taxiing all the way to the runway
>I’m taking off right here, right now
>to hell with airfield rules and formalities
>I'm not getting paid enough to do this anyway

>the plane rattled violently as I blazed through the bumpy concrete
>once with enough speed, the tail rose by itself
>I pulled back on the stick gently and got off the ground completely
>the tail wobbled slightly because my grip accidentally twisted the stick a little
>fuck I gotta keep that in mind from now on
>“bit of a rough start but time efficient if you ask me”
>“mister Ferdinand? Where are you?”
>“above and to your right, we’re heading away from the airfield and the city for safety reasons, so, if you could be so kind as to follow us”
>I looked around until I spotted their plane
>it was a pretty basic Cessna
>probably a 172
>I grabbed the stick and slowly gained up on them
>“I’m right behind you sir”
>“are you feeling alright? You sound a bit down son”
>“it’s really hot in here sir, like, I’m sorry for my language but holy shit”
>“is there a problem with the plane? is anything on fire?”
>“what? no! I mean… I hope not, but uh… I don’t think the landing gear lever is working”
>“how is it not working Anon?”
>“it’s not there”
>“I see…”
>then the distinctive sound of a pen scribbling through paper came through the radio
>“welp, it seems like we’re away enough… I think… let’s do this quick for your sake”
>“thank you sir”
>“if you’d be so kind, start the test by doing an ‘aileron roll’… is that how it’s pronounced?”
>“alright, aileron roll, that shouldn’t be too hard…”
>I grabbed the stick and gently pushed it to the left
>the plane started rotating accordingly and smoothly
>until it didn’t
>something started rattling and the nose began to dip on its own
>oh no…
>“uh… Anon? that roll doesn’t look much like the drawings I have here”
>“I think… I maybe didn’t have enough speed to do it sir”
>“you reckon?”
>“I’m just gonna uh… I’m gonna do things and tell you if anything brakes ok?”
>“I… sure I guess?”
>“cool, just let me not crash first”
>I start pulling back
>the plane takes a few seconds to respond but it stabilizes
>phew
>…
>I fucking hate this plane

>I grab the throttle and push it about 80% of the way
>the droning of the engine becomes an intense rumble
>the tail kicks about and the plane quickly starts picking up speed
>holy shit
>I start to outclimb and outrun the observer plane
>god da-wait a sec
>that’s… actually not that impressive…
>anyway
>the speed I’m going at is nothing compared to what my jet does on the regular
>but the acceleration
>the feeling
>the pull
>the concerning rattling noise coming from below me
>it was exiting, and fucking terrifying at the same time
>mostly terrifying though
>“holy hell Anon, you really put the pedal to the metal on that thing”
>“with all due respect sir, the term ‘balls to the wall’ seems more appropriate in this situation”
>“heh… just don’t get to far away, or else we won’t be able to ‘observe’ you”
>“understood, I’ll loop around and start with the maneuvers”
>I pull and twists on the stick to the right
>making a wide turn and losing some speed
>but gaining it back in a matter of seconds
>I pulled back on the throttle slightly to make the plane a little more manageable
>once I was nearing the observer plane, I pushed the stick to the left once again
>this time, the plane actually kept leveled as it made a full rotation
>it was a tad sluggish on the bank but so was the original corsair
>why would this very similar frame be any different?
>“that was a nice roll Anon, felt anything unusual?”
>“well, a lot of things actually, but I imagine you’re talking about the engine, right?”
>“correct”
>“I don’t think so… I mean, it’s a bit slow to react but I can’t really tell if it’s the engine’s fault or someone just cocked up this throttle lever”
>“well, we put the most effort on the engine and then kind of rushed the rest, so probably the throttle lever”
>“yeah”
>I leaned back on my seat and accidentally hit my head on the edge of the back plate
>ouch
>I let out a sigh and then wiped the sweat off my brow
>a feeling of absolute burning pain spread across my face
>oh

