//------------------------------// // Suit Up // Story: Skies Ablaze // by Jetstream S //------------------------------// The fourth hangar of Ramstein Air Base was alive with the sounds of personnel, jet engines, and the general metallics of mechanical tools. The morning brought with it a cool, dry air, along with a sunrise that could have rivaled the beauty of a West Texas sunset. The runway crews had long since finished their sweep, ensuring that no rocks or pebbles were available to be sucked into air intakes. So far, it was just a normal day at the office for many. After hearing that their flight lead was gone, Vince hadn't taken the news well. He had retired to his bunk after the briefing and voraciously searched the computer for any information regarding him. The label of ‘traitor’ and ‘deserter’ had been tossed around a lot, especially on the base’s local chat feed. He had promptly thrown the laptop out the second story window. Gary, however, being the more level headed of the two, had gone to the hangar to check, check, and re-check his plane over and over again to make sure he’d be ready for the flight to Miami. His plane had always been a way to distract him from the problems that came with being one of the best pilots the United States had to offer. The most common being the sole squadron to call on to perform the most dangerous missions on the Air Force's rap sheet. But now, he wasn't sure if his favorite pass time would be enough to quell his growing anxiety. The feeling of hopelessness was creeping up his spine like mistletoe on a tree, and it was robbing him of his nerve. No matter how experienced the rest of them were, the fact of the matter was that X-Ray squadron was lost without their leader. Gary had just finished checking the main compressor blade when a familiar voice called up to him from the ground. "So, do you really think Allen would abandon his squadron?" Gary looked down, smiling as he saw who had addressed him. "Of course not," he answered. "Do you?" The woman shook her head, letting her long brown hair tussle a little. "Aleah!" She turned around to see her flight leader addressing her. Gary looked up, and at the sight of him, let his smile turn rigid. His gut churned, and the muscles in his back quivered. This was the ONE man he did not want to see right now. But with all things considered and Aleah's sudden appearance, Gary knew he should have expected to see him in trail. "Yea?" Aleah asked, her tone notably sour. Gary mentally laughed. Major Randy "Raid" Shutter, the flight leader of Suit Squadron, was as brash and arrogant as a pilot could be. Gary's history with him dated back to before flight school, at the beginning of basic training. They had always been polar opposites, and their personal clashes often got them in trouble with the higher ups. However, after Beast week, they had learned to cooperate as a team at least until Basic Training was over. Randy looked up at Gary, scowling a little. "I need you to go and get your plane prepped, we're heading out on a reconnaissance mission soon, and it's going to be a long haul," he sighed. Aleah huffed, rolling her eyes. "Where to this time?" "Southern Bermuda Triangle." She looked back up at Gary with an inquiring expression. Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Major Allen's disappearance... Would it?" Gary had returned to his plane, keeping his ears firmly locked on their conversation. He nearly dropped his pressure gauge when he heard Allen's name be mentioned in a reconnaissance mission. Standing from the front tire, he returned his tools to their proper places and walked up to the two. "Coulda swore I heard you mention a reconnaissance mission for my flight leader." Aleah was silent. "And what, his number four man isn't invited?" He asked harshly, gesturing to himself. "What about Vince? Charles? Don't they get to look for their flight lead?" Randy stepped up, puffing his chest a bit. "Lieutenant, I suggest you watch your tone when addressing a Captain. She might not take it kindly." Aleah stepped forward, an arm's length from Gary. "Gary, I'm sorry, but your plane isn't equipped to handle a reconnaissance mission into the Triangle. If Allen was lost, then that means your plane might be just as vulnerable. The higher ups didn't want to take the risk of losing the rest of you." Gary was silent, looking at her as if she were an idiot. "And Charles? He followed Allen a hundred miles into the Triangle and and yet he made it out just fine!" "Because he turned around before he hit whatever Allen