An Airman, An NCO and An SNCOby They Call Me InfidelChaptersControl, Romeo 2I Am a MaintainerFOD ChecksControl, Romeo 2Control, Romeo 2 "Control, Romeo 2. Initiate RA." "Copy." Taking a deep breath you start one of the many to come checks for my area. See, being in the security sector isn't all that bad but it gets dull after some time. Especially when you have to guard an empty hangar for twelve hours and just struggle to stay awake. But hey, I get to do something a little more important to the mission than just sit behind a computer screen and slowly become a potato. Actually, I hope the dinner meal comes by soon. Can't wait for those mash potatoes and veal. Sorry, the mind tends to run whenever I am hungry. "Hey! Butler!" Yells your Alpha. "Just hold on! Let me finish the check!" You yell back. After signing a form and terminating the check with control you head back over to the ECP for the hangar. Taking off the beret and M4 and placing them on/in the weapon rack and asking Alpha what they wanted. "Dude! Can't believe they're doing some high tech stuff on the base!" Rubbing your eyes you reply with a grunt and take a seat at the second desk since your Alpha is at the other desk. The seat squeaks at the weight being applied on it but it holds. Thank goodness for that, you did not want to take out the plates in your vest, they were a pain to put in. "Aw... You can't tell me that you're not excited about this!" "Oh I'm excited, but doing all of these checks kinda sucks since I gotta study my CDC," you reply while adjusting the vest. Your Alpha notices the discomfort in your face, well more than usual for yourself. "You can take off your vest y'know," replies Alpha while leaning back in their chair. "No, it's bad enough half of the flight doesn't even have their plates in, besides Patrol, I just feel a bit safer and warmer with this on. Don't want to be a DBA like you," you smirk. "Oh ha ha. Very funny Mr. Highspeed," Alpha shoots back. That name seemed to just stick with you throughout your time here at the base. In all honesty you are not that "high-speed" like everyone thinks you are. You just do what you are told to do, whether it is written down on an SSI or Flight Chief says to do it. Everyone else, besides Police, just does their own thing but it is within the guidelines. You are about to retort but Control decides to interrupt you. "Romeo 2, Control. Landline." Sighing you reach for the phone and call Control. "Romeo 2, A1C Butler. You called?" "Yeah, hey uhh Flight Chief wants you to do outside checks along with the internal ones. You got that?" "Is it just because of the new toy we got for the base or something else?" "It's because of the toy." Confirming of the new order you hang up and grab your beret and rifle. Once all secure you head out the door. "Frago?" Asks Alpha. "Frago," you parrot. "Alright, just don't get lost." "Well if I do I know what my means of communication are," you tease. "That was ONE time! I was dead tired that day," replies your embarrassed Alpha. Chuckling at you partners misfortune you head out to do the outside check. Once opening the portal to the outside world and feeling the cool breeze brush against your exposed skin felt like an old friend greeting you. Before you were on the "Graveyard shift", now though you are on the typical day shift. It sucks because you were use to the colder temperatures and not sweating inside of your vest and having to spray some scent blocker on the inside. And like you said before; it sucks, but there is a saying we have for situations like this. Embrace the suck. Chuckling to yourself you round the first corner of the hangar and check to make sure that you can not get inside. But you hear some fellow airman talking about something. They all are wearing the required reflector belt for working on the flight line so they must be the mechanics or maintainers. You honestly can not tell the difference between the two at a glance but it is not your job to tell the difference between them, it is to provide protection to the resources that they work on. And on the occasion yell at them for not cleaning their area after they are done. Shaking your head you continue on while keeping an eye on them... okay, now it is just one. That is fine with you, less airman to give the stink eye to. Wait, not an airman, that is a Staff Sergeant. Well the same rule applies to everyone whether or not if you are enlisted or officer. The sergeant turns to you and just stares at you with the typical cautious gaze that civilians would give to cops. You hate getting that stare but it does not bother you as much as it did at first so you just wave to the sergeant. Thankfully he waves back to you and turns around. "Eh, at least I got a wave out of them this time," you mutter to yourself. Turning back to your task at hand you hear the scream of a jet engine barreling down the runway. Turning to see the jet take off you notice something weird about the aircraft. "Isn't it dangerous to have wires on the outside of the jet?" You ask slowly. Once done with the sentence the jet was just lifting off of the ground. The after burners kicked on as usual but something happened to the wires on the aircraft. The wires started to pulse to life like a heartbeat pumping blood throughout the body. Soon the pulsing was getting erratic and looked like it was out of control. "That don't look good." That was the last thing you said before the aircraft exploded in a bright white light. Out of reflex and training you get to cover and wait for the thunderous sound of an explosion, but it never came. Instead the white light started to burn your eyes, even when you closed your eyes it still burned. Soon the searing pain was too much to keep quiet to yourself and started to scream out the pain, hopeful for the screaming to lessen the pain, but it seemed only to intensify the pain. Collapsing to the ground you scream out one last word. "FUUUUUCK!" Then everything was black. Pain, all there was to feel was pure white hot pain. Thankfully that did not last long and just shrank down to a dull ache. Feeling for the ground you fine out that instead of the rough and jagged asphalt that you remember it seemed to smooth out and feel cool to the touch, which felt good on the exposed parts of your battered body. Even though it felt good to your body it confused your mind to no extent. Even more confusing was the sounds of some soft clops against the surface. It would not confuse you so much if you were stationed in California since they have horses on base but you are overseas, thousands of miles away from the state. You needed to know what the hell was happening and asses the situation along with controlling it to ensure that nothing will hurt you or your surroundings. Placing your right palm down on the ground along with its partner you push yourself up and bring your left knee underneath you. The pain decides to make itself known once again but not as bad as before. This made you grunt but you held your tongue from trying to curse out the pain. Once in position you took a deep breath of the crisp and clean air, which only added fuel to the confusion fire, and opened an eye. Another flash