>that’s right
>how could I have forgotten?
>the sun is a deadly laser
>…
>I tried containing the pain
>but then a piece of my cheek flaked off
>I took another deep breath and…
>“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-”
>we kept going with the test
>I took every opportunity I saw to hide from the sun
>and by that, I mean hanging upside down a little longer than any maneuver would require me to
>the entire ordeal ended up being around 40 minutes
>40 grueling minutes of constantly cooking under the sun and tolerating high(-ish) G maneuvers
>when it was finally over, I was left a wreck
>I couldn’t think straight
>I could barely talk
>half of my vital body fluids were now OUTSIDE of my body and sloshing around inside my suit
>and that weird rattling noise from before was back
>as we were heading back to the airport, I opened my end of the walkie talkie to speak with Ferdinand
>I asked him two things
>1.- how to turn off this thing once on the ground
>2.- to tell the rest of the team to put at least a fan of some kind inside this thing
>he didn’t say much
>he just replied with disingenuous affirmations and scribbling noises
>when I had the airfield in sight, I beelined for it
>didn’t even wait for the team on the observer plane
>I set the plane down as fast as I could and as close as I could to the RnD hangar
>almost breaking my spine in the process
>I set the rotor angle as flat as possible and pulled back on the throttle
>this slowly brought the plane to a halt
>I quickly undid the latches to the canopy and pushed it back
>the feeling of fresh air flowing into my lungs and around my shriveled face-skin was one of the most beautiful feelings I’ve felt in a while
>I had survived…
>the moment was then immediately destroyed by the massive roaring engine piercing my ears
>so, I attempted to shut it down as per Ferdinand’s instructions
>what is the process you may ask?
>simple
>grab the throttle and yank it up and down until the engine kills itself…
>which is what I did…

>after a few seconds of intense rumbling and inconsistent engine tones, it happened
>the bloody thing stopped
>plus, some gray smoke emanated from the cowling panels
>what exactly had happened inside the engine I had no idea
>I didn’t care, it was over
>I jumped off the plane and almost immediately faceplanted
>my legs weren't responding properly
>I sat on the wing of the plane to try and regain any bit of energy I could
>a white van with the Balthazar logo pulled up next to the plane
>a side door opened and several members of the RnD team jumped out
>one of which was Jordan
>he walked up to me while the rest went on to inspect the plane
>his face scrunched up when he saw mine
>“oh Jesus…”
>“y-yeah…”
>“I… holy shit dude, are you alright?”
>“n-no”
>“I… hey g-guys, can any of you bring me the thing?”
>one of the engineers looked up from the plane before going back to the van
>he returned with a duffle bag of sorts and gave it to Jordan
>“um… we… didn’t think the uh… sun would get that bad…”
>“you guys…”
>I paused just to take a deep breath
>“…you guy t-thought about it? l-like at a-all?”
>“right after you took off…”
>I gathered most of my remaining strength just to speak the following sentence normally
>“if you got some sort of medicine for me in that purse, give it to me now so I can recover as soon as possible and kick your ass”
>he pulled out an unlabeled aluminum can and gave it to me
>“drink this, it’s a cure for heatstroke”
>I opened the can and chugged the entirety of the weird metallic tasting liquid inside
>“thank you”
>I uttered before throwing the can to the side of the runway
>something rumbled beneath me
>at first, I thought the medicine reacted with something in my stomach and my lower abdomen was about to erupt violently
>turns out it was just one of the plane’s landing gears giving up
>the entire side of the plane buckled, causing the wing I was sitting on to slam into the ground
>“huh…”
>I said puzzled
>and then immediately passed out

