The War of Flight

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Conrad Vissarionovich - Barons - Clerkenwell

Leaning forward in his chair, Conrad hunched his shoulders a little, pulling his jacket closer around him as he glared at the folder on the doctor's desk. "I said I'm fine."

The doctor sighed a little, "Mister Vissarionovich, even if you try to use your jacket to hide them, your wounds are plain enough. Even if you could hide them, the fact that your commanding officer ordered you to come here is evidence enough that you are wounded."

"You lean to live with it." He muttered.

"Sorry?" She said, looking up from a sheet she'd been scribbling notes on.

"In the Aerial Marines, you learn to live with wounds." Conrad said, "My record should be enough evidence of that."

He pulled off his jacket, revealing a white shirt stained by blood. "Superficial. Some knife cuts, bruising from unarmed combat, I think a broken rib from a bullet impact, but my armour stopped the worst of it."

In truth, the damage was much worse than that. His 'superficial' knife wounds were, like the slash along his arm, poorly stitched up, and he was still losing a little blood. There was a cut just near his eye from where a stray bullet had grazed the side of his head. But one look at his occupational history and anyone could tell that Conrad Vissarionovich wasn't the kind who would admit his every weakness.

Conrad slung his jacket over the back of his chair, then looked sidelong at Doctor Evolet, "What else are you meant to be doing?"

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You said Officer Schultz has put me in your hands for the day. I know from your being the Clerkenwell's only medic," he said, not understanding the basic distinction between doctor and medic, "That you don't take a day to patch up a few grazes. Is he taking me off duty?"

Jake Tucker - Time Empire - Masashi

"So we're flying over Baron territory in the Caucasus mountains, just a routine scouting mission-"

"No such thing as a routine scouting mission over that part of Russia. The Barons might not be too different to us in terms of their monarchy, but the Russians are savages." Katamoto laughed. He was one of the other pilots in Jake's squadron, and one of the few subjects of the Time Empire who saw any similarity between the three aerial superpowers.

Jake laughed with him, "Well, as routine as it could get then. But then we see a Caucasus town shooting it out with a bunch of Freedom planes. There was a small airship with them, just a mobile airport I think they must’ve sent over from the Americas. And this thing was just spouting off so much propaganda!”

There was another laugh from the Tengu who had gathered around to hear the stories. One of the Western Russians raised his voice in an imitation of the Freedom Fighter airship, translating what they’d said, “The Barons are oppressing you! Throw off your shackles and join the fight to bring democracy to all corners of the globe!”

“And you know what Jake did?” Katamoto said.

Jake cut in over him, “I flew right in there and strafed the bloody airship, that’s what I did!”

This earned a mixed reaction from the audience – some applause for his bravery, some laughter for the perceived foolishness of the Americans, and some mutters that Jake was an arrogant fool.

“Hang on, what’s this?” The Western Russian said, “Did anyone hear about a fleet assembly?”

“No,” said Katamoto, “Why?”

“Well, that’s the Lexploder out there. And…” he squinted for a moment, then swore under his breath, grabbing a pair of binoculars from his side, “No doubt about it…the Kariginai’s coming up from the South.”

There were murmurs of worry from amongst the Tengu. It wasn’t often that the Commander’s flagship made an appearance away from the homeland, but here it was. “Wonder what this is about.” One person said. “Well,” replied Jake, “That’s between Yamada and the captains. We’ll get told when they think we need to know.”
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22

Wide-eyed stupid.

If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens




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Ms/Dr. Evolet Ray

I hated this part, when a troop asks if I was taking him or her off duty. It's like being slammed up against a wall and beaten with a bat. It hurt for them to think I wanted that, but I was the enemy because I did have that control. If I thought they were too tired - unable to perform coherently in the line of duty or too injured to carry their own weight, or mentally unstable, I had to pull them to the sidelines, to a desk.
Or worse - I stopped my thoughts.

It wasn’t unusual for an Officer to come in and ask me to pull a man out, so he didn’t have to be that enemy, I hated that, but I understood. Better me look like the bad guy then somebody they needed to trust out in battle.

None of that was the case with Mr. Vissarionovich though, Officer Schultz merely presented a concern for Conrad and I was to look into it. To make sure he stayed healthy and sane. Of course that didn’t change the fact that I could still put him in a desk job, if it was necessary but I wasn’t about to pull this man away from his job.

“No, not at all Mr. Vissarionovich. I wouldn’t pull a man like you to the sides. I’ve read your records. You belong out there,” I nodded out the window while grabbing his file and making my way to the door.

“So you know,” he grabbed my upper arm and stopped me in my tracks, “you know how many men I’ve killed."

He was frightneing me but this wasn't the worst encounter I’ve had, I kept my head high and told him what I thought were notable records:
“No Mr. Vissarinovich, I don’t read that number. I know how many people you’ve saved. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard your name, it’s come through just as often as wounded men. Wounded men claiming you saved them." I tried to read his red eyes but found nothing, "Now, if you could please remove your hand and follow me to the clinic.” I gestured to the closed door.



Some twenty years from now, users will ask a similar question about world famous Chicken poetry and Google will tell them about alliyah.
— Hkumar