of pain decided to prod the front of your brain but it was not enough to bring out any verbal disagreement. Blinking to sway the annoying pain away colors started to blur together and started to make very fuzzy shapes. Looking around to find your spectacles you find the black framed glasses on the ground between your arms. Putting them on everything became crystal clear and what you saw made you want to lay back down and close your eyes. All around everything was lush with nature making its presence know to everyone. There was no asphalt nor hangars anywhere in sight, only mountains, hills, trees, flowers and a cobblestone path leading to a mountain. Looking up said mountain you could see something glinting a faint yellow color almost like a cartridge shell shining in the sunlight. Tearing your sight away from the shine you quickly make sure that you did not lose anything and find out that you did not. Releasing a satisfied breath you stand up and stretch letting a few pops worm their way out of your muscles and joints. A pained grunt from behind startles you and causes you to lapse into training. Getting up and expanding your reactionary gap you turn around and raise your M4, only to put it back down once you see who made the noise. They look like that sergeant that you waved to only moments ago. Kneeling down to his side you shake him slightly to try to wake him up. After another grunt you call out to him to see if he would respond. Thankfully he does and asks what happened. You give him the simple answer of "I don't know" which was enough for him to open an eye only to close it just like you did. You go to ask if he would like some help but another grunt sounds off before you even ask. Turning to see the perpetrator you find out that it is an SNCO that you do not recognize. She is a Senior Master Sergeant with what looks like an admin insignia above her nametape. You ask the Staff Sergeant if he is okay enough to get and he confirms that he can, just not that quickly. Giving a nod you move over to the SNCO and go over the same routine you did with the NCO to her. Once everyone was up on their own feet you pulled out your radio and hoped for the best with this call. "Control, Romeo 2. Do you copy?" After releasing the button you pray for a quick response. As usual your prayers come back unanswered and now a huge pit is sitting in your stomach. You try again and again but with each failed try the pit grows denser in your stomach. Placing the radio back in its holster you look up to the sky saying the one word that is on your mind. "Shit." And to make matters worse that clopping noise you heard earlier is getting louder. Which means that someone saw or heard what happened. Which could either screw you or help you immensely. You pray that it is the latter, for the groups sake atleast, but your luck with Murphy has been shit since you were born so you have little hope. I Am a MaintainerYou know what? I thought that taking up this special assignment would be a great experience to tell the eventual grandkids but life tends to act as a boomerang and smash your face, leaving a busted lip as a reminder for what you did. But this time said lip required both staples and stitches. Let me explain what happened to catch you up to speed. Being a Crew Chief has its ups and downs but it all depends about how you handle things. When I was offered that "Top Secret" assignment for the crew and I well, let's just say that we didn't expect this. Most of us, including myself, thought that we would be installing this new hardware to a plane that we knew like the back of our hands. Nope, not even close. Our job was to make sure that the aircraft could handle the little extra weight and see if the hardware would mess with anything critical to the aircraft's safety and performance. After a week of running these little "tests" the craft was declared safe enough to have a go in the testing grounds. Of course that meant that we had to do one last extensive run to make sure, once again, the jet was okay. And after the final test the plane was taxied onto the tarmac. I followed the craft outside and just stood right outside the hangar. After scanning the airfield I saw the airfield crew senior outside to make sure the runway was pristine for the flight. She was a woman that showed her age through her wits not so much through the skin, but it was noticeable. Her name was Farlow, Senior Master Sergeant Farlow, though if you knew her for a while she would let you call her Katie. I found some of myself within her mannerisms towards her airmen. Just like her I would let my crew call me by my first name, Robert, but some of the fresh troops would call me sergeant Johnson. Don't get me wrong it's okay for them to call me by rank but that didn't mean that I would feel comfortable about the rank. I would rather have my troops feel comfortable around their supervisor. After the final test an Airman was discussing something about family matters that one of my troops were having to me. It was something about this being his first base and he has never been farther than a few miles away from family. I knew how that felt when I was an Airman over in Germany but one thing that my supervisor told me was that my family was always with me the entire time, my Air Force family. I told the airman to bring his friend over so I could talk to him. Once the troubled Airman came over I let him tell me what was going on. After he was done I told him about my past and the story my supervisor told me. It cheered him up more than it did to me back then which has a relief to me. Saying his thanks he headed back to the hangar to discuss what his friends will be doing over the weekend. Smiling at the scene I turn around to see if anyone else needs anything but find out that everyone's inside the hangar now, except that cop staring you down. You do not know why but the cops always gave you the creeps whether it was from how they trained or how they recognized the superiors. It just didn't feel normal to me, it was strict and merciless with their rules. Kind of like the Army but with an Air Force nametape instead. But this one didn't give off that vibe as bad as the others do, he kind of looks like he would be one of my troops, if they had a blank face. After a few more moments of the impromptu Mexican standoff he sends a wave my way. Might as well get on his good side. Returning the wave it looks like he nodded or something close to it and resumed whatever he was doing beforehand. Turning around I hear a jet engine turn on and slowly crescendo in noise. With a smile on my face turning to look over to the edge of the runway a see the aircraft that your team was working on just sitting there, waiting for the tower to green light them. While this was going on I grabbed my ear muffs from my leg and placed them over my ears. After a few moments the huge metal bird slowly rolls down the tarmac. "This is it," I mutter out loud to no one. The craft picks up more speed and slowly starts to raise. Once the front wheel lifts off the ground I can see the jet's electronics start to glow as the pilot fiddles with the new technology. But something does not sit well with my gut. 