Gregory Pettigrew (etherial) wrote,
Gregory Pettigrew

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Conspiracy X

The Arizona desert unfolded beneath me, endless sand and cactus, flying past at a thousand miles an hour. The adjustments we had made to the Aurora's systems that I was testing were far surpassing expectations, as always. I stretched out my wings and prepared for the leap to Mach 3. That's when the two Black Book TD-121s pulled up behind me. Great. Just Great. I wasn't even carrying any conventional weapons. This was a test flight.

"Icarus to Daedalus. Two angels at five and seven. Have a Welcoming Committee Ready. I’m coming home for dinner." I must have wandered too close to the Black Book's Dulce base. Or maybe they noticed I was performing above peak and were investigating. Or maybe they were just out joy riding, testing some new systems like I was. No reply from Base. Maybe I was too far. Maybe they were jamming me. No matter. Now is when I was scheduled to return, anyway. I’m just doing it with company.

I threw my head back and the plane flipped, losing no momentum, no altitude. My muscles tensed as the Aurora leapt straight to Mach 4. No sooner was I beginning to relax, adjusted to the pull of the leather seat, than my two new friends pulled up behind me.

One blew his nose at me and I deftly dodged the snot. These boys wanted to play. No problem. I flipped around just long enough to throw everything I had at the guy on my left. No noticeable deceleration. No noticeable explosion. He had simply dodged. These boys meant business. And I was outnumbered. Life was never fair.

A flurry of bullets and a pair of missiles sailed past. I stopped. The TD-121s zoomed right past me along with their missiles and I targeted the engines of the guy on the left. My punch was about to hit when I noticed his buddy trying to sweep me off my feet. I missed. But I turned the tables on him. He flew up in front and to the right and I turned away just in time to not be affected by the blast I sent his way. I sent him straight home to mother Earth and he never bothered me again.

Again there was firing behind me. I didn't have much left. It was hard running this fast this long, but I was nearly on top of the Ranch by now. No one in sight. They were hiding inside. Or maybe they were holding back, waiting to see what I would do next.

Through sheer force of will, I turned around again, unable to run away. I threw my final blow at him and he dodged, up and to my right. Exactly where I wanted him. I threw all my strength into a body check. My will was sapped. My mind was toast. But the scraping of metal and the sound of the explosion were enough. I knew that he was gone. But my problems were far from over.

While I had defeated the second TD-121, the pull on my back started to fade. The controls for the Aurora were not intended to have a smashed jet for a right wing. My own momentum was pulling me down, my knees buckling, my legs twisting into a heap. I was falling.

I was facing straight down, pressed against the side of the plane, spinning faster and faster until all the World outside were concentric circles of black and green and tan and all inside was static and motionless.

For one instant, I was hypnotized. It was over. I had won but I had lost. Then I was on the ground. The landing gear was down, the plane motionless. I was motionless.

I could not move, I could not blink. I could not even breathe. I could only feel and see and hear. Black spots appeared and I could not blink them away. Men came to the plane and when I wasn't responding, they tried forcing the cockpit open. They had to burn their way through.

I was lifted out and placed on a stretcher, air forced into my lungs. My chest heaved, my eyes opened wide, my muscles ached...and all went black.


Groom Dry Lake Research Facility Psychiatric Appraisal
of Test Pilot Col. Kyle Greenwood


After the Incident of 15 July 1997, subject shows no signs of Psychic Ability and has no traces of Atlantean Nanotech system. Signs indicate that both may have been exhausted in successful defense against superior forces and subsequent Equipment failure. Subject has already begun to repair vehicle but suffers from extreme Phobia in even a nonfunctional cockpit. Any attempt to counsel subject is likely to backfire given previous data.

End Report.

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