Mobius Squadron: Shattered Skies

Chapter 55: Mobius

Jean-Louis

The briefing room of Megalith snapped to attention when Jean-Louis entered. He had come from the hangar, after overseeing a brief painting frenzy. If ISAF wanted to play tricks, Jean-Louis would return the favour in full. "At ease" he called while maintaining his stride to the front of the room. All of the pilots sat back down. After the harrowing training regime, there were only 15 of them left. Jean-Louis had given no favouritism, preferring a pure meritocracy when it came to selecting pilots. "As you all would've noticed, Megalith has been activated. This means that we can expect an ISAF assault any second. From now on, we will be at constant alert and ready to scramble at the first radar detection of an ISAF plane". He paused to gauge the reactions of the pilots assembled. He had chosen them for their skill, but most were still untried in combat. Sighing, Jean-Louis continued. "It's been confirmed that the Yellow Squadron was shot down over Farbanti. So until further notice, we are Yellow Squadron. I will be Yellow 1. Everyone else pick your number. After that's done, go to the hangars and standby in your Terminators. I know this may be a dangerous situation. But believe me, together, we shall guarantee the continued prosperity of Erusea for future generations!". Jean-Louis' rousing speech finished, and was met with a round of applause from all the assembled pilots. The 16 of them then field out. Jean-Louis smirked at the sight as they made their way to the hangar. ISAF, he thought while climbing into the cockpit of his own Su-37 in the distinctive paint job of the Aquila, do your worst.

Mobius 1

The walk to the hangar was desolate. No one running around, no calls of banter between pilots. Just the steady whine of jet engines spooling up and the metallic sounds of munitions being loaded in. Mobius held his helmet in his hands and was studying it. The blue coat of paint had been recently reapplied, as had the Ribbon Insignia and the wording 'The Ribbon Fighter'. Mobius couldn't help but feel he should toss it aside. At this point, he was more a myth than a man. Everybody knew the Ribbon, but barely anyone knew the real Mobius 1. An E-767 passed down the taxiway, followed by seven F-22s. ISAF was going all out on this. Mobius didn't even bother to look at who was flying. All he knew was that at the end of this they would most likely be dead. Everyone trusted him as their guardian angel, but he'd already failed so many times. The original Viper 9 during the first encounter with Stonehenge, Lieutenant Balez during Operation Bunker Shot, all those civilians in San Salvacion who had died because Mobius had missed a target. Walking around, he had seen the devastation of the XSDBs that had missed and hit elsewhere. Even smart bombs were fallible. Then Mobius' thoughts turned to the 12th SOC. They were probably somewhere on the ocean near Megalith right now. Hell, they might even be inside the superweapon at that moment, which would make their odds of getting out even lower. They were great fighters, but couldn't hold against what would certainly be an overwhelming Erusean force. They would also be counting on Mobius to fly in and neutralise Megalith before they were all gunned down. So many people, and so many hopes, all resting on the shoulders of someone who had turned 22 just two weeks ago. It was a strange world. Mobius entered the hangar, just as a bunch of ordinance techs walked out. Most of them passed him in silence, but one or two reached out and wished him good luck or just shook his hand. They too rested their hopes on Mobius. Entering the hangar, he saw that it was practically barren. No clutter or anything like that, just an F-22 in the centre, and a concerned crew chief off to the side. The two just stared at each other for a moment, before the speakers all across the airfield came alive with the voice of an ISAF general. "Good morning troops. I have an important announcement. In one hour, each one of you will take part in the most important mission in our history - a mission that will result in the defeat of the vile enemy who has brought chaos to our continent. Although we are from different nations and of different races, we have fought, suffered and died together, fighting for what we believe in - fighting for freedom. Today, we shall gather for our final battle, to liberate our beautiful continent and restore freedom to our people, our friends, and our families. Our victory will herald the beginning of a new era of prosperity for the Usean Continent. Victory will be ours! We shall return peace to our people, and win back our freedom, and our future! The skies belong to everyone! Now, let us take back our shattered skies!" With that, the speakers returned to silence, replaced with the noise of high performance jet engines. "Some speech" Rebecca commented. Mobius just nodded, readjusting the helmet in his hands. "Mobius," his crew chief said. Mobius stopped and looked at her. "What are you planning on doing?" she asked, her voice now barely a whisper. Mobius sighed before answering. "Get everyone I possibly can home alive. If I can do that, then The Ribbon Fighter can live on, regardless of what happens to Mobius 1" the ace stated. Rebecca nodded, before speaking up once more. "I ... I think I know something that might change your mind on that". Mobius turned to her. "What?" he asked. He got no spoken response. Before he could repeat the question as his patience started to run thin, Rebecca leaned in and pressed her lips against his. They stayed like that for a bit before Rebecca broke it off. "Please don't die. Life would be pretty boring" Rebecca managed a chuckle after that. The callback to their first meeting wasn't lost on Mobius. He nodded. "I won't die" he assured her before sliding the helmet over his head and flipping down the visor and doing up the oxygen mask. He climbed into the canopy and set the Raptor through the familiar preflights. Mobius guided the F-22 along the taxiway. When he looked on either side, he couldn't believe his eyes. The residents of San Salvacion had lined up along the taxiway and runway to farewell The Ribbon Fighter. There were children waving and women trying to keep control of their children. There were men shaking their fist in the air in support. Then there was a group of old men, veteran fighter pilots of some previous war, saluting as he passed. Mobius returned the salutes. Trying to keep himself from being overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment. <<Tower, Mobius 1. Permission to takeoff>> Mobius transmitted to the control tower. The loudspeakers around the base had been linked to the radio for the benefit of the assembled crowd. <<Mobius 1, you're cleared to go. Give 'em hell Ribbon>> the tower controller answered back. Mobius opened the throttle to afterburner as the crowd started cheering as the Raptor accelerated down the runway. The joystick was pulled back and the fighter pulled up into the sky. Once Mobius had retracted the gear and was high enough, he pulled a barrel roll before turning away towards Megalith. Now, it was time to save the entire continent from falling asteroid fragments by flying through 4 separate tunnels in an F-22 Raptor. No big deal right?