'There better not be anything wrong with it, we did so many checks,' you thought. And just as if Murphy's Law heard your thoughts the plane's electronics dies out for a few seconds then explodes in a giant ball of white light. Adverting my gaze to shield my eyes from the painful light but it proves worthless in saving pain on the eyesight. In fact, it makes it worse by allowing the pain to double every second. Somewhere I hear someone cursing out loud in pain as well, I tired to locate where it came from but I could not take the pain anymore and allowed sweet unconsciousness to claim me. And that leads me to where I am at right now, still unconscious and confused as hell. Thankfully unconsciousness lets its grip on me go and wake to the conscious, painful world. A pained grunt escapes my lips as all of the nerves wake up along with me. Before I can even think all I can hear is the light clinking of metal-on-metal and then the feeling of something or someone shaking your shoulder. Letting out another grunt I take notice that the ground is cool and smooth upon my calloused hands. Out of confusion I asked whatever shook me what happened. The response is a young, but firm, voice saying that they don't know. That worries me, that worries me enough to open an eye only to shut it with a hiss of pain escaping my lips. The young voice asks if I need help but all I can give him is another grunt. Geesh, with this amount of grunting I could pass for a professional tennis player. I hear someone else grunt and then the sound of boots moving away from me to the other tennis player. After a moment of letting my nerves calm down I try to open my eyes again, this time with success. Getting to a kneeling position I take a look around and find out a few problems. None of the familiar hangars are nowhere to be seen, only lush greenery and a mountain range surround you. And that I have been laying on a cobblestone road. Something shines from my peripherals so, of course, I turn towards it to satisfy my curiosity. I notice on one of the mountains that there's something shining on the side of it. A golden color is all I can see but the pain returns in my eyes after looking at the light for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath I push myself up to see if there's anything else I can see from my newly elevated position. The answer that's given to me is a flat no but you do hear something off in the distance. It's sounds a bit like coconut shells hitting the floor but I am not sure about it. Taking notice of a grunt I look down to see a cop tending to an SNCO. Wait, what? Doing a double take I notice that the cop is a young Airman First Class and the SNCO is a Senior Master Sergeant. Wait! Is that Katie?! While my brain is having a midlife crisis the airman slowly helps Katie to her feet and then steps away from her and grabs something from his vest. A radio! That raises my spirits just by the mere sight of it! "That can save us from where ever we are!" I think to myself. The Airman says something to it and all that returns back is static. He tries again and again but fails with each try. He voice is still calm but his mannerisms betrays his calm demeanor. Returning the radio back to his holster he takes a quick look upwards and says with his shoulders the one dreaded word. "Shit." If that's bad then whatever is making that coconut noise hopefully turns our luck around. I mutter a quick prayer hoping that Murphy will not mess with you anymore. FOD ChecksY'know, being a Senior NCO is not what it's cracked up to be. Meeting this, meeting that, brief an Airman or two, and finally more meetings. The meetings wouldn't be that bad if they actually accomplish things, but they don't except this one. Well, it was more like a notice than anything but you get what I'm saying. But what makes me kind of mad about my position is the fact that I don't get field time anymore. Sure I can skip a few things here and there but there's the chance that the paperwork will backup, and I hate paperwork with a burning passion. The reason I first got into this career field is because I love aircraft and without us they would get damaged to the point that all of the original parts would be replaced within a few years instead of decades. Whenever I think about that I wonder about a paradox, the boat one I think. It's the one where if you replaced one plank on a boat every month with a new one after the last old board is replaced is it still the same old boat or is it a new one? Sorry, I just love those types of riddles and paradoxes that make you think deeply. Getting back to what I was talking about, that one 'meeting' told us that the stars wanted to test a new system on our airfield and see if it worked. Someone asked what it was about all they could say was that it would help reduce time it took aircraft to arrive at the battlefield. Suppose to be one of the few new systems we may be getting over the next decade or so, "that's if everything goes according to plan," you think to yourself. After the meeting you returned to the squadron to send out a mass email to the supervisors to let their troops know about something special going to happen soon on base. It just told them to keep the airfield and tarmacs pristine for that week and that you will be checking to make sure. Also in the email you said that there would be a squadron picnic if they excelled on their job. After a week from the meeting the aircraft was being modified for the new system. In about six days the jet was ready for a field test and you wanted to see if there was going to be any trouble for the craft, and also to see how the thing worked. Seriously, the night before the test you almost couldn't sleep because of it. Your husband was worried but you just told him that everything was fine, just something exciting was going to happen at work tomorrow. After getting to work early and getting some paperwork done so you could get some free-time to view the craft you grab a GOV and head out to the tarmac. Once at a decent spot that didn't hinder regular traffic nor present a safety hazard you grabbed your morning coffee and stood next to the vehicle. Trying to cool down the scalding liquid of champions with a breath you take a sip and take in the scenery around you. Mechanics and maintainers scurrying around like squirrels and chipmunks searching for food, aircraft taking off like early birds doing the same and airfield security looking as imposing as guard dogs or angry old men. It's not everyday that you're reminded of the joy and wonder that was the reason you joined in the first place. After awhile of enjoying the scenes playing out before you the vehicles radio sounded off causing you to find out why. "Better be a good reason," you thought to yourself. And a good reason it was, over the radio the mechanics announced over the net that the experiment was ready for its first field test. Barely with composed excitement you scurried to the front of the vehicle to get a view of the aircraft. Ever since the meeting announcing that the base would be the testing grounds of the craft they didn't give you any information of what it looks like minus the fact