UCAC Ch. 03

"You think he'd pull something like this again?" Liam asked, growing concern.

"It's only a matter of time, really. I'm his next target..." I sighed.

"Oh my God man... Ay, since you looked out for me on that field, I'll look out for you sevenfold!" Liam said, extending out his hand. I firmly grasped it.

"This also means we're gonna have to look out for Everette." I added.

"That's fine." Liam said.

"Let's get some grub." I smiled.

We got up, heading down to the Mess Hall which was packed to the brim with hungry soldiers. We fixed plates and sat down at a table. Not long after, Marcell and Milan sat at the table, Marcell looking particularly giddy.

"Guess what!" He said, slamming his tray on the table.

"What?" I asked.

"I get to meet the new Wingers today! They'll be on their way being a part of our squad next quarter." Marcell said, full of excitement.

"Cool! What do you know about them?" I asked.

"There's gonna be another Kestrel Winger and another Hobby Winger." He said.

"Really?" Liam asked, growing excited.

"Yeah! I also heard that a third Hiero winger is being trained for our team...another Laggar Winger..." Marcell responded, not sounding unenthused.

"Damn..." I said, it truly being a blow.

"So we have, Saker, Lanner, Gyr and there'll be a new Laggar..." Liam said, trying to keep tabs in his head.

"That places you closer to Per." Marcell said, pointing at me.

"I'm not accepting Second Wing..." I said, arms folded.

"Why?" Marcell asked, upset by this.

"News has spread all around Base..." Milan noted.

"Really?" I asked, mortified.

"Yeah... Why don't you wanna be Second Wing. That means you'll be closer to Per's command." Milan asked, confused.

"We know why I'm not taking the job..." I sighed.

"I don't blame you but we need the organization, Denver. What if the mission is like the Italy mission and we won't have Lead Wing?" I asked.

"I'm sorry..." I said, not cracking under the pressure.

"What has happened to you? I remember you used to be the same person under the suit...now you're all soft and passive aggressive and shit with concerns for others. Why?" Milan asked, deeply concerned.

"It was that last mission. I was right by Chance when he got shot to pieces... I still haven't gotten over that shit." I said.

"Guys..." Marcell said, pointing to the table where Everette sat. He sat alone, constantly looking at the door for Jarvis's arrival. In fact, Jarvis was nowhere to be seen. All I could do was roll my eyes, knowing that it was only a matter of time before one of us got hurt. I couldn't shake the feeling it was going to be either me or Everette and Jarvis would be the cause.

"Poor kid..." Milan sighed.

"How fucking old is he?" I asked, truly frustrated with his naive actions.

"He's," Marcell began not really certain, "Nineteen?"

"Nineteen? I thought he was twenty one or twenty two. He's a fucking baby! That talent though..." Milan said, completely shocked.

"Yeah, he and Liam are roughly the same age. And yeah," I said turning to "Milan, to be nineteen with that type of talent is unreal. You know we gotta watch out for him. Jarvis will eat him up alive..."

"I just want to know Jarvis's game." Liam said, thinking deeply. I looked at him sternly, sending the message that he should not speak on the matter any further. He heeded it, not uttering another word.

"His game...I don't know but be on your toes." Marcell advised.

"So," I began, "You really think there will be a new Laggar Winger?"

"I really think so. When I went back over the original team files, this is supposed to be a team of ten. Right now, we're at seven. The smallest team will be the Forest Winger team which is understandable." Marcell responded.

"Any details on the stats of the dude who will be Laggar?" I continued.

"Rumor has it that Cap has been overseeing his training. They're taking their time to cook him, but he's about six foot two, one hundred ninety pounds...someone from Burma..." Marcell smiled.

"Oooou, he came a long way." I said astounded.

"They say he's really young...like reeeaaaallly young! Like, sixteen or seventeen but from what I've heard, he's a rare talent, comparable to Everette." Marcell said.

"Oh no way...Like, we're all kids but he's really a fucking kid then! Like a kid, kid!" I said.

"Yeah... He may be good but they better let him bake for another year because I just don't trust anyone that age." Milan responded.

Marcell's eyes wandered off, tracking something that hovered near me.

"Hey guys." A shrill, youthful voice said. I turned, seeing it was Everette, obviously tired of sitting alone.

