Chapter Quote:
"Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them, but you know they're always there."
~Unknown
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Chapter 2: Sitting Duck

Bryn

"Is he always this hyper?" I whispered to Felicity as the two of us watched Brian flit around the kitchen, gathering ingredients from the pantry and fridge, then putting them back when he realized they were useless in what he was trying to make.

"Last time I saw him this excited, he'd just gotten Mobius. The dog, that is." We glanced down at the German Shepherd who sat on the other side of me, watching every movement his owner made.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Water? Coffee? Mimosa?"

"Tea would be lovely," I said.

"What kind? We have Earl Grey, Lady Grey, Green Tea, Black Tea, Breakfast Tea, Chamomile, Chai-"

"Green tea would be great." Brian darted to the pantry once more, shuffling through an endless amount of tea boxes. Being a tea fanatic myself, it amused me that one of my biggest fans was one too. Did he know that about me because he read it somewhere? Was it a coincidence?

"Tea will be ready in a second. So how are you? Where do you live now? What are you doing now that the war's over? Are you seeing anyone?" Brian fired at me before suddenly stammering out, "Not because I'm interested. Which I'm not saying you're not attractive because you are, it's just you're too old for me... And I don't mean that as in you look old! I just know you're close to my dad's age, and that's just weird!"

"Brian. Deep breaths," Felicity said with a smirk.

"Your dad must be young."

"He's thirty-seven. Would never know it though. He's found the fountain of youth, I'm telling you," Brian replied, cracking some eggs and scrambling them. He'd calmed down just enough to excel at cooking the different items for breakfast. He even remembered my tea, placing the steaming drink in front of me.

"How old are you?" I asked, taking a sip.

"I'm twenty."

I nearly choked. "Excuse me?"

"Brian was adopted by a young guy. Seventeen years his senior," Felicity explained.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forget to tell people that. I lost my parents in the war. I thought I told you in the letter. I guess I never specified I was orphaned," he said.

"No, you didn't. So what's your adoptive dad like?"

Brian smiled, reminiscing on some unknown memory. "He's awesome. We didn't get off on the right foot in the beginning, even though we'd known each other a while. But in time, I really grew to love him. He's been there for me through everything. He was always patient with me, too. Listen, this might be really straight-forward, but could you tell me about your missions? What was like to fight in the war? I've only ever heard it from the opposing side. I never heard it from an ISAF member."

"I expected this question, and truth be told, if I didn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't have come out here," I confessed. I pulled out his letter. Having it gave me the courage to delve back into my memories, to dredge up a war that killed my two closest friends. In front of me stood a boy eager to listen to his hero talk about the war. I refused to let him down. I skimmed the first bit:

I was just a child when the stars fell from the skies. But I remember how they built a cannon to destroy them. And in turn how that cannon brought war upon us. War was an abstract idea; nothing more than a show on TV. As a child, I only saw it as something the happened in some far-away land. Until that final day of summer...

One day, while on my way to school, I looked up in the skies. A sound like distant thunder. In the blue skies far above me, contrails drew dizzying circles around in a crazy waltz. A battle in the beautiful skies far away. I could not tear my gaze away from them.

A deafening roar.

And then sharp silhouettes appeared, as if to graze the hills, and streaked past me. The fighters played the cat or mouse in turn as they climbed swiftly into the sky. One fleeing plane fell out of the sky, spiraling and spewing orange flames to crash by the cape.

The same cape where my family lived.

Now they only live in my memories of days past. The victor circled around to confirm the kill, and on his craft, there was a large number thirteen, emblazoned in yellow.

I will never forget this.

The Allies retreated across the ocean before the onslaught of the enemy. Our little town in the heart of the mainland fell into deep isolation.

"Okay," I began. "Let's start with my very first mission."
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19 September 2004...

"Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up," I muttered, listening to the never-ending ringing on the other end of my phone. "Please pick up."

