Chapter 16

 

SIXTEEN

Trigger knocked on the door quickly.

“I don’t know what your anticipating Major” the Sergeant guarding the door said pragmatically. Trigger sighed with the report.

“Have you at least been checking on him?” Trigger asked annoyed.

“Of course, Major Santos has us checking on the Captain four times a day, plus meal delivery. And for added monitoring, we have a camera inside the room.” The Sergeant explained.

“How voyeuristic.” Trigger said flatly.

There was a rustling commotion behind the door that caught the men’s attention, a second later the door popped open. Standing there, stood a haggard looking Knocker. Trigger could see his eyes looked almost glazed over, and he had a slight beard growing from going days without shaving. The PT gear he was wearing was stained and wrinkled and looked almost as if he had been wearing it for the past few days.

“what do you want?” he asked quietly, an annoyed tone cutting through his voice. Trigger could see his eyes start to focus, and that burning intensity return to them.

“I came to check on you Captain” Trigger replied.

“What the fuck do you care?” Knocker shot back

“Well, you’re supposed to be taking command of the Air wing here. But so far, I can’t really see you being able to while your locked away here. I came to check and see how your doing so Byrns can give you the go ahead back to flying. But you know what happens if you’re not capable” Triggers voice trailed off.

Knockers outbursts had caught the Osean Command by surprise. They were not willing to pull his flight status as quickly as Byrns was wanting. Trigger’s last job in Selatapura before leaving was to see if Knocker would be able to return, or if another officer would take the role.

Knocker stood looking unimpressed with Trigger. In comparison, Trigger was wearing his pressed blue service coat, along with the small handful of ribbons and awards.

“What the hell does a war criminal like you even know about that stuff?” Knocker said, flicking the wings on Triggers uniform. Trigger held up his hand to ward off the Sergeant from intervening.

“Captain, I have given you chances time and again to shape up this past week, but this is really the path you want to go down?” Trigger growled “You are a goddamn officer, and a Squadron commander no less! How about you shape the fuck up and start acting like one!” Trigger admonished, his voice rising in volume.

Knockers eyes were blazing he got nose to nose with Trigger “Or what? You gonna shoot me down like you did to o’l Harling? I was there. I know what you did” Knocker taunted.

Trigger took a step back and shook his head in disgust.

“Jesus Christ. Your not even fit to wear the uniform anymore.” Trigger derided.

“Well now. That makes two of us” Knocker said, satisfied with Triggers outburst. “So, any other reason you came to bother me?”

Trigger sighed. “No Captain. I don’t think there is.” Trigger said flatly.

Knocker retreated into darkened room, allowing the Sergeant to close the door behind him.

“Well Major, that certainly went well.” He said, tapping the holster on his hip.

“What do you mean?” Trigger asked

“Most of the time he just lays in bed staring at us when we come in. Its just damn creepy. So at least he’s speaking and ambulatory” The Sergeant explained.

“Did you guys report this behavior?” Trigger asked

“Yeah, Colonel had the flight doc give him a once over. Dude just doesn’t move.”

Hearing this troubled Trigger. Pilots were the last people that anyone wanted to lose their grip. From Knockers behavior, Trigger wasn’t convinced he already hadn’t.

 

Leaving the Officer dormitories, Trigger made his way across the base towards the now Fort Grays squadrons bar. Unlike the Heritage rooms back in Fort Grays Air Base, Trigger noticed that Golem and Mage squadron had adopted a single room to call their own in Seltapura. He hoped that given his prior assignment to Mage would be good enough to not transgress on the sacred ground.

Walking into the room, he found it oddly nostalgic. It was crowded in a sea of olive flight suits. On one wall a few Pilots had taken to painting both Squadron patches. He grinned when he saw the cartoonish ‘Merlin’ that the Squadron had as their mascot since the early days of the Osean-Yuktobanian Cold War.

Elsewhere In the room, Trigger could see a darts competition between some of the Golem and Mage pilots, and then on the far wall behind the bar, was a young second lieutenant serving the alcohol that the LRSSG had left behind.

The Energetic atmosphere was something he had missed, compared to the laid-back attitude the LRSSG had had in the very same room. He in some ways missed it.

Trigger made his way through the crowded room; he noticed the mood around him changed as people saw him enter. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his uniform, his rank, or his previous interactions with their commander that made them view him as an interloper.

Approaching the bar, he found an empty stool and sat down. “What can I get you?” the distracted Lieutenant behind the bar asked.