that they're using on of our common aircraft as the test craft for the system. That's one thing that bothered you a lot but you're enlisted, not officer. Looking over to the hanger that's holding the craft you see a familiar face, SSgt Johnson. A nice family man and mentor to the young airmen. The man was rather tall reaching six and a half feet but he was slightly skinny so he looked like a bit of a willow tree at certain angles. Giving out a chuckle at the image in your head you turn back to the taxiway to see the aircraft detaching from the towing vehicle. After the troops removed themselves from the aircraft the pilot started up the jet. A loud clunk sounded from the craft at first worrying you but the slow whine of the turbines turning changed your view on the issue. After sitting for a moment the jet started to roll out towards the actual runway. Personally you know that the jet was given permission to have the runway cleared for itself when ready so it came to no surprise when it just kept rolling until in position at the one end of the runway. After another moment, the pilot probably readying themselves, the whine of the idle jet started to pick up and turned into a loud roar. About halfway down the runway the jet started to lift its front wheel up and in doing so the electronics on the craft started to crackle to life, taking on a bluish glow around the plane. After being engulfed in the aura the rear wheels left the ground as the jet started to rise at a greater angle. Once at a decent altitude the landing gear disappeared into the jets body but, something inside your gut didn't feel right. As if Murphy himself heard your gut the aura disappeared only to be replaced by a great ball of intense white light. The ball expanded quickly and engulfed everything within your sight, searing your iris' and causing you to fall down and clench your eyes as tight as possible to block out the blinding light. That not only didn't stop it but seemed to have pissed it off causing more pain within your eyes. The pain felt like someone super heated a needle and slowly sunk the piece of metal through your eyes causing you to suck in air. Before you could expel said air you heard someone yelling something, you couldn't tell what because of the pain gripping you senses with an iron grip and not letting go anytime soon. After what felt like forever the grip was released and soon unconsciousness felt sorry for you and decided to give you a hug turning everything into nothingness. Opening your eyes you find out that darkness surrounds you like a blanket. But instead of it being warm it's nothing but ice. Pushing yourself up from a prone position to a standing one. Turning around you just keep seeing this darkness going on forever, not even showing a horizon. "Katie?" Who's calling for me? It sounds so... familiar... "Katie, it's me." Who's me? What's going on? Turning around in circles to view who or what is calling your name you feel fear gripping your heart. Taking one more turn you see an oval gray blob slowly growing in size. Is that what's calling my name? As if it heard your thoughts the calls started up again only this time they were dragged out and lazily called out. "Katie... Katie..." "W-who are y-you?" "It's me, Katie," the gray smudge replied. "W-who's me?" The blob stopped growing at about the size of a human. But then it started to sharpen in detail as if someone was slowly turning a knob on a radio to make the channel clear. Once clear enough to make out certain details what you saw made you drop to your knees and cover your mouth to try and stop the hysteria from spilling out. The image before you was your brother, your dead brother. "M-mikey?!" You half yelled. "Katie..." Your brother put his hands on your shoulders, "it's me, Mikey." It took every ounce of thought to not break down and cry. "W-what are you doing h-here? And where i-is here?" Taking a knee he looked directly into your eyes. "We are safe here, don't worry. And this place does not have a name. For what I am doing here even I do not know." Staring into his eyes made the dam of tears that you've held back break. Smearing everything in their path the tears continued even as you spoke. "I-I'm so, so sorry." You whispered. You go to dip your head in shame but he refuses to let it happen and lifts your head back to his eyes. After a moment he smirks back at you. "Don't worry about it. Neither one of us saw that drunk driver. Quit blaming yourself over something you had no control over. I know you're smarter than that." "I-I know but, it just feels like it's all my fault. I should've checked both ways at that light before moving across." "You know that I forgive you but, I need a favor from you, sis." "A-anything!" He moves both hands to your arms, he feels warm, and proceeds to shake gently. "I need you to wake up." The gentle shaking grows in strength. "Wake up!" You wake with a start but soon start groaning because of the hot pain stabbing your eyeballs. Your ears are ringing a bit but you can make out a young voice asking something. Trying your eyes once again you slowly crack them open and see a blob of a human being leaning over your body. "M-mikey?" You ask shakily. The blob tilts its head and replies with a negative. "No ma'am, I'm A1C Butler of Security Forces. Can you move at all and if not what can't you move?" Asks the airman calmly. You nod your head letting him know that you're alright. "Good, do you need help?" Shaking your head you prove your point by sitting up slowly. It's a slow process but after a moment you're sitting up straight. "See? I'm fine airman. But thank you for the concern." You stare at the airman's face to show your honesty but his face is sending a few red flags to your conscious. You ask him if there's anything wrong but him looking past you for a moment only sets off even more flags. It's like a flag day festival in your conscious right now. "Ma'am you may want to prep yourself for what you're about to see next." You open your mouth to question him but as he stands up you do your best imitation of a fish. Looking around all you can see is bright, lush colors assaulting your field of view. Turning your head like a swivel camera you keep on getting assaulted by the same thing. You start to question whether or not if it's the truth but, you feel something poking your backside. Looking down reveals that you're sitting upon a rocky road of some sort. It's smoother than the tarmac on base and cool to the touch. Standing up from the rocky road you see if there's anything different from this point of view. Your answer is nothing, no signs of any misaligned backgrounds or shiny plastic items. Turning back to the airman you see that he has pulled out a radio. That's good and bad at the same time. Good because of the obvious sense of salvation and bad because of the crushing truth. Pressing a button on the side he says something into it. You can really tell what cause all you can hear is a low rumbling noise. He tries again but his shoulders are starting to lower with each attempt until he clearly says what you've been dreading. "Shit." There's the shattering truth but that rumbling is worrying you more than that. "What is that?" You mumble to yourself.