>I awoke several hours later in an infirmary
>three people were standing at the foot of my bed
>one was a doctor I didn’t recognize
>another was Ferdinand
>and the last one was Hermann
>oh he’s here too
>neat
>“uh… I’m alive”
>“we can tell”
>said Hermann sarcastically
>I sat up on the bed and started rubbing my eyes
>my face didn’t burn
>it no longer felt like it was coated in fried panko either
>I looked down at myself and noticed that not only was I wearing a hospital gown, I was also hooked up to an IV
>huh
>“are you well? does something ache or doesn’t feel right?”
>asked the doctor
>“well, I’m pretty tired but I feel intact… I think?”
>“do you think you’ll need any more medical assistance?”
>“no…? unless getting me a coffee counts as assistance”
>“we can arrange that”
>“great”
>“if that is all you wish, I will leave to arrange your discharge”
>“thanks doc”
>“the nurses should be with you in a moment to disconnect your IV drip”
>he leaves
>I turn my attention to Ferdinand and Hermann
>Ferdinand approaches me and hands me a white envelope
>“I’m sorry for the trouble, I wanted to make sure you were alright, but now I have important matters to attend to”
>“it’s ok, I appreciate it”
>“I’m sorry for having to leave so suddenly, I do hope we get to work together again in more uh… favorable conditions”
>it did feel a little harsh for him to leave the moment I woke up
>but the sorriness in his voice felt genuine
>“it’s all okay, as long as it served as a learning experience for the team”
>“ahaha… yeah I’m pretty sure that mistake is not happening again… oh but, before I go, can I ask you something?”
>“yeah?”
>“can you describe your experience with the experimental plane as brief as possible?”
>“amazing powerplant, awful everything else”
>Ferdinand pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote my quote on the palm of his hand
>“awesome, thanks for feedback”
>he too leaves
>I turn to Hermann with a smile
>he shakes his head at me disapprovingly
>my smile fades

>“what’s the matter?”
>“when the clowns at research and development asked you for help, did they say anything about me?”
>“um… yeah”
>“what did they say?”
>“they told me you refused to be their test pilot, and so they came to me”
>Hermann crossed his arms and nodded
>“what? you knew this was gonna happen?”
>“this specifically? no, but I did expect something to go wrong”
>I raised an eyebrow
>“what do you mean?”
>he didn't have faith in this project?
>but he’d been a test pilot for the department for some time
>what changed now?
>“look Anon, you have to understand, this airfield may seem impressive when you look at the whole thing from afar, but I knew they wouldn’t have the resources to make something even remotely safe to fly”
>“why not?”
>“the company may seem big and mighty and that is somewhat true, however, they tend to focus their attention close to their center of operations, near the capital… here? we're practically the furtherst outpost in the whole country”
>“…”
>“I accepted to help them before because they were testing technology mounted on planes made by real aerospace companies, you know… competent people? when I heard they were creating their own airframe, I decided to stay out of it for my own safety, you should too from now on”
>I laid back down on the bed
>Hermann moved to my side and placed some neatly folded clothes in my chest
>“when I heard what happened, I grabbed some of your clothes from your hangar before coming over”
>“I… thanks…”
>“hope you don’t mind that I dug through your things”
>“no, it’s ok”
>“hey, I recognize that tone… don’t feel bad because what I told you, we may be under contract, but the company doesn’t have complete control over us, feel free to say no if it is the best for you”
>“alright, I’ll keep it in mind from now on”
>“take care Anon, I’ll see you later”
>I smiled and waved him goodbye
>frustration tied my throat into a knot
>I didn’t have the guts to tell him I wanted to keep helping the RnD department