“Cola please” Trigger replied

“Ah come on! Nothing harder than that? What are you a-“ The lieutenant froze when he saw Trigger.

“Right away sir.” He quickly said, making off to retrieve the soda.

“What are you doing here?” came an accusatory voice from Trigger’s left.

“What?” Trigger asked.

“I asked what are you doing here? Brass like you doesn’t come down here without a damn good reason.” The voice asked again. Burying her head on the bar was the young female lieutenant Trigger had met when the squadron arrived. First Lieutenant Janet ‘IRIS’ Hart happened to be Mage’s acting flight leader. Trigger had only briefly overlooked her record and saw she had three air to air victories and was by far the only experienced nugget pilot the squadron had. 

“What, I can’t come back and see what became of my old squadron?” Trigger asked cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. He could feel the eyes on him as the room went from a loud chatter to a dull drone.

“Nope. Not after the shit that happened the other day. So, I ask again. Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for information.” Trigger replied truthfully.

“Depends on the information Major.” IRIS replied annoyed, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well, as you can guess, Its mostly about Knocker.”

“Figures, Captain did pull a gun on you. By the way, why was that?” IRIS asked, before Trigger could reply she continued “Whatever, what do you need to know Major?”

“How was he when he was at Fort Grays?” Trigger inquired.

“What do you mean?” She asked

“How was his behavior. Was his attitude always like how he’s acting now? Or is this a new change?” Trigger clarified.

IRIS nodded. The lieutenant behind the bar returned with the soda for Trigger “Cap has always been a hard-ass.” He interjected flatly.

“in what way?” Trigger implored.

The lieutenant behind the Bar was one Trigger hadn’t had a chance to read the file on. His only knowledge was that he wore the callsign of ‘Hades’. By Triggers guess, Hades was still fairly fresh out of Heierlark.  Hades thought for a moment on Trigger’s question.

“Cap won’t let anything slide. On training missions around the Islands, he would Unsat the entire flight for almost everything.” Hades said.

“And on Combat debriefs, he would always end up ripping us a new asshole and make us run combat drill on top of combat drill between missions.” IRIS added.

“But Cap has saved our asses a bunch of times. Especially towards the end of the war. He once took on a flight of Fulcrums with just one wingman and came out on top, just to buy us some time to complete the objective.” Hades said admiringly

“Yeah, if I had a nickel for every time the Captain got myself or any of Mage out of a tight spot. He might be a hard-ass but at least when the chips are down, he’s probably the only one here we can count on.” IRIS said.

Trigger nodded listening intently as the nuggets shared their observations.

“So Major, now that we answered your question. Care to answer ours?” Hades asked.

“Shoot.” Trigger replied.

“You used to fly with Knocker, right?” Hades continued

“Something like that. I was Mage, not Golem, but you know.” Trigger explained.

“Any idea what happened? All the old hats on base said he was a ton different before the war. Do you know if he got a ‘Dear John’ letter or something?” Hades asked. Trigger was surprised with how under informed the young pilots were. When he had arrived at the penal base, almost everyone had heard the reason he was in prison. His ‘shoot down’ of the former President had made Trigger a minor celebrity even before he had made it back inside the cockpit.

“If he didn’t say anything about it. Its not my place to say then.” Trigger replied, dodging the question.

“So then why does Knocker have such a hard-on to kill you?” IRIS interrogated.

Trigger rolled his eyes. “It’s classified” he said flatly, taking a sip of his cola. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if the events surrounding the mission were classified, he hadn’t cared enough to check, and as far as he was concerned, it was dead and in the past.

“Oh, come on Major, You really can’t say?” IRIS implored.

Trigger looked the younger pilot square in the eye. “There’s a difference between ‘Can’t’ and ‘Don’t want to’. I’ll let you be the judge on which this falls into.” Trigger said sharply, shutting down the topic.

He checked his watch, quickly downing his soda, he pulled a small wad of cash from his wallet and left it on the bar, the Fort Grays pilot’s gave him a wide berth as he exited their bar.

Might have been a Mage once, but those days are long over. Trigger thought to himself as he made his way to ramp.  

***

Trigger watched the mottled green and brown Kawasaki C-1 transport taxi lazily onto the ramp from the runway. Overhead he could see a formation of two Flankers performing the overhead break for a landing.

