Author's Note

This takes place in the Nonbronyverse, so there is no cliche "Brony in Equestria" this time around. Please enjoy this anyway!!

The Flight for Life

PhysicsInvers342 Presents
For My Countries

The time from when I was just a kid sitting on my grandfather’s knee, listening to him tell me that I would grow up to be a big strong man, has long since passed. The time from when tensions between states caused a rip in the Union is gone. The moment when North Korea and Afghanistan declared war on the USA has passed. The time from when I signed up for the Air Force, however is still here. Every day passes like the last, with fast paced workflow and demanding tests. Most days pass like the last, melting into one huge existence.

But not today.

“McKendick! Haul ass and get out here, double time!”

I walked out of the carrier’s mess hall and into the hallway, making sure to walk twice as slow as I normally would, just to piss off the ship’s air traffic controller and my close friend, Virgil Accosta. I grinned as I stepped up next to him. For his part, he gave me a glare.

“So, what are you doing this fine morning?” I asked in a nonchalant manner, both of us walking towards the stairs leading to the deck.

“Growing old waiting for you to get out here. Seriously, do you do that when Cap. Thames calls you?” he grumbled, though his face clearly showed he was holding back a smile.

“No, but only because I worry that he’ll try to remove my skin with a thin strip of leather,” I responded. “So what’s your reason for interrupting my morning sludge, anyhow?”

“The on-ship engineers told me they wanted you on the deck for some testing. I guess you got something to be proud of- they don’t trust any of the other lugheads on this ship with flying those, as they call them, ‘High-performance Intelligence Jets’,” Virgil said, taking the lead up the stairs.

“Yeesh, that’s a mouthful. Can’t they just call them ‘Super-jets’?” I said, shaking my head with amusement. By now we’d reached the deck and started off towards the runway, which was positively frantic with activity and preparations. Given that the ship was an active carrier, there were only so many jets along the side we were walking on. Each one had some sort of customized item on it, whether it was a spray-painted picture on the side, a sticker on the window, or a picture in the cockpit. For us flyers, it was a reminder that we have personalities despite all the conformities of the armed forces. Some of the guys went overboard, putting books or laptops inside (as if they could use them while flying). I had almost nothing inside my own jet- only a set of fine pens and a heavy duty paper notebook for writing down things or the occasional doodle. The only reason it was in there was for after missions to write down how I felt so that I wouldn’t forget my personality.

By now we’d reached the Garage, which was our name for the covered hangar that doubled as a work station for the jets. More often than not, it was simply used for repairs. However, it had been off limits for the past few days now, only letting a select few in. of course, word about what was going on got out quickly, despite it being a secret. My jet, along with my notebook inside it, was taken to be upgraded, as I was the only pilot onboard who had a perfect flying record.

We were quickly approached by Ken, one of the engineers. Being stuck on a boat for weeks at a time, I ended up learning mast of the crew and company’s names. Even so, I didn’t talk to Ken all that much, but he seemed like a decent guy.

“James, good, you’re here,” Ken said, shaking my hand while nodding to Virgil. “We need to move things apace. Follow me.”

He started walking towards my plane, but as I began to follow, Virgil grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.

“I gotta get back to the tower, so I can’t stick around to fanboy over your plane’s new ‘shinies’. Just don’t buzz the tower with that thing, okay?” Virgil said, eyeing what appeared to be a third thruster on my jet.

“No promises,” I laughed, slapping his back. “Just do your job, and I’ll do mine, ya grump.”

He shook his head, smirking, and walked towards his post. I jogged over to Ken, who was waiting with crossed arms and an impatient look.

“Come on, come on, we’re on a schedule,” Ken griped at me.

“Is it as tight as a virgin’s pu-” I started, but Ken put up his hand to stop me.

“Not the time. I have to give you a rundown of the new additions and features on here, okay?” Ken said, looking me in the eye.

“Fine, shoot,” I replied, now crossing my own arms.

