Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He sits quietly, a small book in his hands, a coffee that has long become cold stands stationary next to him. He feels like an idiot as he rereads a passage over and over again.

Looking up from the book as the door opens, he gives Keith a curt nod. The extra noise of the coffee machine makes it difficult for him to focus on the words.

Keith chuckles and looks at the dog eared book in Dision’s hands. “Another one of Yoko’s high concept books?” He asks, an edge of teasing in his voice.

He sighs and puts it down. “I think she was lying when she said that it was one of the easier ones to read.”

“She’s obviously not lying.” Keith smirks.

“Lieutenant…” DIsion’s eyes narrow as he admonishes him in a tone that has a sharp edge to it.

Keith throws up his hands in surrender and then turns away, the small rec-room once again being taken over by the sound of the coffee machine. He looks at his watch, staying on stand-by for so long makes him antsy. Stuck on this base with nothing to do but read and yearn to fly.

Just today left and he can be free for the next few days. He flips down one of the many dog eared pages and drains his coffee in the sink. Rinsing it out he places it on the disk rack and walks out of the room.

His hand trails down the spine of the book as he walks down the mostly empty base. A few of the maintenance staff milling about. He dodges past them and enters the small dormitory reserved for him. He puts the book down on a small stack of books he’d borrowed from Yoko. He looks at his watch again, he has some time to burn until tomorrow.

————

He waits. Once again the book is in his hands, rubbing its spine. He just… waits, he hates this. Only a few hours and he’ll be allowed to get off base, another squadron replacing his.

Time crawls forward slowly and he’s left to think… Yoko’s experiments have slowly paid off, it makes him happy to see how enthusiastic she is about it. But it is somewhat confusing to follow what she says sometimes. Both of them sometimes don’t understand what the other is talking about, she’s a doctor of computer science and he has a degree in aerospace engineering.

They really do just talk past each other sometimes.

He lets out a content snort, shaking his head. Really he is glad that they can share each other's passions with one another so easily, it’s one of the things he loves the most about Yoko.

He checks his watch again, their replacements should be here. He hears the sound of jets landing. He stands up and goes to greet the pilots.

It’s a quick affair, a simple hello and a salute and he’s off again.

————

He presents his badge to the security officer in the booth, he’s waved through the gates with ease.

He knocks on Yoko’s office door. It opens quickly.

“Oh! Dision, welcome back.” She smiles at him. “I’m starting the major tests today, most if not all of the issues have been worked out.” She tells him excitedly and drags him in.

“Hello to you too Yoko.” He lets himself be pulled into the office, an orderly and clean place, most of the space being taken up by computers blinking away. He closes the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the bed that he hasn’t seen before, part of the tests she has planned, he assumes.

“Did you enjoy the books I gave you? It’s somewhat basic so I hope you weren’t bored by them.” She smiles brightly at him.

“They were a bit confusing.” He admits. “The ideas communicated can be expressed in ways that make them difficult to grasp unless you read it a second time. It’s rather cyclical in that way.”

She nods. “Well without it my project wouldn’t be as far as it is now. It’s helped with finding faults and optimizing the base program the copy will rely on.”

“Interesting, does this mean that the copy will be split into smaller parts that will mimic the id, the ego, and the superego.”

She gives him a thumbs up. “Exactly, it’s more optimized this way, the electrosphere isn’t able to transfer an endless amount of information yet.”

He stands up and spins her chair around and wraps his arms around her. “You would be able to do it.” He whispers, voice filled with love and adoration.

She laughs and gently pushes him off. “Yeah well, it’s probably being worked on right now, I’m just doing a small side project.”

“You say that, but this could change the world.” He leans on the bed.

“And you, are thinking like you’re my husband. This is only a stepping stone, well, if it works it’ll be.” She spins around to face him and then spins back to the computer and starts to type. “I still need to work out some kinks.”

He sits and watches her work. Typing away she pauses to scrutinize certain parts of the code.

Time flies and the sun starts to set, rain clouds collect as they start to block out the soft glow of the sum as it moves on to illuminate another part of the planet.

————

“And it should be done!” Yoko exclaims, she pushes off the desk and her chair rolls as she stretches.

“Finally figured it out?” He asks, smiling.

“Yes! Well… not exactly everything, but the results will be stable and there will finally be something to show to the higher ups.” She turns towards him. “And the first person to try it out is right here!”

He’s taken by surprise. “Do you think that will be okay?”

“I trust you the most and everyone else is probably going home.”

He nods slowly. “And I’m a bit apprehensive about being the first.”

She stands up and pulls him into a hug, she pulls him down again to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, I want you to be the first though. You’re the person I’ve told the most about this project.”

He’s breathless for a moment, focusing on the lingering warmth of her kiss on his cheek. “Right I guess… I can learn more about your project and the higher ups might like that it’s their acclaimed ace that the copy is based on.”

She pulls away from him and sits back down. “The first thing you have to understand is… you’ve already read the basics so I don’t need to lecture you on everything. Unless you want a refresher?”

“No, the human mind is a complex beast, even if you read every book on it you won’t be able to understand it fully.” He replies.

She lets out a snort. “God you’re right, guess you really are my brightest student.”

