A chorus of gentle, discordant, yet still musical birdsong drifted across the plains as dawn rose on the planet that had been dubbed 'Avalon' by its' human visitors.
Though alien, the sounds of the creatures had already become familiar over the months the Expeditionary Force from far-off Earth had been resident. And, much as the sounds of their own birds back home, they quickly became part of the backdrop to a community coming awake. In this case, they were lost among the sounds of a base being woken up. Power tools, engines turning on, announcements over PA speakers and shouting voices calling out time for morning exercises rose into the air of the plains, alongside the sounds of the town growing next door.
Amongst the rising sounds of life, on one of the bases' many byways and streets hurried one of the Expeditionary Forces' many pilots. Normally calm, collected, laid-back and cool he was instead flustered, hassled and alarmed.
He was late.
Major Ryan Kincaide was due to deliver a briefing to his squadron, his first as their newly-appointed commander. He knew their names, exactly what he had to brief them on, and had all of his notes prepared... he was just late, for a variety of piss-poor reasons.
This left him hustling down the bases' streets, byways and alleys, cutting corners to try and get to the briefing rooms in time.
His phone - the cell network at the base was small, and only recently set up - rang and he grumbled as he juggled his tablet compter and notes to reach the phone.
"Wassup," he growled into the phone as he dodged past a formation of marching marines, and pressed the phone to one ear.
"You're late," chided the voice of his WSO. "I hope you're on your way, don't want to make a bad impression for your new adoring fanbase".
"I'm doing the best I can, I'm virtually there," he lied as he skittered across the road in front of a Hummvee and jogged across a parking lot. The operations building was on the other side, and he shouldered through the door.
"You're a terrible liar," Diane replied with a smirk that carried into her voice. "In any case, I'll see you in a few minutes. I think they're all here. Hope the mission is at least a good one to make up for it".
She hung up, cutting him off from any snarky comebacks as he turned a corner, bumped into a female pilot who scowled at him, and then took a half-dozen turns, finding himself at the briefing room. Diane raised an eyebrow at him, and he glowered at the red-headed aviator as she opened the door with a smirk.
Ryan took a breath, and stepped in, straightening his back and pushing the flustered look off his face to replace with a sterner, more officious one.
"Ladies, Gentlemen, Good morning," he announced in a firm, clear voice that had only a hint of his southern drawl to it as he walked quickly and smartly down the aisle, and took position at the lectern at the head of the room.
"I'm Major Kincaide, but you can call me 'Showman', or 'Major'. I will be your commanding officer in the 101st. I've looked over your files, and I can see I have an interesting group. I'm looking forward to working with all of you.
"And it looks like I'm not going to have to wait long to find out how we do, as the powers that be have decreed that we have a mission to fly.
So listen up, here's the mission". He tapped some icons on the screen of his tablet, resting on the lectern, and the wall-screen behind him lit up with a mirrored display, showing the operational area as a stylised map with labelled icons.
"Survey teams have been mapping the area approximately one hundred miles due south of our position. It's a fertile area; gently rolling plains, cut by some river valleys, and thickets of evergreen woodlands. There are remains of some Avalonian settlements, but no intact or permanent structures. The survey teams were attracted by strong magnetic readings from drone and recon overflights that could indicate resources in the area, or other things worth investigating. Whatever it was they were looking for, it seems like the Yerrill are interested as well, as the survey team reported being buzzed by a Yerrill fighter on the second day. The craft have returned since, in increasing numbers within the last few days. They hid after the first time, but the fighters have appeared to actively been looking for them. They clearly need support, and if there's a Yerrill base or installation this close to base, we also need to locate it. So, that's going to be our job".
A few more taps of icons, and the screen changed to show overlays of flight paths and itineries on the map of the operational area. A circle centered on a dot representing the survey teams' location, stretching out from there to a radius approximate to the Yerrills' known range.
"We set up a CAP over the area, and monitor for any Yerrill activity. The survey team will also have a small detachment of ground forces to help co-ordinate with us and protect them as well. If we sight any hostiles, we engage them and shoot 'em out of the sky. Our secondary role will be to patrol out to the estimated range of the Yerill fighters and look for any kind of base, installation, or other... thing... they're using to launch from to engage the survey team and get as much info on it as we can to send back to base. Sighted hostiles so far number up to four craft at one time; but as you all know: the Yerrill have no serial numbers or markings, so it's hard to know, visually at least, if it's just four returning craft, or several more."
He looked over the faces in front of him. "It's nothing too fancy, complicated, or head-scratching for a first mission. Find the bad guys, protect our guys, and maybe take some photos. Anything weird happens, we deal with it when it comes up. All of our planes are ready to fly, maintenance has given them a good going over; put some air in the tyres, changed the air fresheners, tightened up all the screws and they're ready as they can be. We're wheels-up at 0730, which is 90 minutes from now. Any questions?"
His keen eyes searched the faces in front of him, taking in each one and trying to anticipate any comments, opinons or ideas. He had read their files, but the people he didn't know, their quirks, humour, demeanour; those things didn't come across. What more would they have to say, about him or the mission, he was eager to know more. Eager to see how they performed in the air and on the mission; and after, what would they be like, especially if they did get into action. What then?
He shook off the circling thoughts and tuned back into his people, waiting for a reply.
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