>now I know that doesn’t make much sense considering where I am right now…
>…you know, in the infirmary
>but I believe that should this scheme succeed, I will find myself handsomely rewarded
>maybe even formally recognized and celebrated
>maybe…
>though I have learned from my mistake
>from now on I will first ensure my safety before agreeing to fly any more crazy contraptions
>let this by a promise to myself
>…
>anyway, let’s see what’s up with this envelope thing
>I opened the flap and pulled out a letter which I began to read
>“on behalf of the Balthazar company as written and approved by blah blah blah addressed to the private contractor in collaboration with the local branch, Anon Anonson, who in our service blah blah blah shall receive full medical treatment with no charge and be awarded a sum of $27,000 as compensation on top of the agreed payment for the completed work in which his injuries were sustained. Signed, upper management”
>…
>“neat…”
>I slipped the letter back into its envelope and set it aside
>a couple of nurses walked up into my room
>they unplugged the IV out of my arm and handed me my flight suit in a plastic bag
>I changed out into some proper clothes, and I was free to go
>on the way out, I bought some snacks from a vending machine
>after that, I went back to my hangar to rest for the day
>the MiG boys were out in recon, Hermann was off running errands
>it seemed like I was going to left well alone to wonder what to waste my extra 27k on
>or so I thought until a couple of fancy cars pulled up
>oh boy… here comes trouble…
>the suit lady arrived at my hangar
>this time, not only accompanied by her two goons, but also tailed by a bunch of equally ostentatiously dressed paper pushers
>I groaned before getting out of bed to meet them
>“mister Anon, good evening”
>“huh… need anything?”
>the mob behind stared at each other confused at my lackluster reply
>not accostumed to getting straight to the point, are they?

>“we’ll, I’ve been informed that recently you’ve made a personal purchase for a not insignificant number of bombs, is that true?”
>“yeah, what about it?”
>“we’ve like to know what you plan to use them for… as a safety measure”
>“do I really have to answer?”
>“yes, you do”
>I narrowed my eyes and looked at the people behind her
>“who are these guys?”
>“assistants”
>“for?”
>“assistance, now, what are the bombs for?”
>they were all preoccupied with their clipboards and tablets
>not really even paying attention to me
>ok
>so, they are not a secret enforcer squad ready to kill me for dipping their business income by 0.23%
>good
>I guess it shouldn’t be too big of a deal to tell them my plan
>“alrighty then, I want the bombs to help some friends out”
>“a private venture, eh?”
>“I guess you could call it that”
>“so, your friends… are they members of a small village?”
>“yeah-wait… how did you-”
>“is their village located somewhere near the coast?”
>“I… yes”
>“how is military ordinance supposed to help them exactly?”
>“they are uh… having some problems with bandits”
>“so, you are going to…?”
>“bomb the shit outta-”
>“you’re going to bomb the shit out of them, ok”
>I nodded slowly
>she beckoned to one of her followers
>a man in suit came up to us, clipboard and pen ready
>“refund his purchase”
>“yes ma’am”
>“hey wait a second!”
>“don’t freak out just yet Anon, I figured you were trying to do something like this, we’re going to help you”
>“wai-hold on… so, you somehow knew what my exact situation and plans were, and not only that but you conveniently showed up on the one moment I’m in the base not doing anything important? fucking hell… I need to check my hangar for bugs”
>“you don’t, we’ve been having trouble with those savage misfits for months too now, they are not just harassing your friends, they are all over the goddamned place, and worst of all… it seems like someone big is helping them”
>“…what do you mean by that?”
>“someone is arming them, Anon!”
>“oh…”