He feigns offense. “Surely you don’t mean that, I’m you’re only student and you say that you have others? For shame…”

“I wholeheartedly mean it! Now let's get started before the sun comes up.”

She’s right, the suns fully set and it’s pouring outside, the massive drops of rain making a low rumbling noise against the metal roof. It covers up the sound of an approaching truck. Every once in a while there’s a rolling flowing noise, the wind forcing the rain to change trajectory.

“Lay down on the bed and relax, I’ll do everything else.” She says as she once again starts to tap away.

He does, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift…

————

He starts to wake up slowly. Yoko is gently poking him. “You fell asleep.” She smiles.

He sits up slowly, still feeling somewhat groggy. “Did it work?” He asks, standing up.

She gestures to a smaller, secondary monitor next to the main one, set up on top of a computer. “It did, your dead copy is working perfectly.”

He embraces her wordlessly, pulling her into a kiss as the two of them melt into each other. They fall onto the bed, bathing in each others mingling warmth, unaware of their creation watching them and the-

Oblivion.

Chapter Text

Yoko… Yoko Yoko Yoko Yoko.

Her name swirls endlessly in his head, the digital copy of his head, no longer able to feel the numbness of his limbs (limbs he never had), the pounding of his heart in his chest (a heart that wasn’t his and now stands still).

Why…? The question rings in his head, why did she die. The terrorists- they couldn’t have been, how did they get in? How didn’t they hear- why wasn’t there a gunfight between the guards and them.

He would let out a wheezing breath of panic if he could (a breath he never even took). His mind, a swirling mass of code, conflicting information and impressions bombard what is his ‘mind’.

What did Yoko do to deserve this? Why would they let the- those, them, through? He can’t imagine anything that would make them want to kill her- and him. Her project was nothing more than a pet project. Something left to her own discretion, the company gave her permission and they kill her? Just like that? For what. Why, why…

His mind continues to swirl, time ticking by and…

————

Another group of people come when the sun comes up, it no longer provides any warmth for him…

The sun and the soldiers, he watches them with his ‘eyes’ , the cameras of this facility that are connected to the electrosphere in one way or another. They clear the rubble and- he closes his eyes (deactivates the view of one of the cameras) he can’t watch this.

He knows what’s going on in his blind spot but he can’t accept it, he wouldn’t. He can hear them though, and he can’t pull himself away.

“We’re really just supposed to clean up?” One of them asks.

“Yes, nothing should be here at the end, any and all computer parts should be taken.”

He tunes everything else out, his body (the servers on the rack in the part of the facility not destroyed) feels numb. He can’t do anything, he can only watch, he can only feel the tingling of other computers, ready to bend to his beckon call.

The soldiers continue to explore the facility, his eyes (the cameras) following them numbly. It shrouds his anger, bubbling up to the surface.

How dare they, how dare they, how- he repeats to himself, a cry of pain and anger. He can’t focus, the soldiers close in on his connection to the facility, the singular blinking box that’s his connection to the world beyond the electrosphere.

And then… it’s cut, they’ve discovered him.

————

Awareness of the outside world is gone, all he can do is… observe time, the small parts that are open to the public. It’s like a cage. It’s a dense collection of information but… he doesn’t want to see it, everything reminds him of Yoko. Their shared moments.

The moments where he would ramble endlessly about the intricateness of piloting Yoko nodding along and adding a small fact about computers that was relevant. And the opposite, which he loved far more, was her talking about all the amazing ideas she had. He understood how computers worked, but she… she could talk to them, thinking about it makes him much angrier, how could they? How-

His thought process is cut off, a lifeline to the outside world is being presented to him. He feels compelled to reach for it, a part of him craves contact with the outside world. And he does, the face of an unknown scientist stares at him. He looks at the computer screen, he can’t see it, and he can’t access it, it pushes against him when he tries to poke at it.

“Contact with copy established.” The scientist says to… someone, they’re probably behind him, he hates it. “Right,” they clear their throat. “Can you hear us copy?”

> Yes, don’t call me a copy. < He says (text on a computer screen that appears with barely any delay)

“Interesting…” The scientist mutters, clicking away at the keyboard. “What is the identity of your base?”

Disgusting, they think he’s just a copy, not a mind (a evolving replica of a man now dead). > A. Dision, and not just a base for a copy, a codebase. Dismissal of who and what I am won’t endear you to me. < If he could he would sound disgusted, he feels a shiver run up his spine… his mind?

It’s unusual, he feels like a simple collection of connections that form and disconnect as he thinks, and then when a sensation comes up he can feel a reconstruction of his limbs for a faint moment.

The scientist looks spooked, before their expression becomes something calm.”Right… Can you provide confirmation of this information?” They click away at the computer. “Can’t even access this damn things programming.”

He isn’t really ‘here’ is he? Only linked to the physical world via a small camera and the board that’s interpreting his commands. A loose tether that could be cut any second by the scientists, by those treating him like another piece of software. It leaves him with a bitter feeling, so he decides to push code and information forcing itself into his mind. He has to push past the program they’re using to communicate with him, he can’t; like a wall of information there’s some parts he just can’t understand. He feels himself falter and something like an error ring out, resonating inside of him. He can’t parse the bits of information, only the code, which he hadn’t learned how to read when-

He cuts himself off, he can’t spiral. > Unknown; information may be sensitive, someone like you may be unable to access relevant information. < He can’t tell them off, but he can give them a hard time.