On the ramp under the shade of a Hanger, sat Cossette and her advisors, along with a small group of armed Erusean Military awaiting the Transports arrival in relative comfort. Trigger on the other hand was on the verge of heat stroke. Between the wool service dress and mid-April sun, He would have rather been in the Nomex flight suit. He tugged slightly at his collar, in vain to prevent overheating.

“Doing OK there Trigger?” He heard Colonel Byrns ask from behind him. Trigger turned to see the Colonel, grinning and wearing his ABUs. “Yes sir, probably downed half my weight in water though” Trigger dryly replied, holding up an empty plastic water bottle for emphasis. Byrns chuckled, “Well, just remember that those planes only have one bathroom, and you have to share it.” He joked.

“You know, I’d thought they’d have more pomp and ceremony involved.” Byrns observed.
“Most of the executive white-bodies were destroyed or captured when we took Farbanti. The EAF had to make do.” Trigger explained.

“And what of those Flankers?” he said, pointing at the two fighters taxiing their way onto the ramp. On closer inspection Trigger could see that they were and SU-30 variant, however instead of the traditional Erusean tan and green, they were a factory air superiority grey with hastily spray-painted orange Erusean roundels on the wings and fuselage.

“If I remember the briefing correctly, they’re loaners from Yuktobania. I guess they were originally slated for one of their allies but something in the deal fell through, which meant that they were just sitting on a ramp somewhere in the Jilachi rusting away when the Princess got them.” Trigger explained.

Byrns nodded. “How nice of them, brand new gen fours for a low price.”

Trigger snorted “Not that nice. Yukes really dumbed these planes down. They lack even the basic PESA radars the Su-27 has. I think they are the same ones that were on the MiG-23s?”

“Damn, how mighty white of them then.”

“Yukes stipulation was that the fighters were for defense only. They didn’t want to cause any issues with Osea incase the Princess changed her mind. Like she’s in any position to” Trigger elaborated.

“Well I guess you can be thanked about that, How much of her air force is adorning your plane in tallys?” Byrns joked.

Trigger thought for a moment. He knew he was an ace before he was court martialed. While in the penal unit and after, he hadn’t kept track unlike Count and the other pilots had. Outside of a handful of victories, most didn’t stick out in his mind.

Trigger shrugged “I honestly don’t know. I’m probably up there, even without counting the UAVs.”

“Not many pilots can just casually say that you know.” Byrns said flatly.

The two men turned their attention to the C-1 as it stopped in front of the hangar and shut down its engines. Quickly surrounded by a ground support crew, hoses were connected to refuel the jet, within a moment of the cargo bays door closing, the crew was frantic in loading pallets of luggage for the flight.

“I don’t get why she didn’t ask us for a Liaison aircraft.” Trigger said in disbelief at the sight. “We have plenty of the damn things. Im sure we could have spared a Gulfstream or if nothing else a Huron. And its not like we don’t do special air missions for the FCU like that all the time.” He continued.

“It’s all about appearances Trigger” Byrns said sternly “We already beat these people, badly. The last thing any of them needs, is the demoralizing punch to the gut of a foreign power returning their leader to their occupied capital. They have to have some dignity left. And besides it would likely inflame the Erusean population even more than they already are.” Byrns explained sadly.

Trigger nodded in understanding.

“So, Major, learn anything new about this Captain?” Byrns asked, changing the subject.

“Not a whole lot. Fort Grays seems to have a ton of faith in him. But I can’t say I saw any of that in person. If I had to guess, I might be the catalyst of this behavior. Kind of hard to observe in that case” Trigger reported. “If nothing else, the Pilots here seem to follow him. If you want my opinion, as long as the flight surgeons say he’s ok, let him continue. Just keep him on a short leash until we figure out if I’m the cause or if he’s just an asshole.” Trigger continued.

Byrns nodded. “Good enough for me. Besides I don’t think Edwards would let me even if I wanted to take him off Flight status. We’re sorely down good pilots. Another reason it hurts losing you to the Liaison Corps.”

“Sorry about that.” Trigger apologized.

“Eh, it is what it is Major. Are you ready for the flight?” Byrns asked

“Yes Sir, dropped the duffel bag of my uniforms off earlier today, so Theoretically I just need to show my ID and that’s it.” Trigger explained.

“Well in that case Major, I think that’s all I have for you.” Byrns said, extending his hand. Trigger gave the Colonel a firm handshake “Thank you Sir.”

“All I can say is good luck Trigger. I expect to hear great things from your new job.” Byrns concluded.