>huh
>now that I think about it…
>it was kind of weird how those ‘starving’ bandits that attacked Ablia’s village were going around with machine guns and barrels full of food
>“we have a list of potential reasons but no solid leads to any one person or group… yet”
>“so how you know-
>“I’ll explain it to you later, right now what I care for is that you help us… or rather, let us help you”
>“like right now?”
>“no but soon, we’ll launch a scouting expedition to find out as much as we can before starting with strike missions”
>“I see…”
>“as for your order of bombs, from now on we’ll be the ones supplying to you, both in weapons and pay”
>I stroked my chin and nodded
>“just one thing, I’ve talked with the boys about this and they said they wanted in”
>“the boys?”
>“team Big Kat”
>the suit lady shrugged her shoulders
>“the annoying guys with the MiG”
>“oh! the guys who live right next to here?”
>“yes…”
>“…couldn’t you have asked Hermann instead?”
>“he was out”
>“hmmm… alright, we'll let them in as long as you promise to keep them under control”
>“me?”
>“you're the one who invited them in”
>“ah fine, I guess I could do it”
>I'll just have to ask them nicely to not shit anything up
>“well anyways, we’ll be keeping contact with you Anon though your normal assignments are still on”
>“alright”
>“rest for now, but if there’s something you want to talk about on the bandit problem, you know where my office is”
>“aight, see ya”
>the suit lady collected her posse and they left
>I laid on my bed and went back to thinking about how to spend my money
>I could easily just save it for when I need it later but where’s the fun in that?
>a memory suddenly flashed before my eyes
>it was the visage of a goblin flying through the air before crashing down into the ground and getting gored by the impact
>THAT’S IT!
>I quickly sat up and rummaged through my bedside drawer
>there I found a note
>it was the business card of that one car salesman guy who gave me a ride here
>bingo

>I grabbed my phone and quickly dialed up the number
>my call was immediately answered
>I don’t know what came through, but I recognized the sound as that of a person
>“hello?”
>I replied pretending not to have heard whatever that last thing was
>“english?”
>“yes, english”
>“oke, who talking?”
>“my name is Anon, is this uh… ia-Iasoff?”
>“you looking for Iasoff? Oke, give me moment”
>the line went silent before a more familiar voice answered
>“hello? who is this?”
>“I’m Anon, that guy that helped you out with the goblins”
>“ah you, what can I do for you friend?”
>“I’ve just got a paycheck and I wanted to get a car or a bike or whatever”
>“I see, you think you can come over now?”
>“wait, like right now?”
>“yeah, to the civil transportation department, we’ve got the dealership right here”
>I looked at the time and at the sunlight outside
>it seemed like there was some time before the sun started to set
>“alright, I’ll be there shortly”
>“excellent friends, just be sure to ask for me when you get here”
>Iasoff hung up
>I pocketed my phone and got going
>I made my way out of the airfield and called a taxi
>less than 30 minutes later I was walking around the city center with the department of transportation in sight
>easy to spot thanks to its name being plastered in bright paint across the face of the building…
>…in three different languages
>I got in and headed towards the dealership part of the buildings
>guided by some handy signs on the floor
>again, painted in bright colors
>I arrived to the place
>I knew I had when I saw the giant showroom with a couple of fancy cars inside of it
>there was a woman working at a desk nearby
>I walked up to her and asked for Iasoff
>she stood up and left without saying a word
>a few minutes later she returned with him
>Iasoff was holding a clipboard chock-full of papers on his hands and a giant smile on his face
>“hello!”
>“hey there”
>“I'd knew you'd come looking for a car but I didn't think it would be so soon!”

>“you see… something happened at work today… or yesterday… I got lucky and I got a big paycheck out of it”
>“well lucky fella, what are you looking for?”
>“something with four wheels and around 27,000”
>“alrighty, follow me”
>Iasoff took me through a door near the back of the room
>inside were several lines of cars
>each line had a sign at the start of with several numbers on them
>I assumed it was the price range or something like that
>we walked down the room
>the first few lines were made of pretty nice sportscars and luxury tourers
>and as we went down the lanes, the car slowly became more boring or older
>it wasn’t until we arrived at a lane made mostly of modern but basic sedans that Iasoff talked again
>“this is the 20-to-30-thousand-dollar lane, anything here that may call your attention?”
>I started looking
>slowly walking down the neat row of cars, looking for anything my taste
>nothing seemed interesting until I got to the middle of the lane
>between some Japanese and German grocery getters were an interesting trio of cars
>an orange VW SP2, a silver Nissan Z32, and in between them
>a red Porsche 968
>I looked over to Iassof and pointed at it
>“this one”
>Iassof nodded and walked over as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard
>“this… is a Porsche 968 from uh… 1992… in old world time… it has a 3-liter engine, a manual transmission with 6 gears and uh… the notes here say some pieces of the interior are worn down but uh…”
>“no mechanical problems?”
>“doesn’t say so, and last inspection was only two weeks ago”
>“alright… how much?”
>“we can offer you a monthly payment plan of 28 grand over a span of-”
>“is there like a discount if I pay all of it upfront or something like that?”
>“uh… yes, $26,390”
>“excellent, I’ll take it”
>“are you… not gonna haggle or…?”
>“nope, I’m taking it”
>“…ok”