"Ember!" A familiar voice piped up. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Lucky!" I exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Always," my best friend responded. Lucky and I had a... complicated relationship. First off, his name wasn't Lucky. It was Kit. I'd given him the nickname as more of a joke when I found out 'thirteen' was his favorite number. I guess it stuck when he went into the military. We'd grown up together for twelve years before his family moved them to another part of the country. We were never able to visit each other, but we wrote letters to each other, called each other, and sent presents to each other. Even when we attended college, neither of us had been able to make a drive out there to see the other. I missed him terribly, and knowing he fought with the enemy made our friendship all the more difficult. But it wasn't because I believed one thing, and he believed another. We were just doing our jobs. What made it difficult was the fact that one day, we could share the same sky, which meant we might be ordered to shoot the other down. I couldn't do that to my best friend knowing it was him. I just couldn't, and he felt the same way.

Therefore, we made a pact to never, ever discuss anything about the war, what our callsigns were, what our squadron was, what our plane number was, or anything relating to our professional lives. While I still feared knowing I could be facing him at any moment, it helped not knowing his plane. I convinced myself I'd be able to recognize him in the air, too. Whether that was true or not, I don't know, but I told myself I could...

The only thing we did talk about in regards to our work life was alerting the other when we were going on a mission. That way, we didn't worry unnecessarily if the other didn't respond for a while. He'd texted me a day ago he was going on a mission. I was calling him now to make sure he was alive, and to alert him I was about to go on a mission myself.

"What are you up to?" he questioned.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay and to let you know I'm about to go on a mission."

"I'm fine. Be careful up there, Ember."

"I will. I'll call you when I get back."

"I'm already counting down. Love you."

"Love you, too," I answered, smiling to myself. Hanging up, I looked up to find myself face-to-face with the leader of the Halo Squadron, also my best friend on base: Miranda 'Angel' Jacobson. At five-foot-nine with long, luscious, chocolate locks, matching eyes, and the build of a supermodel, Angel was a female heartthrob. The guys were all madly in love with her, but most were too scared to even approach. She had this look on her face that silently warned anyone who got close to her that she'd rip their head off (and be smiling while she did it). I had that effect too, but it was more like I had an invisible scepter ready to whack anyone who tried to approach me. I didn't mean to have this demeanor, it just sort of... happened.

"Did I just hear what I think I did?" Angel grinned. "Does someone have a secret boyfriend?"

"No secret boyfriend, just a best friend," I answered, shoving my phone into my pocket.

"Does he know he's in the friend-zone?"

"Considering he's on the other side of this war, trust me, he knows."

"Ooh." Her eyes widened. "It's that friend?"

"Yeah, it's him," I grumbled. Angel was the only person who knew about Kit, who he was, and what he did. I feared retaliation at work if anyone found out about him. Being friends with an enemy pilot forced me into dangerous territory, but I loved Kit and believed him to be worth the risk.

More gently, she inquired, "How's he doing?"

"He's well. He survived his mission, so I'm grateful for that."

"Speaking of which, we should hurry to ours, or else we'll be late!" Angel encouraged. With that said, we ran to the briefing room, reaching it just in time before they dimmed the lights. Our announcer, Johnnie Walker- or 'Whiskey' as we affectionately called him- stood up front, eyeing us carefully. His gaze rested on me and Angel; unless I was mistaken, I saw the smallest smile form on his lips. Whiskey wasn't one to have favorites, but I believe he'd taken a liking to the two of us. Maybe because we were some of the few girls on base, or maybe because we forced him to acknowledge us just by making him say hi. Regardless, I was glad to have a guy like him on my side.

Just as Whiskey started to talk, the phone rang. Obviously irked by the bad timing, he strode over to the phone and answered; an information film played in the meantime. A serious, stoic voice began speaking. "Four years after the planet-fall of the Ulysses 19944XF04 asteroids-"

"Try saying that the three times fast," Angel whispered, causing me to snicker.