Trigger gave a sharp salute, before turning on his heel and making his way to the onboarding queue.  

 

Approaching the line, he was stopped by an Erusean Soldier.

“Identification please?” he asked

Trigger produced his ID and Paperwork from the Erusean Government. The Soldier studied it and then pulled out a metal detector wand “It will be just a moment Major” he said as he waived the device over Trigger. Satisfied he returned the papers and pointed to a small waiting area for the passengers.

“Ah Major, glad of you to join us!” Cossette greeted as he approached.

“Of course your Highness. Sorry for my tardiness, had some final things to wrap up before I left.” Trigger explained. It was a show the couple had been having to put on for the previous week, Trigger couldn’t wait until they were in private so he could make fun of the charade yet again.

“So, Major I trust you have been on something like this before?” Cossette asked.

Trigger studied the military transport for a moment. “Well not one of these exactly. Does a C-130 count?” he asked.

Cossette giggled at the response “Well, I can tell you these are wonderful airplanes. Though this one probably wont be quite as comfortable as the one I’m used to.”

“Oh right! you had a special converted one, right?” Trigger asked, feigning the attempt at small talk.

“You’ve done your homework! Yes, my former Transport was a Specially converted plane. It was wonderful, plenty of space, and had an interior closer to my Fathers 777 than these bulky military transports.” Cossette explained.

Trigger had looked up photos the Erusean press had released, Cossette’s Personal L-1 was a heavily modified C-1 transport, Inside was a small personal cabin for Cossette, and then in the rear portion of the jet was something more akin to an Airliner. Instead of metal panels, on the floor was carpeting, the walls were a mixture of wood paneling and plastic. The rear door was also sealed permanently and instead was a baggage area. The King had the jet specially commissioned for Cossette’s sixteenth birthday.

And I didn’t even get a car for my sixteenth!  Was all Trigger could think when he had read the details of her plane.

As the two talked, A Erusean officer interrupted them.

“Votre Altesse, nous sommes prêts à embarquer” the Officer reported.

“Bien sûr, je serai sur tout de suite” Cossette replied quickly to Triggers bewilderment.

“Well shall we go Major?” Cossette asked, noticing Triggers confused expression. “You know, there is still time to take language classes. I can even tutor you if you would like.” She teased.

“That won’t be an issue your highness. Lead the way” Trigger conceded.

***

A sudden jolt of the airplane woke Trigger up. He looked around regaining his bearings, The C-1’s cargo area was converted for passenger comfort, instead of the basket seating that soldiers were used to, it was multiple rows of airliner seating. It was a small concession in the loud cargo environment of a predominantly logistical mission of the aircraft. He could see the other bureaucrat advisors to Cossette were unnerved by the turbulence the jet found itself in, Trigger grinned in a faux superiority on his indifference towards the phenomenon. However, he was still uncomfortable due to the sensory deprivation he found himself in. Unlike most passenger aircraft, the Erusean C-1’s lacked windows outside of those on the doors. Trigger hated having a lack of situational awareness where the aircraft was, and not having an orientation on a horizon also bothered him immensely.

The whole feeling reminded Trigger of his time as a primary instrument student in Heierlark. Like with many students in his class, he suffered from ‘The Leans’, the flight surgeons briefing was long winded and about medical terms that went over Trigger’s head, but what he figured was that what his body was telling him, and what his eyes were seeing rarely ever agreed. He found amusement in a memory of flying an ILS approach into one of the airbases outer lying fields in a T-38 with his head planted firmly on the canopy desperately trying to keep the needles on his HSI centered all the while combating the urge to vomit. As he progressed however, Trigger learned to ignore the feelings and trust the avionics.

Lacking any avionics for his eyes to trust, Trigger once again started getting the uncomfortable tug in his stomach once again. He envied Cossette’s apparently indifference to the situation.

***

Trigger stepped off the Jet onto the ramp of Farbanti International Airport. He was glad to stretch his legs after the four-and-a-half-hour flight from Selatapura. He looked around to see multiple members of the media gathered to take photos of the Princess as she made her return to her nations Capital.

Trigger noticed that patrolling along the outskirts of the ramp was both Osean and Erusean soldiers, along with multiple Osean aircraft littering the ramp.

While this was her grand return, there was no question that Farbanti was still under Osean occupation.

Hearing his proper name shouted out caught Trigger’s attention, he could see a small collection of Erusean and Osean military waiving him over. Trigger quickly jaunted to them.