"Hey..." Milan said back. I looked at the boy menacingly before deciding to pay him no mind. He sat down, making sure to put a body width of distance between us. I scooted over even more, making it clear that I planned on giving him wide girth...period.

"So how are you all?" Everette asked with a smile.

"Good." It seemed everyone said simultaneously. I remained silent.

"Your boyfriend isn't here ain't he?" Milan teased.

"Boyfriend?" Everette responded, startled, unsure what Milan meant. It warranted a look from everyone at the table. Milan shook his head.

"Don't worry about it." He said hoping to reassure the dim boy. It wasn't that simple. Both Liam and I looked at each other knowing Everette's response was deeper than that. Of course the boy was dim, which made it obvious that he was harboring some feelings he had yet to address... However, it was not a concern of mine. He could struggle by himself.

"So how've you been?" Marcell asked Everette, giving me some serious side eye. A thin smile came across my face.

"I've been good. We never got a chance to talk about the tournament! I have some questions." Everette said.

Everyone grew tense, especially me.

"Ask away!" Marcell said, despite being nervous. Everette turned to me, nervous.

"How'd you know those Forest Hawkers could cloak?" He asked. I looked at him my eyes searing him.

"I know everything...everything!!" I said, eyeing him up and down. The boy grew nervous, unsure what I was hinting at.

"Well, that's good to know." He said awkwardly.

"Everything's good to know. It's how I stay one step ahead of everything..." I continued, resting my arms on the table.

"In other words, he plunders!" Marcell teased. It made me laugh.

"So did we cheat the win?"Everette asked.

"No...I could have figured out how to sense the cloakers without knowing. What I did on the field was spontaneous anyways." I corrected, playing over my food.

"I wish I wouldn't have panicked. That Ghost dude hit me hard as fuck!" Liam said, disappointed with himself.

"You did good kid." I said ruffling his hair.

"Why were you saving everyone out there on the field?" Everette asked with an innocent smile.

"What kind of dumb question is that? Do you not know how hard the sod is?" I responded.

"Yeah, but you even saved Ghost..." Everette said, completely stuck on the matter.

"What part of the sod is hard don't you get?" I said back, not bothering to look at him. His eyes began to burn into my flanks, obviously frustrated with me being so difficult.

"Not even gonna lie...I was surprised too." Milan laughed, easing the tension.

"When I was chasing Ghost's ass, I wanted to knock the fucking wind out of him for each time he smacked into one of the little guys. But when I did, I just saw a helpless kid in free fall and I couldn't just let him crash into the ground. We were like three hundred feet high!" I said, finally giving an answer.

"Was it the same for me?" Everette asked, this obviously being something that has bothered him. I turned to him, looking him in eyes.

"You need someone to look out for your ass because you'll end up following someone blindly into something stupid...and die! ...And quite frankly, you did out there on the field." I said bluntly.

"I need someone to look out for me?" He asked, surprised. He looked around seeing everyone had their silent opinions on the matter, written all on their faces.

"Yeah, you kind of do." I nodded.

"And what makes you think you can do such a great job?" Everette asked defensively.

"You know what? I probably can't...I'm gonna fail because you're too damn big of an idiot to look out for. Youre like...six foot three, two hundred pounds and very talented... Ride that ship till it runs aland." I sighed. It definitely angered the boy.

"Why are you so mean?" Everette asked.

"You haven't seen mean. I'm just being blunt. I always say this time and time again... You might not like what I'm gonna say but it'll certainly be the truth." I laughed.

"Yeah... As long as I've known Denver, he's never lied." Marcell laughed.

"Really?" Everette asked, surprised.

"I didn't want to say this because it is not my call to make, but PLEASE watch who you befriend here. This place will chew you up alive if you make the wrong friends." Marcell added. As he said that, Raul and his tiny entourage entered the mess hall. They took their platters to a table, sitting. Raul looked over to us, startled by the fact that Everette and I were sitting together. The last time he saw us interacting, Everette and I were having a nasty argument. He rolled his eyes, resuming to go about his business.

It then dawned on me. He wasn't quite as over me as I previously thought he was. But still though, the damage was done. It had now been two days since the nasty...could you even call it a break up? I don't know. I couldn't say I was exactly over him but there was no turning back at this point. I had a team to look out for and I'd be leaving very soon.

"You know," Marcell began, "The IT team is putting together a party for us..."

"What why?" I asked, startled.

