UCT Ch 9

There was only one way.

She had to fight.

Having reached this conclusion, there was no time for second thoughts. Diana opened the throttle to max out the engine, then soared upward, performing a loop in mid-air. It was a maneuver she used to enjoy, an aerial loop. Her Armada-13 drew a perfect curve, disappearing from the enemy’s sight.

Before she knew it, the positions of the two planes had reversed.

Diana was behind, and the Arke fighter was in front. This meant Diana now had the advantageous high ground.

‘…’

In her state of extreme concentration, one of Diana’s hands was on the control stick, the other on a red button.

She fired bullets slightly to the left in sync with the enemy’s sharp left turn. Not knowing the speed of the fighter or the tracer rounds, she took a gamble. Fortunately, the bullets hit the enemy’s wing directly, causing the aircraft to lose control and spin 360 degrees. Diana increased altitude to escape the chaos.

Only after spotting the Arke pilot parachuting out of the fighter could she exhale the breath she had been holding. Even without looking in the mirror, she could easily imagine how she looked.

Her hair inside the leather pilot’s helmet must be drenched and clinging due to sweat, and her cheeks would be redder than her hair color.

But now was not the time to worry about her appearance. The fuel gauge needle was teetering on empty. She thought it would just be a delivery job, so she didn’t load much fuel, not expecting any combat situation. She would have to make an emergency landing.

‘There’s a wheat field a bit further; I’ll have to land there.’

Only then did the excitement of the battle, the relief of survival, begin to flood her mind. Her stomach churned as if she might vomit, but since she hadn’t eaten, only sour stomach acid kept rising in her esophagus. It was a strangely familiar yet utterly alien physiological reaction.

🌷🌷🌷

After an emergency landing in a nearby wheat field, with the help of a farmer driving a truck, Diana managed to reach her destination, the air base.

She had to quickly report the circumstances of the battle and recover the aircraft, so time was of the essence. As they approached the base, something seemed off. There was a crowd of people near the guard post, buzzing with excitement.

The farmer, squinting, asked Diana,

“Miss soldier, is that where the squadron is?”

“…Yes.”

“But who are all those people?”

“…Looks like journalists.”

“Journalists? Were you that important?”

“…No.”

“Ah! Then they must be here to snap photos of Lieutenant Ashwood!”

“Ah. That must be it.”

They were clearly here to capture the ace of the Pegasus Squadron on film. The farmer dropped Diana off near the entrance to the squadron.

Just as Diana, with her disheveled uniform and wild hair, was about to enter the base, she was bombarded with flashes like fireworks and a barrage of questions from the journalists.

“Where did you learn your combat skills? I heard you were only in charge of transport duties!”

“What are your thoughts on receiving a medal from the King?”

“Could you say something to the people of Camden?”

The flashing lights made her dizzy. In her past life, she might have enjoyed this attention, but now it only felt awkward and confusing.

“Excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be right now. Could you please step aside?”

“Miss Green! Have you considered becoming a fighter pilot? You could be a great asset to the Bringerton Air Force!”

“How do you rate the performance of the Armada-13 compared to the enemy aircraft?”

“Do you plan to meet Lieutenant Ashwood?”

When she felt she could bear it no longer, a woman suddenly appeared, parting the crowd of journalists. An elderly woman in a military uniform shouted at the journalists with a stern voice.

“Everyone, get out of here! What are you doing in front of a military base!”

Soldiers then began confiscating film from the journalists’ cameras, which was a necessary security measure, though the journalists protested loudly. The Duchess, unable to watch any longer, spoke again,

“If you want to do interviews, submit a proper request!”

Diana looked at the woman in front of her. The sharp chin and piercing eyes were unmistakable.

‘Duchess Coronius?’

The founder and head of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, she was practically Diana’s superior. Diana belatedly saluted, but the Duchess clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“I’m not a soldier, so you don’t need to do that. Sergeant Green, follow me.”

Diana followed her, almost in a trance.

Diana had visited the northern Jackfield Base, where the squadron operated, several times for deliveries. Since her last visit, it seemed the facilities had improved significantly. The once shabby runway was now neatly paved with concrete, and the hangars seemed to have doubled in size.

‘Is it thanks to Lieutenant Ashwood that they receive so much support? Having a famous person in the squadron definitely helps…’

Diana continued to follow the Duchess. The place she led Diana to was the office of the Colonel, the commander of the 11th Fighter Squadron. It wasn’t a tent but a sturdy cottage-like structure. Mechanics and pilots were bustling around.

As Diana entered hesitantly, she was immediately overwhelmed by the smoke from cigarettes.

There were four people seated inside. The one smoking at the desk must be the Colonel, and the man seated to his left would be his adjutant. The other two were unknown to Diana; one was looking straight ahead with arms crossed, the other was hidden by the man next to him. Due to the lax dress code in the air force, everyone was dressed casually, with only the Colonel and his adjutant wearing officer hats.

“I’ve brought Sergeant Green, as ordered.”

“Thank you, Madam.”

The Colonel tipped his hat to show respect to the Duchess. Judging by the insignia on his scarf, he was also a noble. His gaze then shifted from the Duchess to Diana.

“Sergeant Diana.”

When Diana saluted, the man sighed and nodded. He then spoke in a harsh tone.

“You did something quite unnecessary.”

The relaxed atmosphere inside the tent turned icy in an instant. Diana was equally taken aback. She bit the tender flesh inside her cheek lightly.

‘…I didn’t expect to be praised, but…’

Even though the Auxiliary Air Force was non-combatant, she was still officially a soldier. The enemy attacked first, and she successfully countered it, yet receiving this level of rebuke felt somewhat unfair.

‘But there’s nothing I can do about it.’

After all, she had lost a valuable fighter, so the criticism regarding that was inevitable. She had failed in her mission of ‘safe transport.’

With that, Diana prepared herself mentally. The Colonel continued in a cold voice.

“I did some background checking on you before you arrived.”

“……”

Diana’s gaze wavered slightly. Background check? Had she done something wrong? No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what it might be. There was no way someone she had never met before would know about her past life. The Colonel went on, looking at the documents handed to him by his adjutant.

“You lost your parents at the age of five and grew up in your uncle’s house who ran a tavern in Camden, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You worked at the tavern and then learned to fly for a few weeks at an aviation school. That’s all your experience. A mere eight weeks! It’s quite ridiculous.”

The tent fell silent. In this indescribably subtle atmosphere, Diana bit the tender flesh inside her cheek harder.

“It’s clear that for someone like you, an amateur, to shoot down an enemy fighter, let alone a Carpe-108, it must have been sheer luck.”

“…Yes, it was luck.”

She agreed to some extent with the Colonel’s statement. She herself hadn’t expected to encounter an enemy in such circumstances.

“But the problem is, people don’t see it that way. Once this incident leaks to the press, it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows. People will start criticizing our squadron. If even a tavern server can shoot down planes so well, why is the Bringerton Air Force in such a state?”

“As I said before, it was luck. And because the new fighter is excellent-.”

“Do you think that excuse will work, Sergeant?”

Diana’s mouth clamped shut like a clam. She couldn’t grasp what the Colonel was trying to tell her. Was this some sort of venting? Or a warning not to say foolish things to the press?

Either way, it was unpleasant for Diana. Even if it was luck, a shootdown was a shootdown. Many lives might have been saved because of what she did.

The Colonel paused for a moment before speaking again.

“There’s only one way to solve this problem.”

“…?”

“Join our squadron, Sergeant.”