"-Stonehenge, the Erusian weapon of mass destruction, was originally built to shoot down asteroids. Upon discovering its potential as an anti-aircraft weapon, the Erusians ruled the skies over the mainland. The ISAF's (Independent States Allied Forces) attempts to destroy the Stonehenge through airstrikes failed. As a result, strategic positions on the mainland were lost. This, in turn, forced ISAF to evacuate from the East Coast to North Point. ISAF GHQ (General Headquarters) is regrouping its remaining combat forces at North Point. However, the Erusians control most parts of the mainland, and they have forward-deployed bombers to Rigley Air Base, a former ISAF facility. This bomber force will attempt to deal a lethal blow to the ISAF at North Point from this strategic position.

"All right, sorry about the delay. Let's begin the briefing," Whiskey said. He loaded the map of the battle zone. "Here is the current sitrep and your orders for deployment, effective immediately. Enemy agents destroyed our early warning radar network, allowing several Bear bombers to penetrate our airspace. In fifteen minutes, we expect this bomber formation to strike Allenfort Air Base, and then move on to targets at North Point. Our air defense forces are extremely weak at this point in time. Hence our GHQ is a sitting duck. It is mission critical that you destroy the bombers and neutralize the threat before they get past Newfield Island. Remember, you are the first line of defense for North Point, and the fate of ISAF lies in your hands."

Operation: Umbrella

Location: Newfield Island

Date: 19 September 2004

Time: 1405 hours

The lights came back on, and Angel and I headed to the hangar for our planes. I hadn't taken off of a ship many times, so this experience would be an interesting one. I hopped into my beloved F-22A Raptor. A gray the color of the clouds, and the pale blue infinity symbol on the tail, my plane had no trouble blending in on those dark days when the sun refused to shine.

Such as today.

Angel took off first, I was soon to follow, shooting off the deck above the deep, sapphire waters. Once the other fighters were in the air, our AWACS came on and said, "AWACS here. Callsign SkyEye. Do you read?"

"I read you loud and clear," I replied. The others followed suit.

"Good. Your callsign is Mobius One. We'll refer to you by this name at all times. You are now under my command. Six bombers on vector three-sixty confirmed. Continue north to intercept."

"Thank you for reminding me of my callsign. I nearly forgot it," I said. Angel laughed as our AWACS warned me to watch my sass. I told him I would without any actual plan to follow through on my promise. Hitting the thrust, I shot forward, quickly outdistancing my allies. I could see the specks of the bombers way off in the distance. I wanted to get to them first.

"Let's go win this thing!" An allied pilot shouted.  It was Halo Three. He was new; I didn't even know his name.

"Today's my birthday!" SkyEye announced. "A victory sure would be nice."

"If we win, does that mean we don't have to get you a present?" Halo Two inquired. His name was Murray Bakersfield.  He'd been on the squadron almost as long as Angel. "Because I'm terrible at last-minute gifts."

"We could sing happy birthday to him," Angel offered.

"Not all of us have angelic voices like you."

"But the off-key makes it all that more entertaining," I pointed out.

Murray paused for a moment, then said, "That's very true. On the count of three everybody: one... two... three! Happy birthday to you!"

We all joined in. I'm pretty sure some people on the ground came onto the radio just to participate. I enjoyed the image of SkyEye blushing in my mind because I knew for a fact he was thoroughly embarrassed. But that's what he gets for telling us it's his birthday.

"I got a lock on a target," I informed, gliding up behind one of the bombers. On my radar, I saw my best friend catching up to me with her team.

"This is Halo One," Angel chimed in. "We're approaching the targets as well."

"Don't underestimate them," an enemy's voice growled.

"Whoa, we're picking up their transmissions." Murray noticed. I ignored his remark, trying to lock onto the enemy bomber. It took a few moments before it finally happened. I sent two missiles for good measure. Direct hit!