“Good. First and foremost, your structure and armor has been upgraded for two reasons, the first to obviously to keep you safe, the second being the need to hold up against higher speeds. You’ll notice the after on the back; it can effectively double your top speed.”

“But,” Ken said, raising a finger here and walking over to a table tat was scattered with tools and wires, along with a sleek looking fighter pilot helmet in the middle, “none of that matters without this.” He picked up the helmet and walked back over.

“This is a user integration helmet. It reads the face of the user and allows for greater connection to the system. In layman’s terms, it lets you become one with the plane.”

I looked at the helmet, then to Ken, then to my jet, then back to Ken.

“So you made it harder, better, faster, stronger?”

“I-... yes. Yes we did.”

“HIT 1, requesting permission to taxi onto runway?” I asked into my comm on my new helmet. To my surprise, the helmet had been tailored to my exact proportions. I guess conformity isn’t everything in the forces. I flinched a little bit when a screen suddenly flickered on in my visor, showing Virgil, who was up in the tower, with his ridiculously oversized headset on.

“Hey there, princess! Video links, huh? Next they’re gonna put an oven in those things,” Virgil snickered. “Anyhow, permission granted, you may begin taxi.”

I shook my head and began inching the plane forward onto the runway. Slowly, my plane lined up with the arrows pointing to the end of the runway. I waited.

“HIT 1, you are clear for takeoff.”

“Booyah,” I whispered to myself, gunning the thrusters, accelerating quickly to a speed fast enough to take off within five hundred feet of the six hundred-fifty foot ship. As soon as I hit the air, navigation systems and information began popping up on my visor.

This is so like Iron Man, I thought to myself.

“Hey, James, try not to push the big red button under the joystick,” Ken said, popping up on my visor as well. “It activates the afterburner on the back, and while it won’t destroy your plane, humans haven’t really been tested to go that fast yet.”

“Will do,” I said, shuddering internally at the thought of passing out while going that fast. By now I was far enough out from the ship to start trying some maneuvers. I pulled a tight turn to the left while tilting to the side, dropping the power in the left thruster and adding to the right.

... I did a goddamn barrel roll.

Coming out of that, I pulled up sharply, going nearly straight up. I felt blood rushing to my legs as the g-forces kicked in. tensing my muscles and grimacing, I forced my blood to circulate. Feeling light-headed, I leveled off.

“I have to say, this handles great, Ken! How’d you do it?” I asked through my headset.

I got no response.

“Hey, Ken, you there?... Virgil, you o the line?... Anyo-”

A scream sounded in my headset, and I froze.

“James, get back here, now!” Vigil yelled, popping up on my visor. I felt myself go cold; Virgil never used anyone’s name when directing in the tower, and his urgency now was unmistakable.

Shit, I thought to myself. I pulled a hairpin turn and opened the throttle to the fullest extent.

“What the hell’s going on?!” I shouted, scanning for the carrier.

“Damn Afghans launched a surprise attack! All of the sudden, boom! Nowhere on the radar!” Virgil panted back. “Hurry it up, huh? We need all the support we ca-”

A bright flash, along with the sound of breaking glass and another scream on my visor made me flinch. A moment later, the square that had Virgil’s video feed was flashing the message, “Connection Lost”.

Dread pierced me like a knife.

“... Virgil? Virgil, you there?” I asked quietly, shaking.

Silence.

I looked down at the newly installed red button on my control panel. I made a split second decision right then.

I hit the button.

Instantly I was thrown back, and probably would have been killed if I didn’t have a neck bracer. It was all I could do to hold on to the joystick and try not to pass out. I saw the speed gauge read faster and faster every second. I could feel my heart trying its best to keep my blood flowing. Even so, my vision was starting to fade. I flicked my eyes back out the window, and saw one last thing: the carrier, with no sign of the Garage, the deck on fire, and the base of the air traffic tower, surrounded by still smoking rubble.