Control, Romeo 2Control, Romeo 2 "Control, Romeo 2. Initiate RA." "Copy." Taking a deep breath you start one of the many to come checks for my area. See, being in the security sector isn't all that bad but it gets dull after some time. Especially when you have to guard an empty hangar for twelve hours and just struggle to stay awake. But hey, I get to do something a little more important to the mission than just sit behind a computer screen and slowly become a potato. Actually, I hope the dinner meal comes by soon. Can't wait for those mash potatoes and veal. Sorry, the mind tends to run whenever I am hungry. "Hey! Butler!" Yells your Alpha. "Just hold on! Let me finish the check!" You yell back. After signing a form and terminating the check with control you head back over to the ECP for the hangar. Taking off the beret and M4 and placing them on/in the weapon rack and asking Alpha what they wanted. "Dude! Can't believe they're doing some high tech stuff on the base!" Rubbing your eyes you reply with a grunt and take a seat at the second desk since your Alpha is at the other desk. The seat squeaks at the weight being applied on it but it holds. Thank goodness for that, you did not want to take out the plates in your vest, they were a pain to put in. "Aw... You can't tell me that you're not excited about this!" "Oh I'm excited, but doing all of these checks kinda sucks since I gotta study my CDC," you reply while adjusting the vest. Your Alpha notices the discomfort in your face, well more than usual for yourself. "You can take off your vest y'know," replies Alpha while leaning back in their chair. "No, it's bad enough half of the flight doesn't even have their plates in, besides Patrol, I just feel a bit safer and warmer with this on. Don't want to be a DBA like you," you smirk. "Oh ha ha. Very funny Mr. Highspeed," Alpha shoots back. That name seemed to just stick with you throughout your time here at the base. In all honesty you are not that "high-speed" like everyone thinks you are. You just do what you are told to do, whether it is written down on an SSI or Flight Chief says to do it. Everyone else, besides Police, just does their own thing but it is within the guidelines. You are about to retort but Control decides to interrupt you. "Romeo 2, Control. Landline." Sighing you reach for the phone and call Control. "Romeo 2, A1C Butler. You called?" "Yeah, hey uhh Flight Chief wants you to do outside checks along with the internal ones. You got that?" "Is it just because of the new toy we got for the base or something else?" "It's because of the toy." Confirming of the new order you hang up and grab your beret and rifle. Once all secure you head out the door. "Frago?" Asks Alpha. "Frago," you parrot. "Alright, just don't get lost." "Well if I do I know what my means of communication are," you tease. "That was ONE time! I was dead tired that day," replies your embarrassed Alpha. Chuckling at you partners misfortune you head out to do the outside check. Once opening the portal to the outside world and feeling the cool breeze brush against your exposed skin felt like an old friend greeting you. Before you were on the "Graveyard shift", now though you are on the typical day shift. It sucks because you were use to the colder temperatures and not sweating inside of your vest and having to spray some scent blocker on the inside. And like you said before; it sucks, but there is a saying we have for situations like this. Embrace the suck. Chuckling to yourself you round the first corner of the hangar and check to make sure that you can not get inside. But you hear some fellow airman talking about something. They all are wearing the required reflector belt for working on the flight line so they must be the mechanics or maintainers. You honestly can not tell the difference between the two at a glance but it is not your job to tell the difference between them, it is to provide protection to the resources that they work on. And on the occasion yell at them for not cleaning their area after they are done. Shaking your head you continue on while keeping an eye on them... okay, now it is just one. That is fine with you, less airman to give the stink eye to. Wait, not an airman, that is a Staff Sergeant. Well the same rule applies to everyone whether or not if you are enlisted or officer. The sergeant turns to you and just stares at you with the typical cautious gaze that civilians would give to cops. You hate getting that stare but it does not bother you as much as it did at first so you just wave to the sergeant. Thankfully he waves back to you and turns around. "Eh, at least I got a wave out of them this time," you mutter to yourself. Turning back to your task at hand you hear the scream of a jet engine barreling down the runway. Turning to see the jet take off you notice something weird about the aircraft. "Isn't it dangerous to have wires on the outside of the jet?" You ask slowly. Once done with the sentence the jet was just lifting off of the ground. The after burners kicked on as usual but something happened to the wires on the aircraft. The wires started to pulse to life like a heartbeat pumping blood throughout the body. Soon the pulsing was getting erratic and looked like it was out of control. "That don't look good." That was the last thing you said before the aircraft exploded in a bright white light. Out of reflex and training you get to cover and wait for the thunderous sound of an explosion, but it never came. Instead the white light started to burn your eyes, even when you closed your eyes it still burned. Soon the searing pain was too much to keep quiet to yourself and started to scream out the pain, hopeful for the screaming to lessen the pain, but it seemed only to intensify the pain. Collapsing to the ground you scream out one last word. "FUUUUUCK!" Then everything was black. Pain, all there was to feel was pure white hot pain. Thankfully that did not last long and just shrank down to a dull ache. Feeling for the ground you fine out that instead of the rough and jagged asphalt that you remember it seemed to smooth out and feel cool to the touch, which felt good on the exposed parts of your battered body. Even though it felt good to your body it confused your mind to no extent. Even more confusing was the sounds of some soft clops against the surface. It would not confuse you so much if you were stationed in California since they have horses on base but you are overseas, thousands of miles away from the state. You needed to know what the hell was happening and asses the situation along with controlling it to ensure that nothing will hurt you or your surroundings. Placing your right palm down on the ground along with its partner you push yourself up and bring your left knee underneath you. The pain decides to make itself known once again but not as bad as before. This made you grunt but you held your tongue from trying to curse out the pain. Once in position you took a deep breath of the crisp and clean air, which only added fuel to the confusion fire, and opened an eye. Another flash of pain decided to prod the front of your brain