Prologue:
The sky was ours, and only ours. It was wonderful. Nobody could ever remove me from my place of inner peace. The floating sensation was magical, almost surreal at times. Gliding effortlessly through the air, while inside such a huge machine is a feeling I can draw no equal to. Some feelings cannot simply be put into words, but rather, must be experienced for themselves. The only time I felt stress-free was in the air, floating alongside the clouds, their billowy white shapes rising to the zenith of vision, into the darkness known as space. Someday I would like to visit there; my friends in the space program say it is truly wonderful. Maybe once I get some spare change I’ll invest in astronaut training. Someday Renee and I will go. Someday we are going to ascend into space; we are going to invert the world as we know it. We are going to see our home from thousands of miles away. We are going to someday. Until then, I’ll still be content with being the guide of this beautiful machine, and still observe the space above with an ever-increasing sense of wonder.
~June 24th
Beacons:
The flight was like the rest; a simple takeoff into clear skies, reaching 36,000 feet in roughly 30 minutes. The clouds in the sky weren’t thunderclouds, but were thin wisps of condensed particles, as if someone had put a thin veil below us that we would sail over, giving us just enough visibility to still see the ground, but providing a little shade for the people on the ground. It was one of the nicest days I had ever seen. The plane glided through the air with unmatched ease. The sun was high above us, a tad askew to center sky. Zero turbulence, zero distractions. Just pure bliss. Then it happened. The warning lights erupted with color and sound. I had my copilot Randy probing the control board for an answer. Then, as if by some sort of coincidence, everything stopped. The sirens went off. Normality resumed. Like nothing even happened. But I couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t right. Today may be a different day. Suddenly, the lights came on once more. I said to the copilot “What do you think?” to which he replied with a casual “Probably just a minor malfunction. Everything is fine. All levels are good, fuel isn’t leaking. I don’t underst—“. Suddenly, I saw it coming. I had to shout loud for him to hear me over the noise “Here, wait a minute! Damn it!”, and then I banked hard right, avoiding it by ten meters. It was close. Very close. We must be here.
I could see it as clear as crystal, looming off in the distance. Our target was now in sight. Through the pair of mini binoculars on board I could see its frame outline: tall, black, made of concrete Dismal, almost depressing, if I could describe it that way. Strange how such an emotive description overcame me while facing such a horrid sight. This target had been on my list for some time, but we just now got adequate resources to attack. Finally; another one down, and then this war may indeed be over. After all these years I may have the chance to do something I have dreamed of since I was young; be the hero. Be the guy who saved the entire platoon, saved innocent lives from harm. I wanted to be that guy. I told me copilot “Here we go, man. We’re goin’ in. We’re goin’ down.” Finally. I have waited so long to say those words. I look down before our descent at my favorite picture of me and Amy. I pick it up, give it a quick kiss for good luck, and place it back in its place. Then I point our nose towards the Earth, and we dove out of the sky, in our graceful war machine.
The clouds switched with us, and soon we were visible to those on land. The roar of our engines filled the landscape as we crept closer and closer to our target. Of course, the citizens below us just wanted it all to be over. Neither they nor I wanted to have to be here. While I love my duty, I feel I am violating people’s rights by invading them, whether or not for their benefit. It gives me the sensation that I don’t belong, and aren’t welcome, though they don’t mind at this point. They just want it to all be over. They just want their lives back. We get closer to the fortress, and it becomes clear that soon it will all be over. After this raid, they will surrender. I know they will. They have to; this is their hub. 5 miles and closing. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins, solidifying the end of this war. 4 miles. Heavy breathing, engaging missile, informing the copilot. 3 miles, and I can see it so clear. I put my finger on the trigger. 2 miles. My copilot asks if I’m ready. 1 mile. “FIRE!”. A direct hit. Circling back three more times, flying through a hail of gunfire, I send every last missile I have into the enemy’s hub. Soon, nothing but flames and tangled remains of the structure are left. “Great work! Now let’s go home,” my copilot says. I turn to fly back to base. Suddenly, the sound came. The worst sound. We have been engaged. They got a missile off the ground, and we have been engaged. I can hear it closing in. Oh, God. This isn’t over.