did. Of course his plane was affected when they entered the Triangle, but whatever that storm was, it seemed to have brought down Allen." Gary huffed and turned his back to her, walking over to the hangar door. He turned to face them just as he reached and opened it. "You better not leave without me." He slammed the door behind him, making the metal walls rattle all around. A white stallion entered the palace Armory and ran to the far left wall. It was dark, but the moonlight that poured through the skylight provided enough light to see what he was after. He ran around several cases of armor, caches of weapons, and multiple sections of bookcases. Skidding to a halt, he opened a particular locker, revealing a set of golden armor gilded with a jade symbol on the chestplate - the symbol of the Royal Guard Scouts. "Whos here!?" A voice called from the entrance. The white stallion quickly shut the cabinet that housed the armor with the softest click he could manage, and ducked behind the nearest weapon rack. The voice was that of a mare, and he could hear the soft click of her hoof guards on the marble floor as she began searching. "You know," she called out, "being a batpony has its advantages..." The stallion's breath caught in his throat as he realized his hiding spot was virtually useless now. "Why hello there, Jetstream." The stallion yelped loudly as the voice sounded directly in his ear, and the warm breath pooled over his cheek.  he spun to see large, green eyes glowing in front of his face. "Damnit, Shadow!" He yelled, clutching his chest. "You know I hate that!" The batpony laughed and smiled, letting her fangs glint slightly in the moonlight. "So, what brings you to the armory at this time of night?" Jetstream had his composure back, flapping his wings a few times to relieve the tension. He turned, nearly flicking her face with his tail. "Classified," he said dryly. "Oh please," Shadow scoffed. "You know the Lunar Guard is supposed to handle the night ops." Jetstream reopened the locker and grabbed the chestplate, donning it with a swift motion of his wings and forelegs. "Too bad none of you are fast enough to do what needs to be done tonight," he stated with a smirk. He struggled to connect the harness that would hold the armor around the small of his back, and a tender touch of Shadow's silver clad hooves helped him slip it on. He shuddered, blushing as he felt her touch dangerously close to his flanks. He jerked away, looking at her with surprise. "Uh.. Thanks." Shadow's eyes seemed to glow a little brighter in the moonlight, and she flashed a toothy smile that made him shiver. "No problem, Jet." The way she called him by his nickname seemed to smolder with heat, yet seemed sarcastic at the same time. He looked at her questioningly before returning his gaze to the locker. He retrieved his helmet, looking back and finding that Shadow had disappeared. He scoffed. "Typical." He put the helmet on, spreading his wings and launching through the open skylight. ~~~ "Major Jetstream, do you know what must be done?" Celestia asked him. "Yes, Princess. I will proceed to the Wonderbolt academy and gather information on what has appeared there." Celestia and Luna nodded their heads, and they each signed an order for his mission. "Princesses, with all due respect, why wasn't a member of the Lunar Guard assigned this task?" Luna straightened up, her face taking a serious look that made him shiver. "Because in this situation, the speed of a pegasus will be needed, and this object that we have seen is far faster than any batpony is capable of." Jetstream nodded, turning to go. "And one more thing, Major." He stopped, turning to face Celestia. "I don't want anypony knowing about this mission. I only want you to see what's going on and report back to us." "Yes, Your Majesty." He turned and took off, racing for the armory. ~~~ Twenty minutes. He smiled, knowing he had broken his previous record of twenty two. Jetstream had traveled halfway across Equestria in less than half an hour. But of course, this time he had caught a good tailwind and was boosted a bit. The night time air was crisp and cool, and the temperature was perfect for high altitude flying. It was one of those nights that just made it great to be a pegasus. As he soared over a familiar mountain, he caught a glimmer of white in the distance. He could tell that it was moonlight reflecting off of something, but he was too far to make it out. As he got closer, the object sitting on the academy tarmac was still unrecognizable. It was massive, at