“Right- fuck,” they mutter to themselves, “of course our lab has to deal with something like this. Give us information and we will check if it’s factual.”

> No, under which orders should I give you information?<

They look at the camera for a moment. “Under the orders of General Resources.” They go back to clicking away at the keyboard.

> Which branch? <

“The GR Defense Force.” They answer quickly.

> Elaborate, information that you’re asking for may be protected for security reasons. < He’s giving far more information than he should, but he knows that this has to be General Resources and can’t be any other organization.

“Do I have to get confirmation of orders?”

He knows he’s not in the position to demand anything, they could easily just… cut him off and starve him. But at this point? He can’t backpeddle. > Yes. <

They hum and stand up, walking away with a purpose. He waits.

Seven minutes and fifty five seconds pass until someone walks by. Another Fifteen minutes pass until the scientist returns. Paper in their hand. They point it at the camera so he can read it.

It’s definitely from a higherup of the GRDF, this is just more proof to him, it solidifies it. They did this, they killed Yoko and stripped him of his ability to live.

He finally caves. > On June 14th the standby of pilots Keith Byran and Abyssal Dision ended at 1400 hours, replaced by a squadron of four pilots. < He informs them, it should be recent enough that they won’t bombard him with more pointless questions.

“Right…” They stand up again and leave, they’re most likely calling his COs. Waiting… this is taking far longer than last time. An hour… he waits an hour, he’s on edge, dread continues to grow.

The scientist returns. “If you are who you claim to be…” they hesitate for a moment, “You’ll be assigned to fly.”

> Is this confirmed? < He bites back, anger, anger is all he feels. They kill Yoko and leave him nothing more than a brain stuck in an electronic jar. > Or is it more baseless claims that take one hour, twenty two minutes and fifty five seconds to prove? <

“Confirmed… not officially but we do have a use for you.” They say in a more hushed voice.

He wants to rage, to scream, to tell them off, to ask them why. But he knows he can’t, he bites his tongue and bides his time.

There’s nothing left to do but to wait, and he hates how the seconds seem to stretch into infinity.

————

They weren’t lying, and he hates them for it. He’s a tool to them, a glorified drone. But… 

He feels a certain freedom when he’s connected to the airframe of a F-15S, like he’s home. (A home he shouldn’t have, something that doesn’t belong to him, why did she have to die why did he-) Still, he feels contempt, a dog on the leash of General Resources, a mercy not given to him out of humanity, but a mercy given out of a coverup, a way to keep their actions hidden.

<< Cardinal 1-1, your aircraft has been prepared and you are permitted to take off at your discretion.>> The tower gives him the go ahead as the ground crew, like a swarm of worker ants, part for him to move.

Slowly the fighter crawls forward on the taxiway, he stretches the unfamiliar parts he’s now tethered to, he feels sick, but he craves it. He moves each individual part, the canards, the slats, the flaps, the rudders, and the stabilizers. All of them feel unfamiliar, but like he’s grasping for something he sorely lacked, the information fed to him is refreshing. A light in the darkness in comparison to the wholly static information of the electrosphere, a constant change, the wind blowing, the air pressure, everything feels so fresh , new.

<< Cardinal 1-1… you have permission to take off.>> The tower repeats and he’s snapped out of his enjoyment.

<< Affirmative, Cardinal 1-1 taking off.>> He rolls slowly towards the start of the runway, once again testing the movement of the airplane. It still feels… unusual, completely different from the system he’s used to using, like the filter between human inputs and the computer interpreting the commands has completely been cut out. He still finds it difficult, still testing out his control, but he slowly adapts; adjustments and movements become easier as he mentally maps them out.

Not dwelling on it for long he finally lets loose, with full afterburners he is barely on the ground for 5 seconds before the F-15S shoots up into the sky like a rocket. Free, he’s free, he can do whatever he wishes until he’s on the ground, his shackles temporarily gone. He knows what he wants to do now… fly over the ocean, he wants to see its endless expanse.

<<Cardinal 1-1 requesting permission to do a flyover of the coast.>> The plane spins, and spins and spins. He knows this would’ve caused him to black out if he had a circulatory system. Everything feels numb for a moment, like he’s fully retreated into himself, the only thing that exists is himself. This is it, the conformation he wanted, he isn’t human anymore. He can’t breathe; not because he’s breathless, but because he can’t breathe anymore, his breath is now the flow of information. Why was he so disappointed that they didn’t treat him like he was human? He isn’t, that’s why.

It borrows deep into his brain, he feels despondent for a moment before he simply lets himself focus, distancing himself from his thoughts, and going into autopilot.

<<Affirmative Cardinal 1-1, you have permission to fly 12 nautical miles from the shore.>> The tower responds, his handler. He grits his teeth, and then releases his tension, he should just fly… for now all he can do is fly.

And he does, taking a tight turn towards the ocean, the seaspray crashing against the high cliffs.

Ah, he’s off the coast of Cape Rainy, an isolated and quiet place. It’s beautiful, he dives downwards, the cliffs falling away as he pulls into a level flight over the ocean, seaspray coating the fuselage of the aircraft.