"What's wrong with parties?" Everette asked.

"I've had my fair share of parties...I'm done." I sighed. Marcell and Milan looked at me shocked.

"Whoa, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Milan asked.

"I just don't... I don't know. I'm turning into a crotchety old man! I just hate everything!" I said, shielding my face under my hands.

Everyone fell silent. I then felt something shimmy in between Everette and I. Upon opening my eyes, I was startled to see it was Jarvis.

"I've been looking for you!" Everette laughed. I was reduced to staring Jarvis down like the evil piece of shit he was!

"It's about time we're dining together..." Jarvis laughed. It was all so unnerving to have him so... close... to me!! I was not the only one uncomfortable with his presence. Marcell looked on, fully questioning why Jarvis chose now to make an effort to be beyond cordial outside of the battlefield.

"This can't be real..." Marcell said, clenching his head.

"Well it is. It's about time I put in some effort to get to know you lot." Jarvis smiled.

"Oh god, we're all going to die..." I murmured, almost inaudibly. Jarvis didn't hear it, thankfully.

"Oh really huh?" Marcell asked, arms folded.

"Yeah especially this little twerp..." Jarvis smiled, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close. I felt disgusted. Politely, I removed his arm, turning to him.

"Jarvis," I began, "Never place your goddamn mother fucking hand on me again. Never come in my vicinity... I never hated a person before but you come close. We will never have a relationship beyond being platoon mates. As Second Wing, you shouldn't be interested in pursuing a relationship of this kind with your team. Quit while you're behind..."

"I'm sorry," Jarvis said, "Did I do something offensive...?" It truly got my blood boiling how crafty he was being.

"Just stay the fuck away from me... I don't care what you want!" I snarled, grabbing my platter. I got up from the table, sickened to my stomach by him. He shrugged, looking pitifully oblivious over what happened and selling the look well. This was one dude that could upset me beyond a doubt.

I took my platter to the conveyer belt, getting eyed by all the platoons as I stormed angrily through the mess hall.

"DENVER!" A superior officer shouted from the doorway. It was Captain Wallace. He looked furious. I knew precisely what this was going to be about. I walked to his office, closing the door behind myself. There was no point in sitting considered I was about to get chewed out. He just stared me down with those cold blue eyes.

"...Is it really that bad?" He asked, breaking silence.

"I'm sorry?" I said, unsure what he was asking.

"I'm asking you is it really that bad being a part of my platoon?"

"No!" I said, truly loving working with him.

"Well you just broke up the damn team!" He said, holding back his true rage.

"I'm sorry, I'll be back in the next sector..." I pled.

"You really don't get it do you? Murica is ten times worst than Eurasia, Africa and Oceania combined! You leaving is certain death... You really want to die don't you?" Captain asked.

"No, it's just that I really didn't want to..."

"Be Second Wing? Do you have a problem with being my Second Hand?" He interrupted.

"Yes... Jarvis..." I said.

"You don't think we would have handled him?" He asked.

"No... I wish I was told that! You know how I hate a lack of communication..." I said clenching my head.

"If you knew how long it took to build this team, and for you to do something SO STUPID!!" He said through the grit of his teeth.

"I promise you I will return! I need this..." I sighed. Captain simply shook his head, very disappointed in me. He wasn't as angry with me as I initially thought. This was more hurt than anything. He had so much riding on me. He pointed towards the door.

"Get out..." He demanded. I did so, feeling like I failed him. It simply was a poor move on my part that could have consequences that reverberated across the nation...hell, even the globe.

I just wanted to be alone. I headed to the hangar, walking up the platform. Sitting on the railing, some thirty feet above the tarmac, I watched as the technicians and engineers tweaked the suits and did advanced computer work. This was truly amazing work to appreciate. I wondered if these scientists knew just how great they were because without them, the world would be a very different place.

Not only that, watching them was just entertaining. They often argued and squabbled over who got to do what task, and what experiments would work. They said so many words I never heard before, I couldn't follow their conversation. Still thought, it was beyond hilarious.

"Denver..." Someone said, coming up the platform. It was Doctor Helm, a tall burly man with incredible intelligence.

"Hey!" I smiled.

"Weird seeing you here at random but I must ask you... what did you do to my suit?" He asked.

"You mean the Merlin? I used the adapt tech in the Head's Up Display... I seldom use it. I didn't break anything did I?" I said back.

