Once A Flyboy, Always a Flyboy

Posted on Mon Jul 26th, 2021 @ 9:10pm by Lieutenant Colonel Jonathon Raynor

Mission: Jumping Right In
Location: Raynor's Office - Level 18 - SGC
1404 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

/// ON ///

"Colonel!"

The voice called out from outside of Lieutenant Colonel John Raynor's office broke his 'power nap' causing him to snap forward for a moment. He threw his hands out in front of him balancing himself and shocking himself awake. Seeing that he was now safe from any signs of falling or slamming into anything, he lowered his hands quickly to see a male in the same black uniform from top to bottom peaking into the room.

"Dude, they are inbound," the captain smirked as he looked at him. "You wide eyed and bushy tailed now?"

John frowned and winced as he looked the man over. "Shut up when you are talking to me, captain."

"Aye Aye, sir!" Bireley snapped to attention with a salute as Raynor got up from his desk and started for the door. All the colonel could do was scoff before pushing the man and the two started down the corridor. As they dodged groups of people. The two continued to chat. "So you know the other allied governments really didn't give up their captured ships, what little they did have. so that leaves the hand full that our government have in hand."

"Right, the two troop carriers are staying at Area 51, being prepped for some mission, already and we get what... the shuttles?" John rolled his eyes.

"Well yeah, and those fighters... I think we have what... five?"

"... No we have 4 now. The 5th one was beyond our understanding of repairing at the time. So they tried to build a hybrid from those parts. It was called the X301, and it flew for a short time before there were some critical error."

"Right. Well those are staying at Area 51 as well."

"Wasn't there talk of stripping down those troop transports down and retro fitting some of the stuff into our own hybrid ship or whatever?"

As the two got to the elevator waited, Bireley continued. "You heard the same thing huh. Well, I guess things change."

"I guess so. Which isn't really much of a surprise."

Once the doors to the elevator sprung open, the two pilots switched places with those in the elevator and made their way topside. There was a slight pause before the younger officer spoke up. "Wait you said that the there was a hybrid fighter and it didn't pan out? What happened?"

There was a slight pause before he took a deep breath and looked at the younger officer. "The pilot and copilot were launched into deep space by a hidden autopilot program which was left in tact by some yellow glowing, over dressed simpleton."

"Geez..." there was a slight pause before the captain pondered whether to respond or not. "... did they survive?"

"The cockpit was blown, the two pushed out and were scooped up by me, in one of the troop transports. I ruined the door for a month, and written up, but they were saved. Glad I was getting over the flu at the time. They called me in real quick as I had the most experience handling the alien crafts. If it wasn't for that flu, I would have been the test pilot," John explained as he relived the day.

"Lucky bastard," Bireley replied as he sighed. "All I have been able to fly out of all of those things have been the shuttles."

Closing his eyes for a moment as the elevator continued upwards, he remembered the personal experience of having gone toe to toe with the alien fighters. There were several of them and their fighter squadron had gotten all they had up in the air against them. He remembered as he and his fellow wingmen had to dodge and maneuver like the had never been trained before. If it wasn't for the massive amounts of weapons fire raining down on them from above by mother ships, it would have been a much more evenly matched fight with the enemy fighters, even wit their advanced plasma weapons. Remembering back that he had scored three kills before taking wing damage, forcing an ejection. Then there was the decent back down to earth where he dodged weapons fire of those energy weapons trying to take him out of the air. Till this day, he could not believe that he was still alive and had dodge their attacks.

The elevator reached the top of the shaft and opened up to where there was a large room with security check points. The two pilots cleared security quickly and moved out and into the neighboring hanger. It was newly built within the year, large enough to fit six full size KC-135 tanker planes inside with towing space in the middle to clear the whole hanger.

In one corner of the far end were forklifts and cargo prepping and un-prepping as C-130's and other cargo planes came in to unload supply, vehicles and other equipment. Off in the other side was the large crane and the retractable hanger floor. From there, they were able to lower the stargate down the shaft to the bottom of the underground base. It was slow but it worked quite well. At the opposite side was the primary hanger doors and either sides were where air craft were expected to be parked while inside the hanger for either repairs, or keep out of the weather. Down the center of the hanger from the ceiling was the control room for the hanger which oversaw the whole hanger. They knew that on top of the hanger was a small tower, built on top, for a secondary control tower. It was all a well planned out layout.

"Attention personal, prepare for multiple aircraft arrivals. Nonaccentual are to report behind red restriction line," a voice called out over the intercom. "I repeat, prepare for multiple aircraft arrivals. Nonaccentual are to report behind red restriction line."

Next came the sound of the warning alarms for the the hanger doors which echoed the interior of the hanger as the warning klaxon lights flashed on the massive doors, both in the middle and at the far ends, as well as several klaxon lights placed on the ceiling rafters and side walls of the hanger. A couple seconds passed and nothing happened with the doors, as the crew chief and specialists called out and moved out of the way. A half a dozen crew chief with reflective vests and lights were spread across the other side of the restriction lines. They were fully geared up with head phones and cold weather gear and goggles ready to take on the new arrivals.

A gust of icy wind shot through the interior of the hanger as soon as the hanger doors cracked open to the bright snowy exterior weather that was the Antarctic weather. It took a couple minutes before the hanger doors came to a stop at the end of their tracks. The breeze cut through the hanger as everyone waited. John and Jason Bireley both regretted the choice of not bringing thicker coats, as the quickly wrapped their arms around themselves each trying to stay warm. But it was helpful that they stood underneath a heater, one of several attached on the walls throughout the hanger. But it was well worth it as the hum of crafts came in.

A truck with flashing lights came down the center of the flightline outside the hanger and then quickly turned right out of the way outside of the hanger, and one of the crew chiefs started waving in the air craft behind the truck. One by one, alien shuttle crafts hovered into the hanger, and one by one, they were waved off to the left of the primary crew chief. Three shuttles came in, followed by alien fighters which were waved off to the right of the hanger. The craft landed and the hanger doors started to close with the same red warning klaxon lights flashing.

"I guess Area 51 may not be holding onto those fighters as planned!" Bireley noted as he leaned in to make sure Raynor.

"Well, they must have felt that they didn't want our shuttles shot down, so they needed escorting," John replied as the craft one by one powered down. "Now how about we stop guessing and go check out the craft. I am assuming they plan on assigning these here for SGC use. But I have been wrong before."

/// OFF ///