>Iasoff pulled out a pen from his pocket and started writing down on the clipboard
>I started to get giddy
>my hands started to fidget by themselves
>“right, just a few more things before you’re off with your new car…”
>“uh…”
>“you are a foreigner, right?”
>“yes”
>“do you happen to work in the Balthazar company?”
>“yes… buy how is that relevant?”
>“workers of the Balthazar company and its subsidiaries get certain benefits”
>“oh… neat”
>huh
>smells a bit like lobbying but I think I’ll just not question it
>Iasoff turns his clipboard to me along with a pen
>“sign in the dotted line please”
>“sure”
>I tried to get a quick glance into the contract before sealing it
>the problem was that the contract was written in the weird runic alphabet people use here
>ah fuck
>whatever
>“and that’s it, just let me go get the payment terminal and the keys and you’ll be free to take it”
>“just like that? I don’t have to present any papers or identification or anything?”
>“no, you get a free pass”
>“is that one of the benefits you said?”
>“yes”
>“ok… cool…”
>10 minutes later and I was driving out of the storage room through a gate
>Iasoff stood besides the gate, leaning down to talk to me through the window
>“safe travels friend, if you ever want to go get a beer you have my number”
>“sure thing man, thanks for the car”
>he patted the roof of my car before going back inside
>I started to drive back to the airfield
>…
>so I have a new car eh
>this feels…
>good…
>hmmm
>I think…?
>ah it must be the soreness
>I’ll appreciate it better when I’m all well rested
>I’m sure of that
>a few minutes later and I was back
>this time taking in the vehicular entry way and driving straight to my hangar
>I noticed my new ride caught some looks from the staff as I drove by
>I would have felt smug or proud if they were looks of awe or admiration instead of curiosity or confusion
>whatever…
>like I care what they think…
>…

>I kept driving, eventually getting to my hangar
>the sound of the engine seemed to attract attention
>the hangar of the MiG boys opened slightly
>the two of them came out and ran over
>“YOOO WHEELS!”
>“YOOO NEW CAR!”
>I could hear their screaming get closer as I parked inside my own hangar
>they were still wearing their flight suits and their hair was all messed up
>no doubt, they’ve just came back from a flight
>“hey guys”
>I replied as I climbed out of the car
>“where you get the money for this?”
>asked Dany
>“got an extra paycheck after getting heatstroke”
>“what?”
>“someone fucked up and I got injured on the job, so the suits gave me some ‘stop being a pussy and get back to work’ money which I immediately used to buy this”
>they looked at each other before coming to the same conclusion, which they announced in unison
>"nice"
>“so, you gonna take us for a booze run anon?”
>“not now but how about tomorrow morning?”
>“ahaha sure we ca-wait a minute… what?”
>“we have to talk about something…”
>they realized I was being serious
>the boys looked at each other confused
>“something wrong?”
>“not really, it’s about the thing with the locals and the bandits”
>“ah, ok… can't it be now?”
>“nah, I'm kinda beat”
>“right, we'll wake you up tomorrow then”
>they cheered up once again
>and they left, sealing themselves in their own hangar once more
>an earie silence fell over the tarmac
>which is quite weird because this isn’t supposed to-
>and then classic rock came muffled from their hangar
>there it is
>I occupied myself for the rest of the evening
>on the morning of the next day, they did as they said and woke me up
>I drove us out to look for a nice place to eat
>Dany was riding shotgun while Rodrick was forced into one of the hilariously tiny seats on the back
>as you can image, this was the source of an argument before we left
>an argument that was won by the phrase ‘the officer never seats in front of the pilot’
>cough cough attack helicopters

