Zoey Arc Chapter 16: When Foxes Fly

Zoey and Etrius stood on the concrete tarmac, the decrepit airfield around them quiet except for the occasional howl of the wind. The GHI VTOL-G7 Donnerdrache, its massive quad rotors inactive, loomed like a mechanical giant behind them. The KKP-42 stealth tankette, with its sleek, angular lines, and Zoey’s battered Mantis APC waited to be loaded into the VTOL’s cavernous cargo bay.

Zoey, in her Vulpes Titan suit, moved with a methodical, heavy stride, each step echoing as the suit's weight met the concrete. The exosuit's bulk made her look like a crimson-and-black juggernaut, the alien crystal powering it faintly humming. She glanced over her shoulder at Etrius, who was checking the strapping points in the VTOL's bay, making sure they could secure the heavy vehicles.

Etrius paused, turning his green eyes toward her, his expression hidden behind the shadows of his hood and cloak. “You’re sure about this, Zoey? Heading back to Sigma City?” His voice carried the same detached, analytical tone that Zoey had grown used to, but there was a note of concern beneath it.

Zoey exhaled, the sound distorted slightly by the suit’s external speakers. “Yeah, I’m sure. Not thrilled about it, but...” She turned back to the APC, lifting a crate of ammo as if it weighed nothing, before securing it in the hold. “It makes sense. The city’s got resources we need. Besides, if those alien assholes try anything near the airfield, they’ll be in for a bad time.” She smirked, though it went unseen under the armored helm of the suit.

Etrius nodded, continuing to secure the Mantis with heavy-duty straps. “You’re not wrong. The SCDF doesn’t take kindly to threats, especially around a place like the only airfield in the city. They’d probably reduce those aliens to ash before they even realized what hit them.”

Zoey sighed, leaning against the APC for a moment, the suit groaning under its own weight. “Yeah, but you know what I hate more than those fucking aliens? Bureaucracy. Once we’re back in Sigma, we’ll be buried up to our asses in red tape. Medical checks, repair requisitions... everything’s slow in that city, especially when they start asking questions. Hell, they’ll probably make me sit through some goddamn debriefs.” She grimaced, the thought of delays weighing on her mind.

Etrius gave her a sidelong glance. “It’s better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere. Or getting hunted down again before we’re ready. Your body…” He trailed off. “You’re changing, Zoey. We don’t have the luxury of ignoring that anymore.”

Zoey’s jaw tightened. She knew he was right, but the idea of delaying her search for answers about her origins stung. “I know. But don’t think I’m backing down on this hunt. We’re only doing this because I’m out of options right now. Once I’m patched up, we’re back on the trail.”

Etrius secured the last strap, giving it a firm tug to test its hold. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. But we need you in one piece to fight those aliens, and I’m not dragging your corpse through the streets of Sigma.” His tone softened, just barely. “Besides, we’ve got time. Those aliens aren’t going to risk starting a war in the city if they have half a brain.”

Zoey grunted in agreement, though a flicker of frustration crossed her mind. “Yeah, they’ll keep their heads down until they think they’ve got the upper hand. I just hope the SCDF doesn’t get in our way too much. Last thing I need is some rookie soldier treating me like a walking biohazard.”

Etrius chuckled, a rare sound from him. “Knowing you, that might be the most entertaining part of this whole mess.”

Zoey smirked under her helmet, the faint humor lifting some of her irritation. “Keep dreaming, Kitty. Let’s just get this done and get out of here before something else shows up.” She pushed off from the APC, her Titan suit’s servos whirring as she moved to assist Etrius with guiding the KKP-42 into position.

With a coordinated effort, they maneuvered the vehicles into the VTOL’s bay, each mindful of the limited space. Etrius double-checked the balance, ensuring the weight distribution wouldn’t throw off the VTOL’s stability during flight. Zoey, despite the strain of her injuries and the discomfort from the scales on her body, found a sense of focus in the routine. Even if returning to Sigma meant delays, at least it was a step toward being ready for the battles yet to come.