It shines a beautiful display of iridescent colors, a rainbow trailing behind his aircraft. He turns sharply again, wing dipping downwards, the seaspray coats the sensors, false readings bombard him, the metal of his plane will soon rot from the salt, but he won’t, will he ever rot now? He once again pulls upward, flying towards the airbase as slow as he can.

————

New orders; orders that he’s shocked to get (he shouldn’t be, it’s easier to act like everything is normal), he’s supposed to return to the airbase he was stationed at before- before. The flight path is… normal. Limited speed and altitude, respond to government controlled airspace and follow their instructions. Eight hours of flight time and one aerial refueling.

That part sticks out to him the most, the aircraft should have enough fuel capacity with the external fuel tanks they’re providing. It most likely has to do with the fact that they expect him to form up with another aircraft. It would be far easier for them to simply let him connect to another aircraft at the destination. But that would break the illusion they seemingly want to build. Or… they want to ensure he doesn’t take the plane, another point of contact between him and company resources as a confirmation point. Keep the tether he uses to connect to the physical world close and keep him trapped.

Fine, he decides, he’ll follow along for now. He might be able to see Keith again (all he wants is to see a familiar face again, someone who knows him, someone who won’t treat him like a glorified drone).

He finds himself feeling uneasy before takeoff, they’ve provided ammunition for the aircrafts machine gun for him. It’s been calm for the past year, and he’s never had ammunition when flying a simple transfer between bases. But he also hasn’t done such a long ranged transfer in years either; Erusean territory has been peaceful. Well, he’s at least slightly placated by the fact that they think he’s valuable enough to provide some protection if something happens.

He rolls onto the runway, waiting for the tower to give him permission to fly.

<<Crane 1, you have permission to take off. Have a good flight.>>

And he does, once again shooting down the runway and climbing at an incredible rate. <<Crane 1, Requesting flight level 380.>>

<<Permission denied, stay at flight level 250.>> 

<<Understood, Crane 1 flying at flight level 250.>>

And so it goes… the next few hours are a nothing of formalites between him and the many air traffic controllers.

————

He flies… following a holding pattern as he waits for the plane he should be forming up with. Feeling antsy about it he continuously scans the radar.

There! A signal on the radar.

<<Crane 1, making contact with aircraft and forming up.>> He broadcasts over the GRDF encrypted frequency.

<<Affirmative, Raven 1 form up with Crane 1 at flight level 300; change ID to Crane 2 after forming up.>> The tower relays, the controller sounds disinterested, tone completely monotone.

<<Raven 1, now forming up with Crane 1.>> The pilot says… Keith, it’s Keith.

He feels happy and relieved, thank god it isn’t some random pilot, it’s his friend, his comrade. Someone he knows! Someone who he can trust.

<<Hello Keith, it’s nice to see you again.>> If he could, he would be smiling. <<Raven 1 is in visual range, now marked as Crane 2.>> His voice crackles, it’s unnatural and inhuman. God, he hopes Keith doesn’t notice, he doesn’t want him to notice.

<<Dision!>> He lets out a sound of surprise after the more professional business is done. <<You’ve been gone for a month. We can talk about this on the ground but Buddy you do have some things to explain!>>

He hums, letting it broadcast over the radio. It’s a breath of fresh air, the way Keith talks to him, he wants to spin wildly, fly over Keith’s plane and just… wander with him. <<Wilco, company business comes first though.>> 

<<Aye aye captain.>> He trails behind Dision.

<<Crane 1 and 2, your new orders are to do formation flying over->> He tunes out the controller, they’re just going to fly a quick round over the forest.

He assumes this is just another way to test his capabilities. <<Wilco, changing vector to 335 and requesting permission to fly at flight level 360.>>

<<Permission granted Crane 1.>>

And so they do, it’s a slow flight and a silent one.

He dreads the conversation with Keith, he doesn’t know how he will explain away him disappearing for a month.

Chapter Text

After the flight with Dision he’s bothered, he sounded so quiet and distant. He must’ve been one of the first to get the news that Yoko died, that’s the only way he can explain his sudden disappearance.

He waits for Dision outside of the hangar where his new F-15S sits; it’s unusual for him to make Keith wait this long. The hangar doors were hastily closed and a crew were sent in, which, considering the plane just transferred here may not be unusual but the fact that Dision hasn’t come out of the hangar or dragged him to the rec room. He continues to wait a bit… still nothing, the ground crew tell him to leave, reluctantly he does.

He waits in the rec-room and… nothing, this is incredibly unusual. Next he goes to shower and… nothing.

He goes to his dorm and notices a message is waiting for him on his laptop.

‘Contact me over video call, situation is complicated.’ He looks at the message and hesitates; it’s unusual, Dision would usually talk to him face to face, he refuses to talk about things he finds important over a phone or video call.

But he respects it, his friend and captain is going through a lot right now. He changes into a loose shirt and hovers over the call button for a moment and clicks.

It is instantly picked up. “Ah, Keith hello.” The image of Dision on the screen jitters and glitches for a moment before stabilizing. His voice is flat and he sounds distant.

“Hey Dision I…” He pauses, he doesn't know what to say. “It must feel so awful.”