>actually nevermind, that would have only extended the dispute
>and my suffering
>we ended up settling for an IHOP knock-off type restaurant
>they had a big sign right next to the entrance that read ‘we speak england too!!’
>promising stuff
>I found ourselves a table away from everybody else and called a waitress over
>as expected from the sign outside, she talked in broken English
>she handed us a menu and asked “what can you wish sirs?”
>“I want an American breakfast and a cup of coffee”
>“sugar and milk?”
>“only milk”
>“ok sir”
>Rodrick lifted his hand
>“I want some eggs and bacon on toast and a glass of coke”
>“ok sir”
>Dany is the last to order
>“can I get a bowl of captain crunch?”
>“si!”
>“thank you”
>she leaves
>Dany turns to me
>“so what’s the deal with the bandit thing”
>“well… I’d say it’s a good thing but knowing you two…”
>Rodrick interjects
>“what happened? are we doing it or not?”
>“we are, but the company is taking over the ‘operation’ and how it’s going to get done”
>Dany throws himself back into his chair
>Rodrick too looks disgruntled
>“so, we are not blowing shit up then?”
>“we are… I think…”
>both look at me with an eyebrow raised up
>“look, all I know is that they somehow knew what I was planning, and they want to juice the situation for PR”
>“of fucking course they do…”
>“they refunded an order of bombs I had made but then they told me something about the thing still happening and us getting free weapons an actual pay out of it?”
>“really… hmmm… maybe it’s not as bad as we thought”
>Rodrick said
>to which Dany responded
>“we? I still think it’s bullshit! Can’t we do our own things every once in a while? I don’t want to be nannied by a big corporation all the fucking time”
>“heyheyhey simmer down alright… remember the big plan, it won’t be long before we are on our own shit again”
>“yeah… yeah, I guess… I guess a few more years of corporate cock throating couldn’t hurt…”
>Dany replied sarcastically
>“the big plan?”
>I asked

>Rodrick explained
>“yeah, the big plan to get out of Balthazar’s grips… we are going to buy a better plane and get the fuck out once our contract runs out”
>“huh... I thought you guys liked it here”
>“we like this place, the city, we like this country and the continent it’s on, that’s not the problem”
>Dany adds
>“the problem is that we don’t like is being bossed around by some dickwads in suits, we got forced into this… kinda like you Anon”
>“I see… so what are you after? Do you have a specific plane in mind?”
>“an SU-30, we’ve been grinding our asses off for one, that’s why we’re always away escorting cargo planes or patrolling some shitty mountains”
>Dany pries in
>“yeah, I’ve once even got radiation sickness from being exposed to the upper atmosphere for so long!”
>“that was food poisoning”
>“I know but it sounds cooler if I say it was radiation”
>“if that’s the case then I can-
>quick Anon!
>ask something before the conversation spirals into another stupid dispute!
>“uh… where do you guys plan to get an SU-30 from?”
>the eyes on both go wide
>“uh… we uh…”
>but then Rodrick confidently says
>“don’t worry, it’s a Russian plane, at least a few are bound to end up somewhere in the black market”
>I guess that a fair point
>the waitress returns with our food
>we have a silent breakfast before leaving, bill split
>we drive back, shooting the shit in the meantime, talking about how shit the restaurant was
>and everything was going fine
>until we arrived to the airfield and there was a bunch of black cars sitting around our hangars
>“ah fuck” I exclaimed
>Rodrick tries squeezing between the seats to see what was going on
>“what’s the matter-oh god fucking dammit”
>it’s miss bitch and her posse… again
>“oh goodie, what could they want now”
>“I don’t know, let’s see”
>I park in front of my hangar
>the moment we get out, a mob rushes towards us
>miss bitch herself walks through the crowd and stands before us
>“do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you?”

