| abstract | - In the cockpit of his T-76 supersonic jet trainer, 34th Flying Training Squadron instructor pilot Captain Howard Edwards finished his final checks on the aircraft. "All systems ready for flight." he said to himself as he finished up his last checks on the aircraft. Today was to be a formation, with four of his students in tow, one of their last flights before they went on to fly their assigned aircraft. Looking to his right, Edwards' student gave a thumbs up, which he responded to in kind. Making a chopping motion forward, Edwards released the brakes on his aircraft, and pushed the throttle to full power, speeding down the runway, followed by his wingman. As the aircraft reached 120 knots, Edwards slowly pulled back on the stick, bringing the T-76 into the air, and flipping the landing gear handle up, retracting the aircraft's gear into the fuselage with the sound of whirring motors. Looking back over his right wing, Edwards saw his wingman was still there. Making a circular motion with his index finger, Edwards and his wingman began orbiting around the airbase, waiting for the other two trainees to take off and join the formation. As the other T-76's lined up, Edwards leveled out the turn, and began flying straight, allowing the students to continue practicing flying close formation at high speeds, a skill that would be needed for those flying B-65 atmospheric bombers on various worlds. Getting on his radio, Edwards said "Alright, aim for that bank of clouds so we can practice what to do if your formation gets split up." "Roger sir." the trainees responded, and the formation changed course for the massive clouds, something that would simulated what would happen if the formation lost cohesion in the heat of battle. Flying into the massive cottonball looking cloud, the first part of the exercise went smoothly. The formation had been broken apart. "Lost wingman, I repeat, lost wingman." Edwards said over the radio, hoping one of the flight would respond so that he could find him and begin to reform the formation quickly. But there was no response. Scanning the blue sky and his radar, Edwards saw nothing. The aircraft were gone, as if they had vanished. "Hound Flight, respond!" Edwards shouted. No response came. He continued flying around the area, looking for even just one T-76 that was part of his formation. But to no avail. As a warning sounded in his helmet's headset, Edwards saw he was now running on emergency fuel, and headed back to Luxor Air Force Base. "First Lieutenant Edwards, report to Wing Commander Lieutenant Colonel George's office immediately." sounded the public announcement system. Standing up from his flight briefing, Edwards passed working on it to his fellow instructors, and headed for the Colonel's office. Halting in front of it, he knocked on it, and heard a curt "Come in and sit down Lieutenant." from the officer. Taking a seat in an uncomfortable wood chair, he looked the Lieutenant Colonel in the eyes. The latter made the first statement. "Now, Edwards, you said that seven months ago, during a routine formation flying exercise, your four ship flight of trainees simply disappeared, along with their aircraft, serial numbers 5636, 5590, 6735, and 2351, and that they were never found. The reason for your demotion." "Yes sir, I do remember it." "Well, they've been found." At the Colonel's words, Edward's heart sank. Their planes or bodies had probably been found. His trainees were confirmed dead, and he would be drummed out of the Air Force for his own carelessness. "Are they alive sir?" "Yes." responded the Colonel. Edwards' heart leapt until he heard the next words. "So have their aircraft. But we would not like them alive at this point. They and their aircraft have been found to be conducting air raids for the United Rebel Front." "And you're sure sir?" "Yes." George said as he placed some surveillance photos of the pilots and the tail numbers of the aircraft. Studying them for a moment, Edwards saw that it was most certainly the same pilots and aircraft he had lost nearly a year ago. The Colonel continued "Investigation has found that these trainees had more than likely been URF plants from the beginning, and had waited until you were practicing lost wingmen procedures in the advanced aircraft that they made their move." "Will I be-" "Drummed out of the UNSC Air Force? No. Unless of course these trainees had been showing signs of deserting and you neglected to inform us." "No sir. They were average students, but didn't show any signs of defecting or disloyalty." "I see. This is still troubling. So, as a result, inform your students that there are to be no training flights for the next seven days whilst we investigate any more possible rebel plants." "Yes sir. Now, what is-" Edwards was cut off as the signal for the SkyHawk fighters based at the airbase to scramble was sounded. "Get your flight to safety now!" yelled the Colonel as a bomb hit the command building. "Coming in to take out those SkyHawks! Sarah, cover me!" "Copy that Alex!" In his armed T-76, URF pilot and former UNSC Air Force pilot trainee, Alex Tafon dove on the same tarmac he had used years prior as a flight of SkyHawks prepared to take off vertically and engage the rebel fighters. Firing a salvo of 75 millimeter rockets, they hit the armed and fueled UNSC aircraft, causing a series of secondary explosions to go off as his aircraft flew overhead. "Those of you still with munitions, form up on me!" "Copy!" responded the other three T-76's in Alex's flight, as the aircraft orbited around the base. Alex moved his hand in a horizontal motion, and as they had been taught, the flight formed up four straight across. Pumping his fist several times, Tafon armed the single cluster bomb mounted on the underbelly of the T-76. Positioning his pipper on the shelters for the aircraft of the 6th Tactical Squadron, Tafon released the bomb, as did the rest of his flight, and broke off, heading back to Teribus Island.
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