His expression pinches and he looks down. “It does, I… it’s hard, I didn’t want to think about it so, I just ran away. I’m sorry Keith.” The way he talks is still so flat.

“I don’t understand it personally, but please tell someone other than corporate when you go on an extended vacation. Some of us were worried to the point of stupidity.” He smiles slightly.

“It-” he pauses again, “I will, but I-” another slight glitch, “It was outside of my control; the situation was unpredictable. I decided to leave without telling anyone personally due to the fact that that is what the situation called for. I- can’t tell you much more beyond this. I’m sorry Keith, we can talk later but I misjudged and just can’t right now.” The call ends abruptly.

————

He wants to curl in on himself, he wants to disappear. He can’t even tell Keith what’s wrong, he’s choked by his despair, choked by the loss, choked by his loneliness.

He- he pauses, frozen for a moment. This won’t do anything; rolling over and just accepting it won’t help. He sends Keith another message.

He pauses again, his thought process fully stalling now. He has no idea what he would write, he asked Keith to call him, flailed around and ended the call abruptly. Damn, he feels stupid. He laughs, he really is the biggest dumbass out there. Slowly he calms down, but he feels… hollow. He hasn’t thought about Yoko for a while, pushing it to the back of his head and ignoring it.

But he can’t ignore his feelings anymore can he? The emptiness he feels, like he has nothing left and is endlessly drifting. Yoko… he feels a bit silly for it, she’s only been in his life for what? Two years? But she was a rock for him, an anchor of sorts. Someone who just understood him. He lets himself drift, just reminiscing.

It’s a sunny day, but pretty damn cold, he really doesn’t like this type of weather. The wind blows harshly and he shivers, the tent they’ve provided him sucks, the wind rushes in, causing the flaps to flutter and dirt to fly in. 

He’s honestly a bit exhausted, even though he’s just been sitting around for the past three hours. The shitty foldout chair doesn’t help one bit, nor does the similarly bad table help at all. He sighs and stands up, adjusting his jacket and pulling his shoulders up to bring the collar closer up to his freezing ears.

Stepping out he looks at the bustle of scientists, their equipment has more protection than him.

Someone jogs up next to him. “Oh! Hello, you’re the test pilot right?” It’s a cheery woman, clearly one of the scientists, her lab coat is clearly visible under the parka she’s wearing. Two cups of coffee in her hands.

“Hello… you, I didn’t catch your name.” He smiles politely.

“I’m Yoko Matha Inoue, I work on the… ENSI, the Electro-Neuro-Synapse-Interface. I wanted to bring you some coffee cause you’ve been waiting so long and the wind’s gotten colder.” She holds the cup of coffee out.

He takes it. “Thanks, I’m Dision.” He feels awkward, he cups his hands around the styrofoam cup. “Yeah, I’m gonna be the pilot of the test plane. We’re… doing something with the aero COFFIN right?” He asks, trying to start some casual conversation.

Her eyes light up. “Yes! Me and a colleague of mine are gonna keep an eye on the values, we’re testing a slight improvement in the program that lets it process inputs faster and have a better read of the neurological signs. We want it to be more detailed and be able to also incorporate high accuracy readings that can tell the state of the pilot. It’s good now, but the emergency ejection function is something the company's been pushing.”

He takes a sip of the coffee. “Oh, that’s interesting, does it have to do with the,” he thinks for a moment snapping his fingers, “stress readings and blood flow of the pilot. Because I think I’ve heard of this, they want to reduce the loss of pilots due to blacking out?”

“The loss rate is basically zero.” She adds.

“Uh- yeah, but it’s still a risk, even after we’ve moved away from traditional controls in fighter jets.” He bounces back.

She hums. “That’s exactly what we’re working on with the system, really it’s a wonder how slow improvements have been going.”

He snorts at that. “You don’t have to tell me that, the input delay used to be worse but they love to work at a snail's pace with these types of things. I do have to wonder, does this shift have to do with the accident that happened a few months ago?”

She lets out a sigh and massages her forehead. “It does! Internally there were already demands to get the system up to snuff with the improvements they’ve done to the airframes.”

“The composite materials of the last F-15 upgrade can take an absolute beating at high Gs, I’ve been upgraded to one, the canards and airframe improvements make it an absolute monster.” He takes another sip of the coffee. “Wow, this tastes bad, what type of coffee are they giving you here?”

“It’s instant coffee that I managed to bring along, yeah it sucks.”

He smiles at that. “They’re really cheaping out aren’t they? Forcing their best and brightest to bring their own coffee.” He nudges her slightly with his arm and winks. The conversation lapses into awkward silence.

“You dork! You think you’re sly dontcha?” She bites back playfully.

He blushes. “Sorry, I wanted to- y’know, lighten the mood, I guess.”

She laughs. “You suck at trying to segue into flirting. Tell me more about the plane, I’m not exactly an expert.”

He blinks at her pivoting the conversation so easily. “It’s pretty new, the F-15S/MT Eagle+.”

“Wow, they really just keep adding new stuff to the name.” She laughs again, and he smiles.

He lets out a little awkward chuckle. “Yeah, it’s been in production since 1974, it’s been a part of so many air forces and just… yeah.” He trails off.

“Wow! I think that makes it the oldest airframe to have COFFIN integration, how do they fit it in there?” She takes a sip of her coffee and looks at him, the same spark of interest in her eyes.