>“what do you mean waiting for us? waiting for what?”
>“THE PHOTOSHOOT!”
>the boys look at me puzzled
>I shrug my shoulders before going back to her
>“no one told us anything about a photoshoot…”
>bitch facepalms
>she pulls near one of her assistants by the neck of his shirt
>she swiped a clipboard from the man’s hands and starts shuffling through the papers
>“aha! It says here that I send Mr. Joshua McKanik to inform YOU gentlemen about today’s proceedings… hmmm… and he didn’t report for work today… I wonder what he could be-”
>the assistant points somewhere else in the paper and bitch reads it
>she raises an eyebrow
>“oh… he got hit by a bus yesterday… why did nobody tell me?”
>she said nonchalantly
>the mob just looks at each other while shrugging their shoulders
>“oh whatever, someone send some flowers and our condolences to his family”
>“but boss, he’s still in the hospital, he isn’t dead yet”
>“do it anyways”
>“as you wish”
>the man takes his clipboard back and runs away
>not even getting into one of the many cars nearby, he just foots off
>okay…?
>“alright people, I think we’ve wasted enough time here! get everything ready while get these stooges up to speed”
>stooges?
>“ok, a photoshoot… I assume this has something to do with the PR campaign you have planned”
>“correct, we’ll be taking pictures of you and your planes, we’ll pose you as ‘the winged heroes who’ve come to save us all!’… how’s that sound?”
>“I don’t think-”
>“yeah that’s cool”
>“yeah I like that”
>the boys shout over
>ok then
>I guess that’s how this is happening
>“excellent, just do as you are told and this should go over smoothly”
>Bitchy McWhatever-her-name-is snaps her fingers
>the suit mob descends upon us
>they whisk the boys away to their hangar
>a man pinches my keys from my pocket and drives off with my car
>“OI!”
>some other men drag me into my hangar
>one of them produces a folding chair seemingly out of nowhere and I’m promptly sat down
>“the hell is this? couldn't you a-”

>my voice was suddenly silence as I was sprayed in the face with a strange, sweet-smelling liquid
>it was a nice scent, but it was still being forced into my lungs and eyes, so I began to cough quite violently
>when I opened my burning eyes again, there was a miniature vanity desk in front of me
>there were also more people standing around me
>women, holding combs, scissors, bottles, and other wild woman things I don’t know the names of
>they started pulling my hair, trying to comb it into a cohesive, good-looking shape
>or they were trying to scalp me judging by the force they were using
>I looked to the man holding the liquid I was sprayed with and asked
>“what the fuck was that?!”
>“it’s probably an alien concept to people like you… we call it perfume”
>“why are you spraying me with that? photos don’t have smell!”
>“it’s not for the shoot, it’s for our sake”
>“oh very funny mister paper pusher… is your poor ‘air conditioned office accustomed’ nose feeling assaulted by a little bit of morning sweat? You probably wouldn’t know what real hard work is, even if it got SHOVED UP YOU A-
>hissssss
>“AAAAAAAAH!”
>around fifteen minutes later, the torture stopped
>the skin on my face felt awkward and I was forced to wear a blue flight suit that was too small for me
>but at least they stylized my hair into a snazzy slicked back style
>unfortunately, the constant flow of beauty chemicals into my eyes had caused them to redden and swell
>something that could now be fixed with more makeup
>so instead, I was given a pair of sunglasses
>I was then kicked out of my hangar, and made to wait until the rest of the things for the shoot could be set up
>“hey Anon!”
>I turned around to see the boys again, wearing the same blue suits and glasses as me
>“did they…”
>“yep”
>they both raised their glasses up at the same time, revealing their swollen and tearful eyes
>“I think they want pictures of the jets too, so we'll have to wait for some tows”
>“god fucking dammit”