but it was not enough to bring out any verbal disagreement. Blinking to sway the annoying pain away colors started to blur together and started to make very fuzzy shapes. Looking around to find your spectacles you find the black framed glasses on the ground between your arms. Putting them on everything became crystal clear and what you saw made you want to lay back down and close your eyes. All around everything was lush with nature making its presence know to everyone. There was no asphalt nor hangars anywhere in sight, only mountains, hills, trees, flowers and a cobblestone path leading to a mountain. Looking up said mountain you could see something glinting a faint yellow color almost like a cartridge shell shining in the sunlight. Tearing your sight away from the shine you quickly make sure that you did not lose anything and find out that you did not. Releasing a satisfied breath you stand up and stretch letting a few pops worm their way out of your muscles and joints. A pained grunt from behind startles you and causes you to lapse into training. Getting up and expanding your reactionary gap you turn around and raise your M4, only to put it back down once you see who made the noise. They look like that sergeant that you waved to only moments ago. Kneeling down to his side you shake him slightly to try to wake him up. After another grunt you call out to him to see if he would respond. Thankfully he does and asks what happened. You give him the simple answer of "I don't know" which was enough for him to open an eye only to close it just like you did. You go to ask if he would like some help but another grunt sounds off before you even ask. Turning to see the perpetrator you find out that it is an SNCO that you do not recognize. She is a Senior Master Sergeant with what looks like an admin insignia above her nametape. You ask the Staff Sergeant if he is okay enough to get and he confirms that he can, just not that quickly. Giving a nod you move over to the SNCO and go over the same routine you did with the NCO to her. Once everyone was up on their own feet you pulled out your radio and hoped for the best with this call. "Control, Romeo 2. Do you copy?" After releasing the button you pray for a quick response. As usual your prayers come back unanswered and now a huge pit is sitting in your stomach. You try again and again but with each failed try the pit grows denser in your stomach. Placing the radio back in its holster you look up to the sky saying the one word that is on your mind. "Shit." And to make matters worse that clopping noise you heard earlier is getting louder. Which means that someone saw or heard what happened. Which could either screw you or help you immensely. You pray that it is the latter, for the groups sake atleast, but your luck with Murphy has been shit since you were born so you have little hope.
I Am a MaintainerYou know what? I thought that taking up this special assignment would be a great experience to tell the eventual grandkids but life tends to act as a boomerang and smash your face, leaving a busted lip as a reminder for what you did. But this time said lip required both staples and stitches. Let me explain what happened to catch you up to speed. Being a Crew Chief has its ups and downs but it all depends about how you handle things. When I was offered that "Top Secret" assignment for the crew and I well, let's just say that we didn't expect this. Most of us, including myself, thought that we would be installing this new hardware to a plane that we knew like the back of our hands. Nope, not even close. Our job was to make sure that the aircraft could handle the little extra weight and see if the hardware would mess with anything critical to the aircraft's safety and performance. After a week of running these little "tests" the craft was declared safe enough to have a go in the testing grounds. Of course that meant that we had to do one last extensive run to make sure, once again, the jet was okay. And after the final test the plane was taxied onto the tarmac. I followed the craft outside and just stood right outside the hangar. After scanning the airfield I saw the airfield crew senior outside to make sure the runway was pristine for the flight. She was a woman that showed her age through her wits not so much through the skin, but it was noticeable. Her name was Farlow, Senior Master Sergeant Farlow, though if you knew her for a while she would let you call her Katie. I found some of myself within her mannerisms towards her airmen. Just like her I would let my crew call me by my first name, Robert, but some of the fresh troops would call me sergeant Johnson. Don't get me wrong it's okay for them to call me by rank but that didn't mean that I would feel comfortable about the rank. I would rather have my troops feel comfortable around their supervisor. After the final test an Airman was discussing something about family matters that one of my troops were having to me. It was something about this being his first base and he has never been farther than a few miles away from family. I knew how that felt when I was an Airman over in Germany but one thing that my supervisor told me was that my family was always with me the entire time, my Air Force family. I told the airman to bring his friend over so I could talk to him. Once the troubled Airman came over I let him tell me what was going on. After he was done I told him about my past and the story my supervisor told me. It cheered him up more than it did to me back then which has a relief to me. Saying his thanks he headed back to the hangar to discuss what his friends will be doing over the weekend. Smiling at the scene I turn around to see if anyone else needs anything but find out that everyone's inside the hangar now, except that cop staring you down. You do not know why but the cops always gave you the creeps whether it was from how they trained or how they recognized the superiors. It just didn't feel normal to me, it was strict and merciless with their rules. Kind of like the Army but with an Air Force nametape instead. But this one didn't give off that vibe as bad as the others do, he kind of looks like he would be one of my troops, if they had a blank face. After a few more moments of the impromptu Mexican standoff he sends a wave my way. Might as well get on his good side. Returning the wave it looks like he nodded or something close to it and resumed whatever he was doing beforehand. Turning around I hear a jet engine turn on and slowly crescendo in noise. With a smile on my face turning to look over to the edge of the runway a see the aircraft that your team was working on just sitting there, waiting for the tower to green light them. While this was going on I grabbed my ear muffs from my leg and placed them over my ears. After a few moments the huge metal bird slowly rolls down the tarmac. "This is it," I mutter out loud to no one. The craft picks up more speed and slowly starts to raise. Once the front wheel lifts off the ground I can see the jet's electronics start to glow as the pilot fiddles with the new technology. But something does not sit well with my gut. 