As they finished strapping everything down, Zoey turned to Etrius one last time before heading toward the VTOL’s cockpit. “Let’s just hope Sigma’s got what we need... and doesn’t ask for more than we can give.”

Etrius met her gaze, his expression hidden beneath the shadows. “They’ll take what they can get, and so will we. Now, let’s get airborne before that changes.” With a shared understanding, they boarded the VTOL, the roar of its engines soon filling the airfield as they prepared for the journey back to Sigma City.

Zoey sat in the cockpit of the Donnerdrache, her eyes scanning the heads-up display that integrated seamlessly with her Vulpes Titan suit. The suit’s advanced neural interface made the cockpit feel like an extension of her body. Every flicker on the external cameras, every subtle change in the VTOL's engine readings, flowed directly to her senses. She tightened her grip on the flight stick, feeling the hum of the alien power core deep in the suit's chest. She would have liked to leave it in the Mantis to recharge the APC's batteries, but she was in no condition to leave the suit, and if worse came to worse, the suit had rocket boots of its own.

Etrius occupied the commander's seat beside her, checking the turret's diagnostics while keeping an eye on the cargo bay through a separate display. He worked quickly and methodically, the stress of a short trip turned weeks-on-the-run visible in the way his shoulders hunched and his movements lagged. But he pushed through it, muttering to himself as he double-checked the belly turret’s targeting systems.

“Engines are green, stabilizers locked,” Zoey announced, her voice cold and focused as she scanned the remaining checks. Her reptilian features caught the dim cockpit light, casting sharp shadows over the scales that now covered her face.

“Copy that,” Etrius replied, his tone terse as he wrapped up his loadmaster duties. He glanced at the ammo belts and power cables securing the APC and KKP-42 in the cargo bay, ensuring nothing would shift during takeoff. The Donnerdrache's cargo bay was filled with the heavy presence of their equipment—if anything came loose, it could spell disaster mid-flight. “All strapped down. Turret’s prepped, though I’ll be ready to adjust if it decides to act up.”

Zoey nodded, more to herself than him. “Good. No room for surprises.” She toggled the VTOL’s external lights and powered up the main engines, their roar echoing across the empty airfield. With a flick of her wrist, the massive rotors began to spin, gradually lifting the Donnerdrache off its wheels.

She glanced over at Etrius, who was adjusting the comms panel, preparing for contact with Sigma City’s air traffic control. He ran through phrases under his breath, trying to make his tone sound official. Zoey smirked slightly at his effort—he never liked dealing with the bureaucracy of the city, but he knew it would be his job once they entered airspace. He caught her look and rolled his eyes, muttering, “Someone’s got to deal with them, and it sure as hell won’t be you. As you know, I also have experience dealing with 'all due respect' types.”

Zoey snorted. “You’re not wrong. I’ll leave the sweet-talking to you, Kitty. Let’s hope they’re feeling generous today.” She focused back on the controls as they began taxiing down the cracked and overgrown runway, the VTOL lumbering forward like a slumbering beast. The weight of the APC and tankette made the controls sluggish at first, but the suit’s integration allowed her to compensate with ease.

The runway stretched out before them, a dark strip framed by weeds and forgotten buildings. Zoey pushed the throttle forward, feeling the VTOL respond as it surged ahead. As they reached the center of the runway, she activated the final pre-flight sequence, checking the power distribution to the rotors and the lift systems one last time. “All systems go, Etrius. Ready for liftoff?”

Etrius finished tightening the last strap in the cargo bay and slid back into his seat. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this thing in the air.”

With a grunt of effort, Zoey pulled back on the flight stick, the VTOL’s engines roaring to life. The Donnerdrache lifted smoothly, the rotors cutting through the night air as they gained altitude. The old airfield shrank beneath them, swallowed by the surrounding darkness as they left the ruins behind.

As the massive megacity came into distant view on the horizon, Etrius adjusted the comms and started practicing his lines again, sounding almost rehearsed. Zoey let him work, focusing on keeping the flight smooth. Despite their usual banter, the weariness in Etrius’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. She knew he was running on fumes, holding himself together through sheer stubbornness.