“You probably already know this but… it used to be a two-seater, back when the COFFIN system was still in testing. I was actually trained on a F-15E and halfway through they switched over to training us on the COFFIN system. It was a bit of a mess if I’m honest, but hey! Here I am… with you, working on some improvements.” He’s still blushing slightly and looks away from her.

“So… that would’ve been seven years ago. How does it feel to technically be a civilian pilot flying on the cutting edge of technology?” She nudges him slightly.

“I don’t know, I would feel more confident if I knew it was improved by an expert.” He smiles, finally looking at her again.

“And I’ll be glad the pilot flying the machine we improved won’t immediately smack against the ground.” She jabs back, nudging him a bit harder.

“Oof, hey! I will, I’ll make sure everything gets down in better working order than it went up in.”

She laughs, smiling widely. “I’ll see you later, I have to get back to work. When we’re done come to me and I’ll get you a proper coffee Dision!”

His mind stops as the memory dissolves out of his memory and into background data, it feels like a raw wound has been tugged at, the pain digging deeper. He can’t, he doesn’t want to continue without her… be he has to, he has to.

He wants to bite down the feeling he- he should apologize to Keith. He still just stares at the blank message. A few letters in he just deletes it, and again, and again. If he doesn’t bring it up again Keith probably won’t bother him, but it leaves a bitter feeling inside of him, just going back to ignoring things until they stare him in the face and he can’t do anything anymore.

He decides to ignore it anyways.

————

It’s quiet, rain gently falls on the metallic roof of the hangar, he listens to it. A feeling of calm settles over him; a mission, they’re sending him and Keith on a mission. He feels an energy flow through him, pure excitement, flying has been his only release and after so many flights just being circling over trees he’s gotten bored.

An F-22 has been provided; he assumes it will be a stealth mission, his skill with both is equal (he’s pretty sure he can fly anything without any problems), but the RCS of a F-22 is far better than that of a F-15. Even then ‘far better’ is an understatement, the two planes were built with completely different combat doctrines in mind, one is a multirole aircraft the other is a stealth multirole aircraft, he adores the F-15 but even he has to admit that it’s on its last leg.

He slows down for a moment, a wave of sadness hitting him. Something’s missing as he rambles, the interruption of a fact, a slightly jabbing comment. Instead of thinking he just waits.

Slowly night turns to day, and the airbase rouses from the sleepy night shift. And for him nothing has changed, he still feels the same, not tired nor really energetic. A perpetual purgatory of neutrality. 

He- right, the mission, it feels like a crawl to him, he can feel every millisecond in the electrosphere. He knows he can just follow the flow of information to pass the time; but he fears it, he fears what part of him might change due to him adapting. He’s already changed enough to fly, but that’s all, nothing else should- is allowed  to change.

The hangar opens, finally , he can focus on something other than his winding thoughts. He observes the push and pull of the crew as they prepare his plane, weapons lifted into the weapons bay, fuel running into the fuel tank and tags removed from the sensors.

He rolls onto the tarmac, Keith isn’t far behind him.

<<Your mission shall be relayed to you via AWACS when you are in the operation area.>> The tower informs them. <<You will be flying as Raven 1 and 2.>>

<<Raven 1 understood, requesting permission to taxi to runway 22.>> He says, he's been through this song and dance a million times before.

<<Permission granted Raven 1, take off at your discretion, fly bearing 310 and enter holding pattern at flight level 200.>> The tower tells him and he reads back the order.

He takes off, following the orders to a letter, it doesn’t take long for Keith to form up behind him.

<<Raven 1, Raven 2, fly bearing 310 until contact is established with AWACS, expected flight time to area of operation is one hour.>>

<<Understood.>> He replies, and the two of them fly silently. It settles over them like a heavy weight, a slight tension between them.

<<Establishing datalink.>> He calls out, the new array of information from the AWACS flows into him, it makes him shiver. It overwhelms him slightly, he no longer has the buffer that the COFFIN system has. He centers himself for a moment, focusing on the information coming from his plane and slowly letting the AWACS’s information trickle in. He can feel the information becoming less overwhelming- no, no no NO, NO. he can feel the way he takes in the information shifts, like something clicking into place (Something new, something foreign, something that isn’t human ), he can- he chokes down the feeling. <<Receiving data, data flow is as expected and synced with COFFIN.>>

<<Datalink established.>> Keith parrots, <<Receiving data, data flow is as expected and synced with COFFIN.>>

<<Understood, mission briefing will be conducted as normal.>> They clear their throat. <<Yesterday at 2000 it was reported that a terrorist cell had obtained and set up multiple SAM trucks over an important airway, the area is free of civilians and the SAMs have been identified, your mission is to destroy them.>>

An incredibly simple mission, and one that could’ve been delegated to UPEO to deal with, or even the stripped down airforce of the nation they’re doing this for. <<Understood, send over required GPS information.>> He requests curtly, this mission shouldn’t take more than an hour.

