objected. They agreed with the proposal for automating the planes but disputed the assertion that the key to the Boomerang Squadron’s performance was the human pilots.

To support their position they referred to the results of a single flight test conducted by the TAF’s combat tactics development task force. That flight test had also been the major’s idea, with the aim of gauging the effectiveness of transferring Yukikaze’s AI system into a different plane, one that wasn’t a Super Sylph. The results were not satisfactory.

Booker believed that the test failed because the other plane’s central computer was insufficiently powerful and its flight capabilities were inferior to a Sylphid’s. Its reaction speed, response characteristics, and the strength and reliability of its control surfaces were too different. The test confirmed what Booker had suspected, which was that the learning function of Yukikaze’s AI was closely linked to the plane’s physical structure; in order to transfer it to another plane, they would need a brand-new, high-capacity computer that was completely “clean,” with no tactical software loaded into it, as well as a plane with an architecture that was completely compatible with Yukikaze’s flight, navigation, and fire control systems. In other words, they would need a copy of Yukikaze.

The major doubted they could create many of these copy planes, and more importantly, he doubted whether they should. One of Boomerang Squadron’s strengths lay in the distinct individualism of its pilots. If the entire Tactical Air Force flew the same planes as Boomerang Squadron and used the same tactics, it would form a pattern that the JAM would soon detect.

The Technology Development Center computers objected to this point as well, insisting that they could create and implement such a wide array of combat tactics that the JAM would not be able to discern any common elements. Major Booker did not yield to them. The plane that the TDC was currently working on was an upgraded variant of the Sylphid that was completely automated; he insisted that the design be modified to allow a human to pilot it. Both the TDC computers and its human staff regarded the major’s demand as completely unreasonable. Putting in life-support systems would make the plane heavier and cut down on space for the electronics, and adding a G-limiter would reduce its maneuverability. Booker tried to persuade them by conceding that the plane did not need to be flown manned all the time. Once it had been adequately trained by an SAF pilot it then could be completely automated.

In the end, the Tactical Air Force decided to implement Major Booker’s proposal on a provisional basis, with the new fighter prototype being produced in both manned and unmanned variants. Only thirteen planes — the same number as in Boomerang Squadron — were planned for combat deployment.

Booker worked to establish the foundation of a repurposed SAF, one in which the pilots’ primary role would be to train the new Sylphid. The unmanned prototype still had no name and was instead referred to by its development number, FRX00, which indicated that is was the 100th new fighter plane developed by the FAF, counting both major types and variants.

New technology was making the existing SAF planes more reliable during unmanned flight, and gradually more and more pilots got used to the sight of seeing their planes sortie without them. The Tactical Air Force had already recognized that the amount of data that needed to be collected was exceeding the capacity of the existent SAF. And so it was decided that the current mission of the SAF would be brought to an end and that it would be given a new mission, one based around the automated flight of its aircraft. After a trial period, when it was determined that full automation did not hinder the execution of its reconnaissance duty, the SAF became the first completely unmanned squadron in the Faery Air Force.

The last manned flight would be Yukikaze’s. The mission was an ultra low-level penetration to deploy intelligence-gathering sensor pods in D-zone.

“THIS WILL BE Yukikaze’s last flight.”

When Major Booker announced this to Rei and Burgadish in the SAF briefing room, the two Boomerang soldiers betrayed no discernable reaction, their expressions as blank as always.

Their mission operation was simple. They were to take off carrying tactical automated information sensor pods, cross over the forests of Faery, and deploy the pods in the white sand desert that stretched like a sea of sugar across D-zone. However, there was an element of risk involved: the FAF did not have mastery of the airspace in D-zone. Yukikaze would have to drop the TAISPs quickly and try to get out of there before the JAM detected their incursion.

The pods would then burrow into the desert and deploy passive sensor arrays to track JAM movements. The system could detect a wide range of frequencies, distinguish useful infrared data from ambient heat, recognize shapes in the visible light spectrum, and even record sound via changes in air pressure. When the JAM were not present, the pods would deploy butterfly-like wings above the sands to gather energy using a solar generation system. After that, they would wait quietly for the enemy. If one was discovered it would either burrow back into the sand to try and avoid destruction or, if there wasn’t enough time, would broadcast a high-power warning beacon before the JAM destroyed it. They were impressive pieces of technology, but the FAF considered them expendable.

“Question,” said Rei. “Why are you having Yukikaze do this? And why manned? There’s no actual need for me to be flying this mission, is there?”

His tone of voice was unusually cold, even for him, and from that Booker knew a roil of conflicting thoughts must lay behind his friend’s impassive facade. This was the end. Rei would not fly with Yukikaze again.

“D-zone is essentially unknown airspace,” answered the major. “Something might happen that Yukikaze can’t anticipate. In that case, she’ll need your piloting instincts.”

He tried to sound as calm and positive as possible, but Rei’s expression did not change. “Any other questions? If not, then you’re dismissed. Your preflight briefing is tomorrow morning at 0830. That is all.”

Major Booker watched them exit the room. He knew with a sinking certainty where Rei was headed and followed.

Yukikaze was in the maintenance bay. Rei silently looked up at his beloved plane.

“Rei, come back alive. That’s an order.”

Rei didn’t react to the major’s affectionate catchphrase. He was standing directly under the kanji characters that spelled out Yukikaze’s name, just staring at them.

“She’s a good machine, but she doesn’t need you anymore.”

Booker noticed Rei’s right hand twitch slightly.

“Will all the machines not need people anymore?”

“That’s how the CDC computers would have it. The thing is, human intuition is a threat that the JAM can’t anticipate, and the Earth-side machines just don’t understand that. We can apply Yukikaze’s artificial intelligence and learning functions, but there isn’t a plane aside from the Sylph that is capable of mounting a central computer powerful enough to handle them. And the problem there is that while the Sylph’s size allows it to house all this high-tech equipment, it also limits its aerodynamic qualities.”

“Yukikaze has survived because all I do is run away. We don’t engage. I don’t know if she could handle a full-on dogfight.”

“She could now. And she can win. Don’t underestimate her. She’s a more amazing machine than you give her credit for.”

Rei said nothing and continued to gaze up at his plane.

Booker patted him on the shoulder and told him to come along. When Rei didn’t move, he said “Oh, so you don’t want to fly anymore?”

“What?”

“Let me introduce you to the FRX00. If you don’t want to fly it, I’ll understand. There are other pilots who will, and you can go home. To Earth.”

“I won’t fly anything but Yukikaze — ”

“Pretty soon, this plane won’t be Yukikaze anymore. She’s not your pet and she’s not your lover. She’s an FAF fighter. Don’t ever forget that. You’re just one pilot. If you don’t like it, then quit. Any of the others would be overjoyed to go back to Earth.”

Major Booker walked toward the elevator. Rei took a deep breath, looked at Yukikaze one last time, and then followed.

The SAF hangar dedicated to Boomerang Squadron was located on the third level. They descended far below this, to a level with very tight security. In addition to his ID card, which normally was enough to open a hangar door lock, the major also had to insert a separate entry authorization card.

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