Once they reached cruising altitude, the strain of the last few weeks seemed to ease, the hum of the engines filling the silence between them. Zoey leaned back, relaxing her grip on the controls as the autopilot engaged. Etrius glanced over, his voice softer now that the urgency had passed. 

"Holy shit, Zo. We did it." Etrius said, relief painting his voice.

"Without a doubt. As much as we never talked about it, taking the Mantis back would have ended in a fuckin fireball. Even though we dealt with that walker together, the KKP was really the star. No way the Mantis would have held up on its own."

"I agree," Etrius said pensively. "The KKP drew a lot of fire that the Mantis probably never would have survived, even with your improvised armor paneling. Half of the solar panels are busted, the frame is compromised on the left rear, and I am not sure the battery pack is in great shape. I had to drive over some big rocks."

"Course you did, Kitty. Got any plans for when we get home?"

“First thing I’m gonna do when we get back home? Sleep for a week, maybe two.”

Zoey huffed out a laugh, though the rasp in her voice betrayed her exhaustion. “Not me. I’m getting the biggest, spiciest chicken sandwich I can find. I’ve had enough field rations to last a lifetime.”

Etrius smirked, leaning back in his seat as he adjusted the displays. “You're the one who was in charge of food for this trip.”

She rolled her eyes, settling into the rhythm of the flight. “I didn't plan on taking an extended vacay, stripe-ass.”

Their brief respite was shattered as a sudden, insistent beeping filled the cockpit. Zoey’s gaze snapped to the radar warning receiver, the red light blinking urgently. The Doppler readout showed no immediate threats, but the RWR’s tone told a different story. They were being watched—targeted, maybe even locked onto.

Etrius’s hands flew across the controls, scanning through the systems. “What is that? No missiles on the readout. Could be a tracking beam. But from where?”

Zoey gritted her teeth, feeling a chill run through her. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got company, and I’m betting it’s our scaly friends. Hold on tight, Etrius. Things are about to get rough.” She tightened her grip on the flight stick, ready to push the VTOL into evasive maneuvers if their uninvited guests decided to take a shot.

"Are you fucking kidding me? We just got moving again," Etrius said, allowing his full frustration to show. He rarely swore, but now he was genuinely mad, and ready to take on whoever was trying to postpone his nap.

As the Donnerdrache cut through the night sky, Zoey’s eyes darted between the external camera feeds, searching the darkness beyond. Her instincts took over as the RWR continued to shriek in the confined cockpit. She eased the Donnerdrache into hover mode, flipping switches with a practiced motion. The roar of the main engines shifted pitch as they pivoted, allowing the VTOL to hold steady in midair. The alien vessels, sleek and angular, had already shown their preference for high-speed passes, but now they would have to adjust to their prey's sudden change in tactics.

Etrius grinned as he felt the VTOL steady beneath him, his hands dancing across the controls for the 20mm autocannon turret mounted on the Donnerdrache’s belly. “Damn, you’re giving me a shot?” he asked, almost sounding surprised.

Zoey shot him a quick glance through her helmet's visor, her expression hidden but her amusement clear in her tone. “Damn right I am. Make it count, Kitty.”

Etrius settled into his seat, his grip firm on the turret’s joystick. The VTOL’s belly turret swiveled smoothly, the barrel locking onto the first alien craft as it arced through the night sky in a wide turn. The alien fighters had a sleek, predatory shape, with thrusters that flared brightly against the darkness. Their agility was impressive, but in hover mode, the Donnerdrache was an entirely different beast—capable of rapid shifts in altitude and strafing maneuvers that kept the alien vessels guessing.

The alien craft swept past, attempting to disorient them with a barrage of energy pulses. The greenish beams lanced across the VTOL’s hull, but the aged and battle-worn exterior shrugged them off, the unpainted metal reflecting most of the energy harmlessly away. Sparks flew where a few pulses hit exposed components, but the damage was minimal. Zoey clenched her teeth, the vibrations of the impacts resonating through her suit. “Annoying bastards, aren’t they?”