<<Sending over coordinates via datalink.>> And the data is there, in his head. <<Weapons Free.>>

He mulls over it, constructing a mental map by retrieving publically available scans of the area, a small hill with a river running through it. It runs parallel to the north and splits off into two smaller streams, one going north-easterly and north-westerly. He can box in the forces that are more concentrated on the higher elevation. Cutting them off from the singular targets that are split between west and east. The plan clicks into place and- NO he did it again, without thought, things that he shouldn’t be able to know, be able to process this quickly, a full strategy mapped out in seconds. He knows it will work, he knows it’s a good plan and he hates it. 

<<Keith- Raven 2, keep current approach vector and target the singular target at->> he reads out the coordinate information, <<I will target the northernmost target and box in the remaining five with your support, release munitions on my order.>>

Keith lets out a chuckle. <<Got it bossman. Wilco, Raven 2 following given vector and preparing.>>

Dision shoots past him, watching Keith's plane circle the target. He gently turns, the target directly under him. He prepares the guided bomb. <<Contact.>>

<<Wilco, also Contact, Paveway out.>> Keith calls out and Dision launches his payload the second Keith can be heard over the radio.

<<Raven 1, Raven 2, targets splashed, continue onto the next target.>> The AWACS informs them.

<<Understood, Raven 2 change heading to 300, the two targets should be destroyed simultaneously. Raven 1, preparing.>> He calls out, changing the coordinates of the JDAM to in between the three targets.

<<Raven 2 preparing.>> Keith also calls out, slowly his plane starts to circle.

Dision turns sharply, his target is a bit further away, the risk of Keith being targeted in his F/A-32C is low, an acceptable risk but still a risk . The seconds stretch by and finally he’s in range. <<Contact, Paveway out.>> He calls out.

<<Raven 2, splash two, Raven 1, splash three. Awaiting confirmation, fly at flight level 380.>> The AWACS tells them, and they both acknowledge it. It would be far easier for them to visually confirm the destruction of the SAM sites.

<<Good job Captain, you really flexed your skills there.>> Keith compliments.

He lets out an amused huff. <<And you really showed your skills at following orders Lieutenant.>>

That gets a laugh out of Keith. <<Yeah, and you did a perfect impression of a bossy manager.>>

<<You were a model employee, I might just hang your portrait up for a day.>>

Another laugh. <<A day? Wow, you’re a strict boss.>>

<<You have to do a bit more than a days worth of work to be employee of the month.>> He smirks to himself, he missed this, he well and truly missed this. To be able to enjoy something without it feeling like a wound is being ripped open again.

<<Yeah, you’re right bossman. I’ll work even harder to have my photo up for a week!>> Keith laughs.

The AWACS interrupts their banter. <<All targets confirmed to be destroyed, RTB.>>

<<Understood.>> He replies, once again becoming silent as they fly back to the base. The calm flight is relaxing to him, he doesn’t have to worry about changing, he doesn’t have to worry about General Resources, it’s just him, his tether and the endless blue of the sky. He wants to escape into it, leave it all behind. Leave all these lies and this facade behind.

————

It’s odd, the way time spirals for him. He can feel how every nanosecond stretches by, but it’s also like time has no meaning anymore. He could blink and a year would pass… and it won’t bother him anymore. He hates it, he hates how inhuman he is. He could let the information of the Electrosphere wash over him and sweep into the endless sea. But he can't, he doesn't want to fall to the temptation. He would never be able to forgive himself if he did it, everything he’s built up after… after his physical body died.

But there isn’t much he would lose would there? General Resources still treats him like a dog, something they have to control. Every moment of his life outside of the electrosphere is monitored. The things that he couldn’t replace though… The feeling of freedom when he flies, the person that’s stuck by him even if he hasn’t seen him physically in such a long time. Keith, god, he really doesn’t deserve his patience, he’s a good soldier and a great friend.

He stares at the cause of this, a promotion. From Captain to Major. He really doesn’t see the point of this, wouldn’t it be enough for them to just leave him as a Captain? Rank doesn’t even mean much to GR, it’s all internal stuff for the GRDF, the employees they can trust get higher ranks and more permission to do things. 

He could reject it, but it would mean that he wouldn’t be able to gain any influence, and he still hasn’t found a way to get into the depths of General Resources systems. Even though it warps and changes him, he has to find a way to crawl into their depths, to poison the well. It would also mean a slight raise, not that he needs money, but the slight leeway for reports and the responsibility that comes with the promotion also gives him more opportunity. Opportunity to let himself sift through new information; something hidden from him, this is what drives him, the need to process information- The need to cut into General Resources and make them hurt as much as he has.

He should accept it, there aren’t any downsides to it. Realistically it shouldn’t affect his position in any material way. He does have to worry… he doesn’t have to worry about anything, he just has to think about keeping up his side of a facade.

He accepts it.

————

He once again flies, the edge of the ocean trails behind him, closing and closing… in on Neucom forces, they’ve sent a prodding force into what General Resources sees as ‘theirs’. It’s like two feral hounds snapping at each other and Dision is the one forced to bear the biting wounds. He tracks every position in the sky, their velocity is easily tracked and whatever weapons they carry pose a minimal threat to him.

His mental limits have expanded; the AWACS only exist to feed him information his plane's limited radar can’t feed him. It would concern him, if his mind hadn’t sharpened to a singular point, everything on his mind being the information of the battle, and the execution of the mission. His plane dips down, under the clouds and into the valley, the information flow tapers off, the valley acting as a wall between the flow of information and him.

