Skylar's Wish • Rooster

Chapter 1: Home

I smile to myself, I love practice runs. Well, that's a lie. I love any excuse to leave this stuffy carrier - USS Carl Vinson - that I call home. You know that saying; 'Feeling the wind in my hair?', that's great and all, but my hair is currently pinned back into a slick military bun then shoved into my helmet. All I'm feeling is sweat forming along the back of my neck and sliding down my forehead. My helmet, that hides my uniformed hair, is light blue with white clouds all over it, looking like the sky. I have a small yellow mustang symbol for my squadron (VFA-111), that rests on the bottom section. My callsign 'Skylar' is written in the same army green as my uniform flight suit.

People always ask me, 'Why are you in the Navy, let alone a fighter pilot?' I can't pinpoint the exact moment where I said, that's it, that's what I want to be for the rest of my life. As a child, I'm sure my answer would have something to do with my 'famous' father. My father never forced us to follow in his footsteps. So, my brother went into business, while I could never fully decide. I thought about being a nurse (like my mom), a teacher, a vet. Average careers for a kid to think about. But that all changed one day, in my freshman year of high school, when Pops bought an old Cessna 206. Countless hours, we spent in an old hangar on base fixing up that plane. When we finished, I decided that I wanted to be around planes for the rest of my life. So, I took some college classes while finishing high school- got a degree in Engineering. Then I joined the Navy, got accepted into the academy, and I was off, I haven't looked back since. 

As far as I know, I have always had a thing for planes, even before rebuilding one with Pops. But flying is an entirely different experience, one of the best feelings in the world. It feels like I'm in my own slice of heaven flying at supersonic speed in an F-18 through white fluffy clouds with two fighter jets in the distance. Shit! I quickly snap out of my daydream and see two F-18 flying about 25 miles in front of me. I fly my plane closer, but stay far enough behind that I don't show up on their radar.

"Anyone see Skylar and Indy?" I hear a male voice ask over the radio. "That's negative, Wildcard." A female pilot replies. That voice belongs to Lt. Avery Nelson, callsign Holly. She was recently deployed to the Bering Sea along with her RIO, Lt. Mitchell James, callsign Scout. They just graduated from the academy a little over a year ago. They were immediately paired up and deployed to the North Pole. Luckily, pretty early in their relationship, they formed the trust that a pilot and RIO needs to have.

Holly is one of those pilots you can rely on, she never, ever, leaves her wingman's back. She's very determined to be the best she can be up here - reminds me of myself back at the academy and before Top Gun. Scout knows what he is doing with all the controls and reading radars. Scout can be quite serious at times, but he can also make you laugh. He's a perfect match for the uptight and focus, Holly. Reminds me of me and my old RIO.

"Been here for a hot minute." I start to bring my plane in closer behind them, finally revealing myself on radar. "Shit!!! Skylar's on our 6," Scout yells. "Nice try, Sky," Holly says, speeding up her plane to nearly 350 knots. "Wildcard, bank right," Holly suggests. I see Holly in Ghost 3 bank right while Wildcard in Ghost 4 banks left. "Leaving your wingman, now that's a dick move," I say over comms.

Following the sigh from Ghost 3' pilots, I make a mental note to report this behavior - this isn't the first time Wildcard has left his wingman- and bank right to follow Ghost 3. Holly starts to decrease her speed before pulling the brakes, causing me to fly ahead of her. Knowing that move all too well, I used their celebration to my advantage and climbed towards the sun. Knowing her nose will follow me. "Scout, I've lost her, where is she?" Holly yells uneasily at Scout. "I'm looking! I'm looking!"

I use their panic to bank left away from the sun and to dive past them. I dive so quickly past them that I see their plane move to the side. "Shit!!" I hear both of them yell distressed. I easily pull up from my dive, circle around, and level out just behind them. I turn on the missile radar, then hear the tone. "You're Dead, Ghost 3," I inform them. Groans echo through comms. "Good run, Guys. You last longer this time. Your moves were smarter this time, Holls," I proudly tell her.