“Annoying, but predictable, kinda like you.” Etrius shot back, a hard edge in his voice. He zeroed in on the nearest fighter as it banked for another pass, its pilot’s overconfidence betraying them. He squeezed the trigger, and the Donnerdrache’s autocannon roared to life, spitting out a stream of heavy rounds. Tracers lit up the sky, slicing through the dark toward the alien vessel. The rounds found their mark, tearing into the fighter’s hull. A fireball erupted as the rounds ripped through the engine, sending the craft spiraling out of control before exploding in a violent flash.

The remaining alien fighter pulled back, widening its arc as if reassessing the situation. Zoey grinned behind her helmet, pushing the controls forward and easing the VTOL into a sudden rise, gaining altitude. “Save the ammo, E. It's my turn.”

The VTOL’s altitude held steady as Zoey disengaged her restraints and moved to the cargo bay, her power armor compensating for the sudden shift in pressure. She grabbed her custom-modified PTRS-41, the anti-materiel rifle nearly the size of her own body, and braced against an open hatch that had come loose.

Etrius kept his focus on tracking the alien fighter’s movements, but the radio crackled suddenly with an unfamiliar voice, speaking in broken, taunting phrases. “Pathetic... your ship... relic of a dead era... think you can escape?”

Etrius barely blinked, his face expressionless as the taunts echoed through the cockpit. “That all you got? Weak,” he muttered to himself. He found the alien’s efforts more laughable than anything—throwing insults without knowing who he was. Let them think they had the upper hand; he’d let his aim speak for him.

Meanwhile, Zoey steadied her rifle, waiting for the alien fighter to complete its turn. Her Vulpes Titan suit interfaced directly with the Donnerdrache’s targeting systems, enhancing her vision with precise overlays that tracked the fighter’s trajectory. As it finally banked back toward them, she exhaled slowly, settling into the familiar rhythm of the shot. Her finger squeezed the trigger.

The PTRS-41 bucked, but steady in her impossibly strong grip, the recoil absorbed by the armor’s hydraulics. The special high-explosive round tore through the air, striking the fighter just below the cockpit. The impact sent a shockwave through the vessel, shattering its sleek canopy and obliterating the pilot inside. It twisted violently before disintegrating in a cloud of fire and debris.

Zoey let out a satisfied breath, lowering the rifle as the remains of the second fighter rained down, burning bright against the night. She closed the hatch and made her way back to the cockpit, securing herself in the pilot’s seat once more. “Easy as pie. Now I want pie.”

Etrius glanced back, giving her a tired but genuine smile. “Nice shot, Zo. Now, how about we get back on course before any of their friends show up?” Etrius leaned back, the adrenaline fading as he ran a quick systems check. “Looks like the front landing gear hydraulics took a hit—line’s busted. It’s stuck down.”

Zoey glanced at the display, then shrugged. “It’s a VTOL. We don’t need to worry about that till we’re back on the ground.” She set a course back to Sigma City, the lights of the city already visible in the distance. “Now, let’s hope ATC doesn’t give us too much grief for the fireworks.”

Zoey kept the Donnerdrache on edge, but her concentration was broken by the emergence of more blips on the radar—multiple signals, closing in fast.

“Shit, we’ve got more of them incoming—squadron-sized,” she growled, her hands tightening around the flight stick. Etrius, who had been leaning back for a moment’s rest, was instantly alert, eyes snapping open as the radar screen lit up with hostile contacts.

As Zoey jerked the VTOL to avoid the initial wave of energy bolts from the alien craft, Etrius swung the belly turret around, lining up his first shot. But when he squeezed the trigger, all he heard was a mechanical whirring and a dull clunk. The targeting system flashed red warnings across the HUD: Jam Detected.

“Turret’s locked up! I have an idea,” Etrius shouted over the roar of the engines. Without waiting for a response, he unbuckled and moved toward the cargo bay, his cybernetic limbs absorbing the rough turbulence as the VTOL dodged and weaved, moaning and groaning as the ancient airframe struggled.

Zoey's eyes darted between the external camera feeds, tracking the alien fighters as they adjusted their formation, trying to box them in. “Be quick about it, stripes!” she shouted back, forcing the Donnerdrache into a sharp dive, barely dodging a barrage of plasma bolts that sizzled through the air above.