'There better not be anything wrong with it, we did so many checks,' you thought. And just as if Murphy's Law heard your thoughts the plane's electronics dies out for a few seconds then explodes in a giant ball of white light. Adverting my gaze to shield my eyes from the painful light but it proves worthless in saving pain on the eyesight. In fact, it makes it worse by allowing the pain to double every second. Somewhere I hear someone cursing out loud in pain as well, I tired to locate where it came from but I could not take the pain anymore and allowed sweet unconsciousness to claim me. And that leads me to where I am at right now, still unconscious and confused as hell. Thankfully unconsciousness lets its grip on me go and wake to the conscious, painful world. A pained grunt escapes my lips as all of the nerves wake up along with me. Before I can even think all I can hear is the light clinking of metal-on-metal and then the feeling of something or someone shaking your shoulder. Letting out another grunt I take notice that the ground is cool and smooth upon my calloused hands. Out of confusion I asked whatever shook me what happened. The response is a young, but firm, voice saying that they don't know. That worries me, that worries me enough to open an eye only to shut it with a hiss of pain escaping my lips. The young voice asks if I need help but all I can give him is another grunt. Geesh, with this amount of grunting I could pass for a professional tennis player. I hear someone else grunt and then the sound of boots moving away from me to the other tennis player. After a moment of letting my nerves calm down I try to open my eyes again, this time with success. Getting to a kneeling position I take a look around and find out a few problems. None of the familiar hangars are nowhere to be seen, only lush greenery and a mountain range surround you. And that I have been laying on a cobblestone road. Something shines from my peripherals so, of course, I turn towards it to satisfy my curiosity. I notice on one of the mountains that there's something shining on the side of it. A golden color is all I can see but the pain returns in my eyes after looking at the light for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath I push myself up to see if there's anything else I can see from my newly elevated position. The answer that's given to me is a flat no but you do hear something off in the distance. It's sounds a bit like coconut shells hitting the floor but I am not sure about it. Taking notice of a grunt I look down to see a cop tending to an SNCO. Wait, what? Doing a double take I notice that the cop is a young Airman First Class and the SNCO is a Senior Master Sergeant. Wait! Is that Katie?! While my brain is having a midlife crisis the airman slowly helps Katie to her feet and then steps away from her and grabs something from his vest. A radio! That raises my spirits just by the mere sight of it! "That can save us from where ever we are!" I think to myself. The Airman says something to it and all that returns back is static. He tries again and again but fails with each try. He voice is still calm but his mannerisms betrays his calm demeanor. Returning the radio back to his holster he takes a quick look upwards and says with his shoulders the one dreaded word. "Shit." If that's bad then whatever is making that coconut noise hopefully turns our luck around. I mutter a quick prayer hoping that Murphy will not mess with you anymore.
FOD ChecksY'know, being a Senior NCO is not what it's cracked up to be. Meeting this, meeting that, brief an Airman or two, and finally more meetings. The meetings wouldn't be that bad if they actually accomplish things, but they don't except this one. Well, it was more like a notice than anything but you get what I'm saying. But what makes me kind of mad about my position is the fact that I don't get field time anymore. Sure I can skip a few things here and there but there's the chance that the paperwork will backup, and I hate paperwork with a burning passion. The reason I first got into this career field is because I love aircraft and without us they would get damaged to the point that all of the original parts would be replaced within a few years instead of decades. Whenever I think about that I wonder about a paradox, the boat one I think. It's the one where if you replaced one plank on a boat every month with a new one after the last old board is replaced is it still the same old boat or is it a new one? Sorry, I just love those types of riddles and paradoxes that make you think deeply. Getting back to what I was talking about, that one 'meeting' told us that the stars wanted to test a new system on our airfield and see if it worked. Someone asked what it was about all they could say was that it would help reduce time it took aircraft to arrive at the battlefield. Suppose to be one of the few new systems we may be getting over the next decade or so, "that's if everything goes according to plan," you think to yourself. After the meeting you returned to the squadron to send out a mass email to the supervisors to let their troops know about something special going to happen soon on base. It just told them to keep the airfield and tarmacs pristine for that week and that you will be checking to make sure. Also in the email you said that there would be a squadron picnic if they excelled on their job. After a week from the meeting the aircraft was being modified for the new system. In about six days the jet was ready for a field test and you wanted to see if there was going to be any trouble for the craft, and also to see how the thing worked. Seriously, the night before the test you almost couldn't sleep because of it. Your husband was worried but you just told him that everything was fine, just something exciting was going to happen at work tomorrow. After getting to work early and getting some paperwork done so you could get some free-time to view the craft you grab a GOV and head out to the tarmac. Once at a decent spot that didn't hinder regular traffic nor present a safety hazard you grabbed your morning coffee and stood next to the vehicle. Trying to cool down the scalding liquid of champions with a breath you take a sip and take in the scenery around you. Mechanics and maintainers scurrying around like squirrels and chipmunks searching for food, aircraft taking off like early birds doing the same and airfield security looking as imposing as guard dogs or angry old men. It's not everyday that you're reminded of the joy and wonder that was the reason you joined in the first place. After awhile of enjoying the scenes playing out before you the vehicles radio sounded off causing you to find out why. "Better be a good reason," you thought to yourself. And a good reason it was, over the radio the mechanics announced over the net that the experiment was ready for its first field test. Barely with composed excitement you scurried to the front of the vehicle to get a view of the aircraft. Ever since the meeting announcing that the base would be the testing grounds of the craft they didn't give you any information of what it looks like minus the fact that they're using on of our common aircraft as