An Airman, An NCO and An SNCO

Y'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.