"A bomber's been hit!" an enemy shouted frantically.

"There's our welcoming party!" another one responded, sounding much more relaxed about the situation.

"Let your escorts hand them," another added. Part of me wanted to respond to their chatter. The other, more rational side of me told me to stay quiet and just take care of the mission. I chose to listen to the latter. I flew dangerously close behind the next bomber, sending two missiles at it, and then shooting forward to go to the next, knowing my recent target would be unable to escape.

"Gray Two's been hit!" An Erusian exclaimed. "Hurry! Eject!"

"Damn, girl. Look at you," Angel praised. "You're kicking their asses."

"If you and the rest of Halo squadron want to take care of the fighters, that'd be wonderful."

"Oh, yeah, you take the easy job," she joked. Right when she said that, I took out the third bomber. This mission was turning out to be way too easy.

"Mobius One shot down a Bear!" SkyEye announced happily.

"I couldn't bear the thought of losing this battle on your birthday, so I'm doing everything I can to win it," I told him, smirking at my pun and wondering if anyone else caught. Unsurprisingly, my best friend did.

"Is the idea unbearable to you?"

SkyEye groaned. "Stop it you two."

"I don't think our puns are beary much appreciated," I noted, looping my plane around to go after the remaining three bombers. I could see Angel and her team taking the fighters one-on-one. Once I had one bomber left, and if Halo Team still had fighters to take down, I'd help them out. The fewer forces the Erusians had, the better.

"This is Gray One! Damn it, we still have a payload to deliver," a bomber growled.

"He's mine!" One roared. "I'm on his tail!"

I went head-on with the remaining bombers. I swear I could see the pilots in one of the seats. Angel zoomed overhead of me, then dipped down, going after a fighter coming from below.

"Where are the escort fighters?" an enemy demanded. I wanted to tell him any more that came our way, we'd shoot down. But I didn't have the guts to say it, nor did I want the fighters targeting me because of my loud mouth. I'd heard stories of ace pilots going after the Demon Lord before he even got the moniker because he liked to shoot his mouth off to the enemy.

There were only two bombers left, but Halo team seemed to be struggling with the remaining fighters, so I switched gears for a moment and locked onto the nearest one. I fired my guns at it. The enemy, having been focusing on Angel trailing behind them, hadn't noticed me coming from the side. It made for an easy kill. I turned my sights back onto one of the bombers and swiftly shot it down.

Three fighters and one bomber left.

"Target is bombing the city," SkyEye informed gravely. I grit my teeth in determination. No Eruseans left with their planes today. I circled around, going for another fighter.

"Mayday, mayday, this is Gray Three. We're hit, can't maintain altitude. Eject! Eject!" a bomber yelled out desperately. I felt bad that the only thing I thought of at that moment was Tom Cruise saying the same thing in 'Top Gun'. Thoughts like those kept me from thinking too much about the possibility that I had killed someone. You couldn't let that get to you, otherwise, you were screwed.

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Red Nine! I have no control! Ejecting!" The enemy plane I'd just taken down shot out of his plane. I nearly crashed into his parachute. If I hadn't slung my plane to the left, I would've. I let Angel and the others handle the remaining fighters as I realized the last enemy bomber was nearly on top of another city. I couldn't let them get to the next town. We'd already slipped letting them get to the first. Thankfully, I knew the city had long been evacuated, unknown to the enemy. We had a strong military presence there to make it look like it was still operational.

"Strange seeing fighters out this far," Murray noted, seemingly talking to himself.

"This ain't the mainland. Watch out for sharks if you go down feet wet," an enemy warned. I made a face at the imagery that popped into my head at the statement. This area was well-known for not only it's cold, massive waves to surf, but also its unusually high shark numbers. A place down in Osea, somewhere near my cousin, had a massive problem too. They competed for the most shark bites a year. A bit gruesome if you ask me. Then again, the only reason I know that is because I'm a sucker for Shark Week...