My vision failed, and I succumbed, releasing my breath.

Dead...

Must...

I... dead...

I’m... pain...

Brain... work...

Not dead.

I’m... not dead.

I feel... blanket... No... Not right. Work, brain... I feel a blanket...

Where...?

Slowly, I tried opening my eyes, but almost immediately closed them again. It was bright, even more so than I was used to, which is saying something, considering the brightness of the sun off of clouds. I became aware that I was lying on a soft surface- much softer than the bunks on the ship. I stopped my thought process, listening.

Birds. And the sound of leaves rustling. Some kind of a squirrel chattering.

When you get more better, brain, file that under “unusual”.

Speaking of more better...

My eyes, although I wasn’t sure on the usefulness of them, were obviously still active, so the next thing to check would be my arms.

Okay... right arm first...

Slowly, much like my eyes, I moved my arm, and let out an involuntary groan. It felt stiff and sore, but did not feel broken. Next I tried the left, and was met with less pain.

Why do I have to be right-handed in this situation?

Right then. Now for my le-

I screamed, my body shaking violently. Never before had I been in that much pain. It reminded my of a very old quote my grandfather told me many times: ‘You never know what you have until it’s gone’.

Goddamn leg...

Panting heavily, tears streaming out from under my eyelids, I tried to slow down my heart.

Then I heard the footsteps.

Thank god, someone else.

As they entered the room, I heard a soft gasp from my caretaker, or so I assumed, then they rushed to my side, fairly noisily.

“Oh, my, are you alright?”

The voice was definitely a female, delicate sounding, like one of those quiet girls on a sitcom.

“N-no...” I stuttered out, still breathing heavily. For some reason, my response caused her to gasp again.

“You can talk?!” she exclaimed, sounding completely dumbfounded.

“Yes, I can bloody well talk. A-accident didn’t rip out my vocal cords,” I replied irritably. What kind of a question is that supposed to be?

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just, I-I’ve never seen anything like you before,” she said, sounding abashed.

That statement in particular made me worry.

“Nothing like me”? I’m not disfigured, am I...?

“So... how bad are my injuries?” I asked tentatively.

“You were bleeding fairly heavily when we found you. You were bandaged on the wounds, but we weren’t sure about your hind legs, so we left them unbandaged,” she replied, just as cautiously as myself.

What the hell? “Hind legs”? Unbandaged? Who the hell is this?

The short silence was broken by the voice asking, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Could you please close the blinds on the window? It’s too bright for me,” I said. She began walking over to the source of the light, making far more noise than she should have been.

“What kind of shoes are you wearing?” I asked, since it sounded more like two pairs of feet instead of one.

“Oh, but, I’m not,” she replied, sounding surprised. The light began dimming.

What...?

When the light was barely detectable from behind my closed eyes, I slowly opened them. I was met with the sight of a humble-looking room, made mostly out of wood, a small bookshelf on the opposite end. I turned to the right, where a nightstand was resting, with a book and a few magazines on it.

Then I looked to the left, where my caretaker was.

I was met with an innocent-looking stare from a pair of oversized, cartoonish, blue eyes. The eyes were a part of an even more innocent-looking equine-like face. That face was colored a soft butter kind of color. The face had a head, and a body, too. The head had cotton candy color hair hanging down like a drape. The body, which I guessed would be at about the bottom of my cage when I was standing, had wings. Wings, for Christ sake. She, as it was a she, had a tail that matched the style of the head’s hair, or a mane, as I guess it would be called. Possibly the strangest part, though, bypassing even the wings, was the flank. She had a picture of three pink butterflies on it.

My mouth was hanging open, but I didn’t care.

She began to look a bit concerned, and walked a bit closer. I didn’t move.

“...Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

“I... I...”

“Yes?”

“What in the-” was all I got out before my vision became obscure again, and I felt like I was falling slowly backwards.

“Oh, my!” was the last thing I heard.