least fifty times his size. Reaching the grounds, he circled high overhead, watching the moonlit ground. The large object was on the ground, unmoving. He assumed it was either off or asleep, unaware if it was sentient or not. What kind of animal or machine is that? Jetstream asked himself, stopping his circling and hovering. He looked all around, seeing nothing else that could've caused alarm for the princesses. As if that thing down there wasn't enough... He descended slowly, trying to keep his wing beats as quiet as possible to not alarm or startle the large beast. He perched on top of the nearest building's roof, eyes locked on the massive figure. I don't hear breathing... I don't see any movement, and nopony seems to be disturbed by its presence. Jetstream's thinking was interrupted by a sudden thud from under him. Fearing he had been discovered, he took off in a beeline for the nearest cloud. Aleah sat in the cockpit of her RF-16, going over her pre flight checks. Her helmet blocked out most of her engine's noise, but the constant heavy hum was getting to her as always, and her temper was getting frail. "Suit Flight, check in. This is King, flat top rolling." Randy's voice was like a nail on a chalkboard to her, and she gritted her teeth. "Heart, flat top rolling," she replied sternly, pushing the throttle lever forward lightly. "Diamond, flat top rolling." The new voice was of Aleah's wingman, Logan "Diamond" Thomason. He was relatively new to the squadron, but already had two MiG kills under his belt from the recent operations in Africa. Being the youngest of the squadron, he was always the butt of everyone's joke. But his skill in the air made him a force to be reckoned with on the training grounds. "Spade, flat top rolling." Zane "Spade" Hillard, the newest member of Suit squadron, was also the most combat experienced. He had transferred from Egypt Squadron, an F-15C squadron stationed in Northern Sudan, to the new reconnaissance RF-16s. While on his second tour, he had claimed four air to air victories; All with his cannon. He had something against missiles, but nobody ever asked him why because his skill in a close end fight was more than enough to compensate. To top it off, Randy had personally asked him to be his new wingman. "Hey Spade, how's the knee?" Aleah could hear some feedback in her headset, and she adjusted her mic. "Better. Those yoga lessons are paying off," Zane replied in his signature baritone voice. "Yea I gotta get in on that, I hear the ladies love that shit." Logan's energetic voice was always a welcome break in the tension during missions, but frequently landed him in hot water with the higher ups. "Quiet you three. Prepare for takeoff. Tandem, and don't falter formation. We have an image to uphold." Aleah's smile from Logan had twisted into a sneer as Randy's unwelcome voice came across her helmet. She formed up alongside Logan and Zane, parting to stay on Randy's right wing and keep Zane on his left. A classic Fingertip Formation. “Tower this is Suit Squadron, we’re ready for takeoff,” Randy called over the radio. As Aleah waited for the tower’s confirmation, a glint of metal in her overhead rearview mirrors caught her eye. There, pulling up behind the four RF-16s, was familiar looking F-35. The rudders were slanted far steeper than a normal F-35, and the fuselage was more trapezoidal than smooth. Before it registered, Gary’s voice over the radio brought a smile to her lips. “Tower this is X-Ray Four. I will be flying with Suit Squadron today.” Randy nearly jumped out of his ejection seat. “X-Ray Four, I have not authorized any such action with my squadr-” Another voice cut his off. “On the contrary, I have authorized his egress with your squadron.” Colonel Rave’s voice was finally a welcome one to Gary. “X-Ray Four, your callsign for the duration of this mission will be “Jack”. You will take Club’s place as King’s Wingman and fly top cover for the search operation.” Randy was silent as his wingman was replaced against his will. “Now, go find Allen. You have permission for takeoff. Good luck, and keep an eye out for enemy forces patrolling the area.” Randy watched as Gary took position a few hundred feet behind him on the runway. “Kid, you’ll do what I say, when and exactly how I say when we’re up there, got it?” Gary nodded instinctively. “Yes sir.” “Alright then,” Randy said as he pulled down his helmet’s visor. “Suit Squadron, take off!” The roar of five turbofan engines echoed through the base as Suit Squadron accelerated into the skies in search of Allen.