"Fighter shot down!" Angel announced. "Halo Two and Halo Three, take care of that last one. I'm going to back up Mobius One."

"Mobius One, Allenfort Air Base is on the nose," SkyEye warned.

"I'm almost there. I have him in my sights." I switched to my special weapons: Quick Maneuver Air-to-Air Missile, or more commonly referred to as QAAM. It allowed me to get a lock on the bomber much farther out than a regular missile. Despite being more powerful than regular missiles, I still fired two to increase my chances of hitting it. Another long-range air-to-air missile shot past me in the direction of the bomber. Glancing behind me, I saw Angel racing after me. she must've used her Semi-Active Air-to-Air Missile (or SAAM) to be shooting from that far away.

I turned my attention back to the bomber as my missiles both hit, sending it plummeting down to the ground. Just in the nick of time, too. A few seconds later, and it would've been dropping its payload onto Allenfort.

Mission Accomplished

"Good job, Mobius One!" SkyEye complimented.

"There's your birthday gift from us fighter pilots," I said brightly, proud that we'd completed the mission successfully.

"SkyEye, this is Allenfort. Got visual on the downed bombers. Whose kill was that? Make sure to thank him."

"Her. I'm a her. And any time," I said.

"Apologies, ma'am. Thanks for the save."

"That's a round-up! Let's go home!" Murray cheered. None of us argued and soon were back on track to land at Base. On the way over, Whiskey came onto the radio and began to debrief us.

"Thanks to your efforts, the enemy bomber strike was averted," Whiskey confirmed. "However, our victory will be meaningless should you fail the next mission."

"Wow..." Angel mused. "Thanks for the pep talk, Whiskey. I know I can always count on you for optimism."

"Makes you wonder how we ever got through life without him," I said.

"You're lucky I like you two," he said.

"Can I have my title changed from Captain to 'Liked by Whiskey'? Because I feel it's a much bigger honor," I remarked.

"You need to put 'Ace' on that badge of yours considering you are one now. You just shot down six Tu-95 Bear bombers. That's no small feat," Angel pointed out.

"I agree with her," Whiskey said.

"Scratch that. I'm changing my title to 'Whiskey Agreed with Me'. My life is complete," she decided.

"I'm going to leave now," our briefer grumbled. The two of us laughed, amused by our own antics. We kept up the banter the rest of the flight back, mostly to keep ourselves awake because my adrenaline high began to waver, and sleepiness started to set in. But, we made it back to base in one piece, and I ran to my phone to let Lucky know I was okay.
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Present Day...

"Halo Team... I remember reading about them," Brian said. "They were really good. Do you still stay in touch with any of them?"

"No, not anymore. In the beginning, I did. We just all grew apart," I replied.

"What was Kit like?" Felicity asked, leaning on the counter on her crossed arms. Her emerald eyes bore into me like she was trying to figure out the answer before I spoke.

I smiled wistfully. "Kind, compassionate, and one hell of a fighter. He didn't survive the war, though. I miss him every day."

"I'm sorry," Brian said sadly. "The time makes it less painful, but the hole they leave in your heart never leaves."

"Eloquently put."

"He's trying to get into the University of North Point," Felicity explained. "For journalism. Hence his beautiful speech."

"Did you take a gap year?" I queried.

Brian nodded. "I took a gap year, and I also graduated when I was nineteen because I got held back because of the war. It's fine. I've been working at the bar to earn some extra money. It'll help go to my college fund."

"I see. If you need a reference, I'd be happy to be one for you. And if you need an in there, one of my former coworkers works there now. I'd be glad to put in a good word for you."

Brian beamed in excitement. "That'd be amazing! Thank you!"

"Of course. Very few people could've convinced me to come out and see them just based off of a letter. You have a talent. Now, what do you say we move onto the next mission?"
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Hope you enjoyed!