"No but, the Subbu is having system response issues we're trying to kink out. It tried to update to your firmware but the system stopped mid-boot, change." He responded.

"Oh yeah because Subbu got knocked out the air and went unconscious." I recalled.

"Eh, we need to figure out a way to make the computers work beyond human consciousness. It could very well save a life in the near future." He said.

"Yeah but," Someone else said, coming up the platform, "That violates protocol. It is already hard as hell making computer and brain work seamlessly together as one coherent item. To make the computers go beyond that would make the wingers less bionic and more machine. However, as a fail safe...it'd be great."

"The Merlin has the most interactive interface, followed by the Kestrel..."

"A big issue I have with the suit is the fact that it doesn't collect data on its own. I need this suit warning me of incoming bogies when we're in tight quarters or on the ground, because quite frankly we're easy targets. I need sensory data, more cyberoptic data, more auditory data...anything!" I sighed.

"I'm sorry Denver, but for now we're limited to the current technology but we do have prototypes we can mount on your suit, that you can test for us. It'll be in your helm." Dr. Helm said.

"You can't outfit it on everyone, I mean, on the team?" I asked.

"Well these are prototype sensors. We only have a handful of the equipment built. Come one down to the tarmac," He said, "We can run tests."

Dr. Helm's technician grabbed me by the hand, leading me down the stairs. Dr. Helm summoned the actuators that held my suit suspended in the rafters and grabbed the sensory helm. He too joined us on the Tarmac floor, connecting the helm to a computer. The technician, obviously Dr. Helm's most trusted hand, began giving me a physical.

He was a very adorable young man, about five foot, eight with some very dark features. He probably was an Illisian like Dr. Aheem. The technician connected a long prod to the connectors embedded deep into my skull.

"Your vitals are looking good. Your cybercytes are functioning normally and your cybernetic nervous system is...good. Only thing that is odd, is your stress hormones are relatively high." The technician said.

"Is everything alright with you, Denver?" Dr. Helm asked.

"Yeah..." I sighed.

"I know you're leaving soon. You'll be impressed by the team you're being assigned to. The New World Cybernetic Air Force is a much, much larger sector than the Eurasian Sector. They also are a different breed of people. I got a feeling you may like it over there." Dr. Helm said.

"All I've been hearing is that the place is very dangerous, far more dangerous than Eurasia." I said back.

"It is, but we're not sending you over there unprepared. We're going to make your suit is advanced as the American Winger's suits..." Dr. Helm said.

"Wait, the American Wingers have better equipment?" I asked.

"Miles better...They have a larger sect, so more brains are working together. Right now, they have this huge recovery mission in Patagonia, trying to recover lost files from Dr. Aheem's huttle." Dr. Helm responded.

"Why'd he even go to Patagonia?" I asked.

"The man was going mad and felt like he was being targeted. So like a genius, he went alone to the most remote place he could." Dr. Helm said.

"He didn't have family or anything?"

"He had a son named Tanzanir Aheem Zaheed that he took to Patagonia with him but his remains were never found. Tanzanir is presumed dead at this point and all efforts to recover him have been gone. Tanzanir was cybernetic just like you all, was going to be a Winger in the Eurasian Air Core. He actually was supposed to be the first Levant, but his dad took him when he was five years old and fled the country. We could track both of them for a while but when they reached Patagonia, Tanzanir's signal disappeared and Dr. Aheem was found mutilated in his huttle. No one knows what murdered him..." Dr. Helm explained.

"That's just..." I said, crept out by the story.

"The American Air Force took over the case and found out that Dr. Aheem had been in communication with a faction known as the Ravagers. They found out he was the one who built the Naval fleet which stopped their coastal raids and that there was an air fleet being made. They threatened to kill him and his wife which prompted Dr. Aheem to move from the Americas to Europe. It didn't stop there though. Dr. Aheem finished his work in Europe, creating a humongous network of Wingers and Swimmers. It pretty much thwarted the efforts of the Revivalists, here in this stretch of the world. By this time, Dr. Aheem and his Wife, Formalda Zaheed, had their first son. The Revivalists and the Ravengers somehow joined forces and began to threaten Dr. Aheem, targeting him in isolated assassination attempts. Dr. Aheem was prompted to flee Europe and head back to the Americas where his family vanished but he ended up dead." Dr. Helm continued.