Butterflies filled my stomach. I hadn't quite relaxed since I left the hospital, and now, as I flew over the beautiful blue Madion Sea, my hands shook on the joystick of my plane.
I couldn't have told anyone what we were trying to accomplish. I could barely even remember my name.
There hadn't been anyone to see me off, though Kader had gripped me hard on my shoulder before I'd walked into the hangar. I checked all my instruments again, although our ships were so heavily modified, they basically flew themselves these days. In the distance, the first wave of pilots were engaging with the Raven forces. I was part of the third wave, the backup to the backup. Some part of me wished that a miracle would happen before my part in this exercise began, and we'd all turn around and go back home.
In my helmet, I heard the sounds of the pilots ahead of me, their cursing and hissing as they avoided being blown up.
"Aargh!"
I swallowed hard as a plume of fire exploded around one of the planes in the distance. Scratchy voices came through from our airfield some two hundred miles behind me, ordering in the second wave of forces.
But the Ravens had gone on the offensive, nearly twenty planes headed straight for the third wave. Bullets flew and I turned my ship to the side to avoid being shot. A Raven plane zoomed too close for comfort. Unlike our advanced planes with a single propeller, they still had the twin props on their rusty, older models.
"First wave, disengage from mission and provide cover," someone barked in my ear.
A bright flame exploded to my right and there was screaming in my ear again as another Kylaen soldier went down. Martin's young face was in my mind's eye, and I imagined he was in the plane that just went down, even though he was waiting with Kader back in Norose. Perhaps I could stomach it if I thought of this as an exercise in protecting my fellow soldiers versus killing innocent people.
I flew my ship high above the rest, firing half-hearted bullets toward the rickety old ships that, despite looking older than I was, were still holding their own against our modern planes. I'd even begun to root for the Ravens; if they fought us off too badly, we'd retreat back to Norose.
A familiar voice floated through our secure channels.
"Well, boys, looks like you're kicking some ass out there..."
It was Rhys, my eldest brother and the heir to the throne. He was technically in the military as well, but only dropped in on special occasions. My first mission apparently counted.
Truthfully, his voice calmed my nerves. It was nice to know he was back at the airfield supporting me.
I switched on my microphone and hoped I sounded brave.
"Hey asshole. They let you in the front door?"
Something changed in the radio chatter, and a chorus of voices began talking quickly and frantically. My radio went out for a second and I fiddled with the controls—
A bullet flew by my head, and I stared at the exit hole on my cockpit glass. If it had been an inch closer, I might have been looking at my splattered brains on the window.
As if my mind were working in slow motion, I realized that I must've had alerted our enemy that I was among them. Of course they'd been monitoring our channels and recognized my voice.
And now, they were gunning for me.
"Galian, get out of there!" Rhys's voice was in my ear, rising above the fracas and giving me permission to do the thing I'd been wanting to do all day.