the test craft for the system. That's one thing that bothered you a lot but you're enlisted, not officer. Looking over to the hanger that's holding the craft you see a familiar face, SSgt Johnson. A nice family man and mentor to the young airmen. The man was rather tall reaching six and a half feet but he was slightly skinny so he looked like a bit of a willow tree at certain angles. Giving out a chuckle at the image in your head you turn back to the taxiway to see the aircraft detaching from the towing vehicle. After the troops removed themselves from the aircraft the pilot started up the jet. A loud clunk sounded from the craft at first worrying you but the slow whine of the turbines turning changed your view on the issue. After sitting for a moment the jet started to roll out towards the actual runway. Personally you know that the jet was given permission to have the runway cleared for itself when ready so it came to no surprise when it just kept rolling until in position at the one end of the runway. After another moment, the pilot probably readying themselves, the whine of the idle jet started to pick up and turned into a loud roar. About halfway down the runway the jet started to lift its front wheel up and in doing so the electronics on the craft started to crackle to life, taking on a bluish glow around the plane. After being engulfed in the aura the rear wheels left the ground as the jet started to rise at a greater angle. Once at a decent altitude the landing gear disappeared into the jets body but, something inside your gut didn't feel right. As if Murphy himself heard your gut the aura disappeared only to be replaced by a great ball of intense white light. The ball expanded quickly and engulfed everything within your sight, searing your iris' and causing you to fall down and clench your eyes as tight as possible to block out the blinding light. That not only didn't stop it but seemed to have pissed it off causing more pain within your eyes. The pain felt like someone super heated a needle and slowly sunk the piece of metal through your eyes causing you to suck in air. Before you could expel said air you heard someone yelling something, you couldn't tell what because of the pain gripping you senses with an iron grip and not letting go anytime soon. After what felt like forever the grip was released and soon unconsciousness felt sorry for you and decided to give you a hug turning everything into nothingness. Opening your eyes you find out that darkness surrounds you like a blanket. But instead of it being warm it's nothing but ice. Pushing yourself up from a prone position to a standing one. Turning around you just keep seeing this darkness going on forever, not even showing a horizon. "Katie?" Who's calling for me? It sounds so... familiar... "Katie, it's me." Who's me? What's going on? Turning around in circles to view who or what is calling your name you feel fear gripping your heart. Taking one more turn you see an oval gray blob slowly growing in size. Is that what's calling my name? As if it heard your thoughts the calls started up again only this time they were dragged out and lazily called out. "Katie... Katie..." "W-who are y-you?" "It's me, Katie," the gray smudge replied. "W-who's me?" The blob stopped growing at about the size of a human. But then it started to sharpen in detail as if someone was slowly turning a knob on a radio to make the channel clear. Once clear enough to make out certain details what you saw made you drop to your knees and cover your mouth to try and stop the hysteria from spilling out. The image before you was your brother, your dead brother. "M-mikey?!" You half yelled. "Katie..." Your brother put his hands on your shoulders, "it's me, Mikey." It took every ounce of thought to not break down and cry. "W-what are you doing h-here? And where i-is here?" Taking a knee he looked directly into your eyes. "We are safe here, don't worry. And this place does not have a name. For what I am doing here even I do not know." Staring into his eyes made the dam of tears that you've held back break. Smearing everything in their path the tears continued even as you spoke. "I-I'm so, so sorry." You whispered. You go to dip your head in shame but he refuses to let it happen and lifts your head back to his eyes. After a moment he smirks back at you. "Don't worry about it. Neither one of us saw that drunk driver. Quit blaming yourself over something you had no control over. I know you're smarter than that." "I-I know but, it just feels like it's all my fault. I should've checked both ways at that light before moving across." "You know that I forgive you but, I need a favor from you, sis." "A-anything!" He moves both hands to your arms, he feels warm, and proceeds to shake gently. "I need you to wake up." The gentle shaking grows in strength. "Wake up!" You wake with a start but soon start groaning because of the hot pain stabbing your eyeballs. Your ears are ringing a bit but you can make out a young voice asking something. Trying your eyes once again you slowly crack them open and see a blob of a human being leaning over your body. "M-mikey?" You ask shakily. The blob tilts its head and replies with a negative. "No ma'am, I'm A1C Butler of Security Forces. Can you move at all and if not what can't you move?" Asks the airman calmly. You nod your head letting him know that you're alright. "Good, do you need help?" Shaking your head you prove your point by sitting up slowly. It's a slow process but after a moment you're sitting up straight. "See? I'm fine airman. But thank you for the concern." You stare at the airman's face to show your honesty but his face is sending a few red flags to your conscious. You ask him if there's anything wrong but him looking past you for a moment only sets off even more flags. It's like a flag day festival in your conscious right now. "Ma'am you may want to prep yourself for what you're about to see next." You open your mouth to question him but as he stands up you do your best imitation of a fish. Looking around all you can see is bright, lush colors assaulting your field of view. Turning your head like a swivel camera you keep on getting assaulted by the same thing. You start to question whether or not if it's the truth but, you feel something poking your backside. Looking down reveals that you're sitting upon a rocky road of some sort. It's smoother than the tarmac on base and cool to the touch. Standing up from the rocky road you see if there's anything different from this point of view. Your answer is nothing, no signs of any misaligned backgrounds or shiny plastic items. Turning back to the airman you see that he has pulled out a radio. That's good and bad at the same time. Good because of the obvious sense of salvation and bad because of the crushing truth. Pressing a button on the side he says something into it. You can really tell what cause all you can hear is a low rumbling noise. He tries again but his shoulders are starting to lower with each attempt until he clearly says what you've been dreading. "Shit." There's the shattering truth but that rumbling is worrying you more than that. "What is that?" You mumble to yourself.
