Border

Kaihi

Roll. Pull. Push. Pull again. Roll.

Missile after missile - dodged by meters. I throw Mazel into sharp, breakneck maneuvers as the three orange-spewing warheads bear down, again and again. Desperation claws at the edges of my vision.

We’re so close.

The speedometer ticks up.

2000 km/h.

2100.

A new personal record. Not that it matters.

The missiles still keep up.

They’re on a whole different level from anything we’ve faced before. Even the stealth variant feels tame by comparison - and that one actually hit us.

The world spins as I throw the ever-willing Mazel into a savage snap roll. Another missile flashes past, close enough to shudder the frame.

Another curls around, lining up for an attack.

Then-

An idea.

I wait until it’s nearly in range.

Then push forward on the stick.

Mazel noses down. The laser appears - projecting straight into a hillside below.

Perfect.

I yank the nose back up, bracing for the blast below us-

But nothing happens.

Then it hits me. The laser isn’t a targeting beam. It’s a safety check. A route validator. The missile’s checking to make sure it won’t hit anything if it misses.

Sure enough, the laser reappears seconds later - and we nearly lose a wing as the missile screams past, grazing us.

Sweat pours down my face. My chest is tight.

Please.

Please let us get through this.

We’ve come so far.

Two minutes to safety.

But the missiles keep coming. Unrelenting. Merciless.

The afterburner is pushing its limits.

Another evasive flick - another missile dodged. But then I catch sight of orange smoke coughing and sputtering behind one of them. It stutters, dives - and slams into the ground in a violent burst of dirt and flame.

Hope flickers-

Only to be crushed again as Fiya calls out:

“Another pair! Two-one-two!”

Come on. Come on, Kaihi.

Think of Zyla.

One minute to the border.

Left. Pull. Stop. Pull again.

Right. Pull - then push.

We’re so close.

But the four remaining missiles still pursue. One drops low and crashes into the ground in a burst of dirt and smoke.

But there’s no time to celebrate.

Suddenly-

The afterburner cuts.

The engine note drops back to a dull roar.

The loss of speed is immediate. Jarring.

My heart skips a beat.

My face drains of color.

My blood runs cold.

Twenty seconds to the border.

Three missiles remain. All closing in.

I can’t dodge them all at once. Not like this.

I hold my breath. I offer a silent prayer.

And I accept the possibility: this might be it.

Then - something streaks past.

Fast. Dark. Sleek.

A fighter. Screaming in from dead ahead.

It blasts past with an almighty whumpf, carving the sky apart.

The missiles falter - then veer off.

They stop chasing me - and start pursuing it.

The radio crackles.

“Arkar! We'll distract them. Get across the border!”

A friendly voice.

A familiar voice.

One I used to follow into combat. One I used to take orders from.

My old squadron leader.

I don’t hesitate.

With the throttle already maxed out, I straighten the flight path and push for the border.

Ten seconds.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two-

One.

We cross it at 1300km/h.

The fight - gone. Left far behind.

Relief slams into me. I want to scream. I want to laugh. I want to cry.

Every muscle shakes.

I hear Zyla sobbing softly.

Fiya's voice comes through, bright and cheerful as I throttle back.

“Well done, Arkar! You've accomplished the mission. Your rewards should be ready for you when you land.”

I shake my head.

Rewards?

Being alive is more than enough.

Suddenly, aircraft drift into formation around Mazel - tight, protective. My hand jumps to the stick on reflex. But they’re friendly.

The radio crackles.

“Arkar, this is Idris. Welcome home. We’ll escort you the rest of the way. Do you remember the route back to base?”

I grin.

“Idris, this is Arkar. It’s good to see you again. Yeah, I remember. And thank you - you really saved our butts.”

A low chuckle over the comms.

“No problem. You’ll have to tell me everything when we land. Especially about that bird of yours - what the hell is it? And who's the cute girl?”

Somehow - despite everything - I manage to laugh.

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in deep purples as we come in to land.

I don’t need Fiya’s help - I’ve touched down on this runway more times than I can count.

The landing gear lowers and locks into place. All green.

Flaps down.

I ease Mazel in and flare perfectly. We touch down like a swan on still water - graceful, smooth. There’s barely a bump.

I press the brakes gently. She slows.

We turn off the runway, taxiing along the paved path toward the dispersal area. That’s when I notice the cluster of emergency vehicles. They must be here for Zyla.

I slide the canopy back. The shriek of the propeller carries over the deeper wail of the engine.

We taxi in like a sauntering dog who's fully aware it’s been very, very naughty.

I bring Mazel to a soft halt and shut the engine down. The propellers rattle to a stop. The sky darkens overhead - stars will be out soon.

Medics rush toward us with a stretcher, barking orders at each other.

“Quick! Get her out - we need to get her to the hospital, pronto!”

I stay seated as they carefully lift Zyla out like a child, placing her on the stretcher.

That’s when I see it - she’s unconscious.

My heart stumbles.

When did that happen?

Before we landed? After?

I don’t know. And there’s no time to ask.

The medics pile into the waiting ambulance. Sirens wail as it speeds off into the dusk.

Finally, I climb out, stretching on the wing just as the airbase commander strides up to me. His expression is stern.

“Arkar, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. I expect a full report in my office. Half an hour.”

Then he grins.

“And welcome back, Kaihi. It’s good to see you alive and well.”