In the cargo bay, Etrius threw open the rear loading ramp, the sudden rush of wind slamming into him. He gritted his teeth against the noise and climbed into the KKP-42. Its dark, angular hull reflected the minimal lights inside the bay, a relic from the past with its sleek stealth profile. Etrius squeezed his massive frame through the rear hatch, barely fitting into the compact interior as he settled into the gunner's seat. The tankette's systems powered up with a low hum, the targeting reticle coming to life on the internal display.

“Always wanted to do something stupid like this before the war,” he muttered to himself as he swung the turret around, aiming at the pursuing alien craft. Through the targeting optics, he watched two of them lining up for a straight pass at the VTOL's now-exposed rear, unaware of what was about to happen. He squeezed the trigger of the Bofors L/70 cannon, sending the big 40mm rounds streaking into the dark. The shells detonated against the lead alien craft’s wing, tearing it apart in a shower of glowing debris. The second craft tried to evade, but Etrius’s next shot detonated in close proximity, blowing off the cockpit and sending it spiraling into the desert below.

Zoey managed a grim smile, adjusting the VTOL’s altitude and forcing the remaining fighters to break their attack run. She banked sharply to the left, rolling the Donnerdrache just as two of the aliens tried to follow, struggling to match her slow but erratic maneuvers. The angle of their turn was too tight and they collided midair, exploding in a burst of green and orange flames.

“Not bad, E! You’ve got a couple more friends on your six, though!” Zoey called over the comms, her voice tinged with adrenaline.

Etrius pulled himself free from the turret’s controls, looking out the open cargo door at the remaining fighters, which were now maneuvering for another pass. But he could see the strain in Zoey’s movements—her injuries catching up to her, and the VTOL struggling under the load of their cargo. He realized that they wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, especially if the alien squadron kept pressing. Something would break, and that would mean the end for both of them.

Etrius knew exactly what that meant. He glanced back at the KKP-42, the sleek form of the tankette glinting in the dim cargo bay lights. He knew how much it meant to Zoey—it wasn’t just a piece of hardware; it was history, a symbol of a time long past, and one of the few things she took pride in and actually loved. But right now, it was dead weight that could get them both killed.

Taking a deep breath, Etrius made his decision. He reached into a storage locker, pulling out a bundle of crew parachutes, quickly attaching them to the tankette's anchor points with deft movements. The wind whipped through the bay as he disconnected the restraints holding the KKP in place, the tankette sliding towards the edge of the open ramp.

As he released the last lock, he watched the KKP-42 tip over the edge and drop into the darkness, the parachutes blooming open behind it, guiding it slowly towards the desert below. For a moment, Etrius lingered, watching as the tankette drifted away, a shadow against the night sky. He knew Zoey would feel the loss deeply, but right now, survival was the priority.

With the cargo gone, the Donnerdrache instantly felt lighter, the engines responding with renewed power as the VTOL sped up. Zoey’s voice came through the comms, strained but steady. “Kitty, did you—?”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, not giving her time to dwell on it. “We can go back for it later.”

Zoey swallowed back the surge of emotion, focusing on the controls. She throttled up, the VTOL sprinting forward with new speed, the alien fighters struggling to keep pace. She pushed the turbines to their limits, the Donnerdrache soaring above the desert like a specter, the city lights now closer than before.

Etrius returned to his station, gripping the turret controls again even though they were still jammed. He scanned the sky, making sure no more threats were on their tail. For now, it seemed like they had the upper hand, the remaining alien craft pulling back, unwilling to push further into Sigma City's airspace and risk facing the SCDF’s response.

“We’re almost there, Zosh. Let’s finish this,” Etrius said, his voice carrying a weight that echoed the exhaustion in his bones. Zoey didn’t reply, but her grip on the controls tightened, her focus unyielding as they raced towards the safety of Sigma City.

Behind them, the desert night swallowed the drifting form of the KKP-42, its parachutes carrying it down gently amidst the chaos that raged above.