“Can I help you?” Trigger asked, looking for a rank or name insignia. An Osean Lieutenant Colonel Spoke up. “Are you the Air Defense Force Major attached to the Princesses Cabinet?” he shouted over the commotion of the ramp.

“Yes Sir!” Trigger shouted back.

“Major, this is your Erusean counterpart, Colonel Emmanuel Andres” The Osean Colonel introduced one of the Erusean’s.

Colonel Andres looked to be in his early fifties by Trigger’s guess. He wore an Erusean Air Force utility uniform, His skin was tanned and leathery, and his hair and mustache had prematurely greyed and thinned. As well, standing next to Trigger and the Osean Colonel, the man’s height was diminutive. Trigger was only briefly told about Andres from Cossette, and all she knew was that he was one of the few original Conservatives from the first Continental war.

The Osean Lieutenant Colonel turned to Andres “Colonel Andre’s You probably know this man better as ‘Three Strikes’, im sure his name crossed your desk more than once!” He said jovially, slapping Trigger’s shoulder. Trigger noticed a flash of emotion across the Colonel’s face when he heard the nickname.

Trigger held out his hand in a greeting “It’s a pleasure to work with you Colonel!” he shouted, Andre’s pursed his lips and ignored the handshake. He whispered something to an aid and walked off to the confusion of Trigger.

Trigger turned his attention to the Osean Lieutenant Colonel, his nametape on his ACU’s read WOODS.

“Colonel Woods, is there something I can help with?” Trigger asked.

The Colonel grinned “Can’t say there is Major. I’m just glad you got that bag of sunshine off my hands! General Shepard’s office already told me what you’re here for so don’t really worry about any major reporting.”

“Sir, if I may ask, what’s your role in all of this?” Trigger motioned to the greater area.

Wood’s nodded in understanding

“Im the third armor div’s battalion commander. General Jefferson has my unit overseeing the Airfields security. The Unit you’ll probably deal with is the Airborne since they’re running security for Downtown and the Palace. Colonel Padbury will be the head guy to talk to there.” Woods explained.

Trigger tried desperately to recall the crash-course of information he had studied the night previous. The Osean Ground Defense Force had five separate battalions stationed in Farbanti. The one’s Trigger expected was the 3^rd Armored, who had already taken to calling themselves “First in Farbanti”, and  the 101^st Airborne, who had been later arrivals to support the beleaguered Osean 2^nd Marines who had taken the brunt of the counter-insurgency fighting in the city following the civil war’s outbreak.

Trigger had wanted to push his time in Farbanti as far out of his memory as he could.

“Well Thank you for the warm welcome sir. Is there anything else I will need to do while im here?” Trigger asked.

Woods thought for a moment “I mean you may want to talk to Padbury when you get to the Palace, but aside from that, your on a special assignment, and Shepard already told Jefferson to leave you be so, do whatever I guess.” The Colonel replied nonchalantly.

Trigger excused himself and watched from the sidelines with the other advisors as Cossette finished her speech.

Almost immediately, a convoy of government vehicles pulled up, well dressed Erusean Military opened the doors and started directing where each passenger was to be.

In Trigger’s vehicle, was Thorogood and the Erusean Secretary of Education, a portly man who Trigger had largely managed to forget. Trigger noticed the Secretary of Energy’s eyes roll as she saw him climb into the large suburban.

 

The convoy sped down the main freeway leading into Farbanti’s downtown, escorted by both Police and military vehicles

“So. Major, do you have any particular thoughts of our city?” Thorogood asked pointedly.

“A lot bigger from the ground.” Trigger grunted

“How do you mean?”

“I’ve only seen it from a few thousand feet.” Trigger answered

“Oh? Were you one of the pilots during the invasion?” She probed

“Nope, just only seen it from an airliner’s window. You know, high school senior trip to Expo City.” Trigger lied.

The Education secretary perked up at the slight mention of school. “So Major, where did you go to School?” He asked, trying to continue the small talk.

Trigger shrugged at the personal question “Many places, Parents were military so, Kinda moved around a bit growing up.” He said, avoiding the question.

“I always wondered how you Osean’s do schooling over there.” The man asked aloud. Thorogood snorted, “Now Melissa, theres no reason you can’t be civil.” The man chided.

“Shut the fuck up Herman” she hissed, causing Herman to shrink slightly.

The ride to the Palace was silent the rest of the way.