Kaihi

Kaihi

Bullets rattle overhead as I yank the stick hard left, slamming my boot onto the rudder bar. My aircraft responds instantly, rolling and dropping in a clean arc, bleeding altitude but gaining energy. The enemy Axis fighter struggles to follow, but I haven't shaken them - at least for now.

I roll again, then pull back - hard. The g-forces crush me into the padded seat, my vision greying at the edges. I control my breathing, counting the seconds, scanning for the enemy.

Empty sky.
Empty sky…

There.

They’ve overshot, lost track of me during the maneuver.

I roll inverted and pull again, nose swinging down and around. The earth spins past the canopy - sky, horizon, ground - until I’ve looped behind them.

The enemy interceptor realizes too late what’s happened. They open the throttle, trying to escape with their superior speed, but they’ve already lost the advantage.

My finger finds the trigger.

A short burst.

The bullets scream through the air and punch clean through the target. One wing snaps off, the aircraft tumbling into flames. Batteries rupture, fire trailing like a comet. The canopy jettisons. A moment later, the pilot ejects - launched into the sky like a doll - parachute blooming behind them like a white flower.

I consider following them down.
But I don’t.

They’re out of the fight. That’s enough. I’m a soldier, not a murderer.

A soft, familiar voice crackles to life in my headset.

“Kill confirmed! Congratulations, Arkar! That makes twenty-four!”

Tzofiya. My AI. Built into the headset, always watching, always cheerful.

I grin. “Thanks, Fiya. But please - just call me Kaihi. I respond faster to my real name.”

Arkar - my callsign - wasn’t one I chose.

“Sorry! I’ll remember next time.”

She won’t. She’s not programmed to. I’ve been meaning to patch that - maybe give her some basic learning memory - but it’s never felt urgent.

She continues: “With that kill, you’re one away from deployment choice rights!”

Twenty-five confirmed kills. That’s the number. Hit that mark and you’re granted freedom - choose your own missions, lead your own squadrons.

Unlike now, where I just follow.

“I know,” I mutter. “One more. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Got anything on radar?”

There’s a pause.

“No. Nothing. Sorry.”

I adjust the throttle slightly. “That’s alright. Another time. Let’s head home. Can you calculate the quickest route?”

“Certainly!”

She gets to work. Silence returns.

I settle back into my seat. The vibrations of the pressure engines hum beneath me - steady, almost soothing. I hear the rush of air through the ducts under the cockpit. The distant howl of wind outside the canopy. A faint hiss of static from an empty radio channel.

The sky surrounds me - vast, blue, and empty.

I love the sky.

“Route calculated!” Fiya chirps. “Uploading to the nav computer now.”

The HUD flickers to life across the canopy, critical readouts glowing in soft blue. Navigation rings pulse gently - guiding me home.

“Thanks. Alright, let’s go.”

I push the throttle forward. The acceleration is smooth, immediate.

She’s a single-seat fighter. Agile, responsive - turns on a dime. Not the fastest bird out here, and definitely not the longest-ranged. But with the extra battery pods slung under the wings, she can make it deep into enemy territory and back.

I haven’t named her yet. That privilege is reserved for aces - those who’ve hit twenty-five kills.

Almost there. I’ve got a few names in mind.

Then-

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

A rapid, rising alarm fills the headset.

“Missile lock! Missile lock!” Fiya shrieks.

What? Missiles? That can’t be right. The enemy doesn’t have missile tech - at least, they’re not supposed to.

I whip my head around, scanning the sky. I roll, trying to catch a glimpse. But it’s too late.

There's a sharp crack as a violent jolt tears through the fuselage. The controls go slack in my hands.

The aircraft shudders violently.

Warning lights flash across the dashboard, the HUD pulsing red. Alarms scream in my ears.

Multiple system failures. Engine condition unstable.

The good news - if you can call it that - is the batteries are still intact.

But the nose is dropping fast. The altimeter is unwinding in a sickening spiral.

I grab the stick, my palms slick with sweat. It feels loose - sluggish. I yank it back, hard, until it won’t go any further.

The frame groans beneath me. Control surfaces, shredded by shrapnel, fight to catch the air.

Come on.

She resists - then, slowly, degree by agonizing degree, the nose lifts.

The rate-of-climb gauge steadies. We’re not falling anymore.

I run through emergency checks, scanning what still works.

Weapons: out.
Radar: dead.
Controls: damaged, sluggish.
Engine: unstable, but still pushing.
HUD: flickering - navigation gone, but some vital stats remain.

It’s a miracle we’re still in the air.

I have to hold the stick off-center to keep her level. Even then, she flies at a tilt.

My voice shakes. “Fiya… what just happened?”

Her voice, as always, is calm. “We took a missile directly to the rear fuselage. We’re lucky to still be airborne.”

I figured. But hearing it aloud makes it feel real.

“Can we still get back?”

“No.”

No hesitation. No softening the blow.

“Alright then… how far can we go?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Hmm… maybe another hour?”

I do the math. An hour at this crippled speed won’t get us anywhere near safety.

It took a day and a half just to get here.

I inhale slowly, trying to keep the panic down. My arms are already aching from holding the stick steady. I don’t know if I can keep this up for an hour - let alone longer.

“Okay. Is there anything we can do? Anywhere we can go?” I ask, grasping at straws. “There’s a neutral country nearby, right?”

“Yes, but it’s risky. They might not be enemies… but they’re not allies either. I’d think twice before landing there.”

I clench my jaw. “Do we have any other options?”

“No.”

The frustration hits me like a slap.

If that’s the only option, why even mention thinking twice?

“Okay,” I sigh. “Can you plot the route?”

“On it! It’ll take-”

She cuts off.

Silence.

A beat.

Then- “Oh.”

My hands are slipping on the controls. I grip tighter, using both arms now.

“Oh? What do you mean, oh?”

She sighs. “The nav unit’s been hit. I have no idea where we are.”

The words bounce inside my skull like a ricocheting bullet.

She has no idea where we are.

We’re lost.

And deep in enemy territory.