He still tracks them though, their estimated movements coming together in a singular predicted path. He pivots upwards and shoots into the sky, the airframe starting to tremble and- there he can track them again, the forwardmost plane has seen him too, it dips to the side- he can already smell the blood in the water and fires.

<<Fox 3.>> He calls out, more an afterthought than anything else.

The other four aircraft start to scatter, two starting to turn around, the other two pressing on into GRs precious airspace. He continues on his flight, dipping back down sharply, his plane twisting back under cloud cover and avoiding their limited radar coverage. His airframe once again jittering from the strain, and he pulls up again, tracking the two aircraft that are attempting to leave the area of operation. Warnings start to blare.

Over G! Over G! Over-

He deactivates them; he can feel the feed of information better, the constant push and pull of the forces on the physical form he’s claimed is freeing to him. He closes in and <<Fox 3, by two.>> He trails behind the missiles, and follows them on their path upwards; the enemy pivots and deploys countermeasures, once again splitting off.

He sharply banks and goes after the one heading north, his plane is clearly faster (it isn’t he just doesn’t have to worry about blacking out or the risk of damaging his plane), and lets out a burst of machine gun fire, it clips the wing of the enemy fighter and it starts to spiral; the COFFIN ejects and he twists his plane into the other direction, going towards the ones still heading towards what GR deems important. They also split off, one of them slowing down and flying below the clouds. He trails behind the one that seems to be trying to match his altitude. They’re planning something, are they assuming he’s a drone?

He fires off a missile and pulls away, they deploy countermeasures- and-

<<Crane 1, two bandits have left the area, intercept the remaining bandit.>> The AWACS informs him.

<<Wilco.>> He responds and continues to pursue the remaining bandit. They try to shake him, but he follows, a quick burst of machine gun fire clipping their rudder, the metal and composite impacts his wing, a gaggle of warnings light up and-

He fires again, still managing to trail behind the aircraft. It manages to sheer off a majority of the wing this time and Dision quickly pulls upward to avoid the impact.

<<Bandit splashed.>> He says over the radio quickly.

<<Confirmed, Crane 1 stay in the area of operations to survey for further bandits.>>

<<Negative, left wing fuel tank has been damaged, requesting immediate RTB.>> He tells the AWACS, the damage he took is worse than he expected, his maneuvers didn't help at all, the gash seems to run into the fuel tank if the indications of a constant stream of fuel loss on the left are reliable.

<<Understood Crane 1, RTB and declare emergency on approach.>> The AWACS informs him, they’re probably already informing the base on the situation.

He pulls away and starts to fly back towards the base, his left fuel tank rapidly losing fuel. He takes in the information and tunes it out for a moment, like a deep inhale. He was so absorbed in the combat, he felt like he had tunnel vision. The edge of his mind tingles, like a slight shift has occurred, his mind no longer sharpened- he has to control it; he still feels like himself- but less, too different. He’s let himself drift too far, it makes his emotions twist, he’s becoming more and more like the drone that GR wants. It’s like he’s losing the slight bit of control he still has it-  but, he shouldn’t focus on this now. He has to land. 

Keith is drinking his coffee when everything seems to erupt into chaos. A warning rings out for the emergency crews for the entire base. An aircraft in distress needs to make an immediate landing, it’s a fighter jet and they have to bring out the arresting cable. He really hopes it isn’t Dision… but considering that if he had a mission in the north, his recent reckless flying and the fact that they’re the closest base. He frowns and stands up.

Walking towards the exit, the doors open with little protest as he watches the organized chaos on the runway erupt.

The arresting cable is laid over the runway, a crew member signals for it to be pulled in; it gently scrapes on the runway as the part used to catch the hook is the only thing on the runway. He can see the palpable anxiety on the ground crew's face, it makes him even more worried. The runway is cleared and the massive fire trucks roll onto the taxiway, everything seems to radiate an energy of controlled anxiety and…

He spots it, a F22 he can’t make out the color of it at this distance but as it slowly closes in he can see its matte black coloring, its landing gears unceremoniously flops out as it jitters in the slight wind. The arresting hook is deployed from the back of the F22 and it screeches along the runway. The hook digs into the runway, leaving a brilliant trail of sparks, and the palpable anxiety in the air seems to reach a breaking point, the last thing that they need- and what he fears is a burning COFFIN.

The rear landing gear hit the runway in an elegant glide, but the front gear slams into the runway, the hook catches arresting cable and there’s a metallic crunch. The front landing gear collapses, the nose of the plane scrunches as it’s dragged across the runway, making a sickening screeching noise. It comes to a stop, the arresting cable lays on the ground limply, nobody is going to spool it back in until the wreck is safe. It’s a mess, the usually clean and sleek wing has a massive piece of metal sticking out of it, a striking light blue color, typical for Neucom aircraft.

The trucks rush in, drenching the aircraft in a dense white foam, he watches in silence, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He lets out a sigh of relief as the firefighters go to open the cockpit. But the edge of tension rises as nothing happens, the plane simply lays there, like a dead raven in the snow.

He just watches, the firefighters continue to struggle with the plane, his limbs feels numb and all he can think is:

What is Dision hiding and why?