Cuts to when Asher is younger: 6
He and his older brother are playing with the toys on the floor. They are playing with the small figurines of aliens and mecha fighters. His brother played the monster because Asher always liked to play as the good guy. Asher is explaining all the cool features of his figurine, acting as if they are real.
Asher: “I’ll use my turbo thrusters to fly high into the air!”
Asher’s brother laughs, “Well then I’ll just have to use my wings and catch you!” They run around the house with toys in hand.
On the screen, their father watches the news. A military commercial plays on the screen. It shows Skywings pilots training in their fighter jets, among bright blue skies. The Skywings rigs are shown on screen as a narrator points out all the advanced features of the machine. A patriotic jingle plays in the background and a pilot salutes with a smile before the cockpit closes. Finally, it shows footage of a pilot leaning against his Skywings rig with some aviator sunglasses on, slowly fading to a drawn recreation of the scene. “Join and fight back. Operation Skywings.” Asher and his brother look at the screen in awe.
Asher “I’m gonna be in one of those one day.” His brother chuckles.
A few years later. Asher is 9.
He is reading piloting manuals for a Skywings rig. A book full of pictures of the different types of fighter jets. His brother walks into his room, “Look!” Asher holds the book up to his brother. His brother smiles, walking over and sitting next to him. Asher continues, “It’s an Aphelion m89.”
Aaron: “Heh you really like these things huh?”
Asher: “Obviously! But this one’s the coolest one! I mean just look at those afterburn engines, and that weapon’s system!”
Aaron finds his brother’s enthusiasm amusing.
Asher: “Just imagine what it would feel like piloting one of these baby’s!” Asher pretends to push buttons, flip switches, and pull levers mimicking the startup procedure of a Skywings pilot. “I’m training so that I can be the best pilot there ever was.” He furrows his eyes in intense focus “This is Sparrow, ready for takeoff on the ready. Over”
Aaron: “Roger that sparrow, you are green for takeoff. I repeat you are green for takeoff.”
Cuts to Asher’s brother in the cockpit, his face obscured by the face mask and helmet. The sound is muffled.
A voice comes in over the coms “Sparrow, tango on your six.”
Now outside we see the jet he is piloting, behind him a large alien-like insect trails behind him with rapidly beating wings that create a low hum. His wing dips down as his speed slows, and he drops below the clouds. Seconds later he emerges behind the alien and opens fire. The bullets tear through the carapace and the alien spirals back toward the earth.
The voice comes through again: “Nice shooting ace.”
Asher slightly older: 12
He hears the sobbing of his mother, unsure of what to do. He is afraid, so he only creeps over to the stairs. He is just close enough to hear what is happening. His mother is sobbing uncontrollably.
“No, no, you can’t go.” her voice barely makes it out of her chest.
Asher hears his father’s voice “I already tried to tell them I’d take his place, but they won’t budge, the cutoff is 26 years…”
Asher hears the voice of his brother “It’s ok Mom. It’s a good thing…” he tries to come up with the right words to say. “I’ll be fine, and… and besides I’ll be keeping others safe.”
The sobbing continues.
Dad: “Why don’t you go get some rest, mom just needs some time.”
Asher sits still as the footsteps of his brother get closer, his shadow becoming larger along the wall. Asher quickly scrambles back into his room and into his bed. Aron’s eyes are fixed on the ground as he walks up the stairs. He stops in front of Asher’s door, and slowly creeks it open. The yellow hallway light shines into Asher’s room and onto his bed where he lay. He stands in the doorway, as they make eye contact. There is a moment of silence as they gaze at each other. Asher’s brother forces a smile on his face.
Aaron: “You’re still up?”
Asher: “Where are you going?”
There’s a pause as Aaron thinks about what to say: “Well I- I got recruited to the skywings program.”
Asher: “What?! no fair!”
His brother chuckles, but his eyes remain somber.
Asher: “Can I come with you!”
Aaron’s chest feels heavy, he lets out a labored sigh: “No, I don’t think so… I’m going solo on this one.”
Asher looks at him disappointed. Aaron walks over and sits on the bed.
Aaron “Listen, Ash, you’ve gotta make sure to stay out of trouble while I’m gone, got it?”
Asher nods: “how long are you going to be gone?”
Aaron: “I don’t know, for a while, at least until all this swarm stuff gets sorted out.”
Asher is silent for a moment: “Then I might see you there when I join.”
Aaron’s expression changes, and the words that come out of his mouth pain him.
Aaron closes his eyes, and composes himself: “You have to stay here with mom and dad.”
Asher looks confused: “Why… Why can’t I go? I’d be a great pilot!”
Aaron: “I know, of course you would, but you just can’t…” he sighs.
Asher looks disappointed. Aaron tries to comfort Asher, but Asher turns away and back into his sheets. Aaron leaves the room and closes the door. The room fades to black.
Asher sits in a cockpit, a cold sweat over him, outside the sky is gray and storming. Over the coms, he hears a commotion, his breathing quick and his eyes wide.
Voice: “Disperse now! Engage evasive-” the com cuts out.
Beside him a jet bursts into flames. A winged alien emerges from under the clouds, crashing into it and sheering the metal frame to tatters. The jet losing control, and the wreckage begins to barrel toward Asher, but it’s coming too fast. The smoldering debris reflected on the cockpit canopy, in moments the debris crashes into his jet, causing it to fail. Asher is rattled inside, and his jet begins to fall toward the earth. He panics as he tries to stabilize, but the damage is done. Below the clouds the earth comes into view. The eject button on his seat isn’t working.
Asher’s wakes up, his alarm clock ringing beside him, the clock beside him reads 6 am.
A voice outside Asher’s door: “Asher get your ass up, it’s already 6!” Asher rubs his eyes, still sleep-deprived from staying up late at the arena. He gets up sluggishly throwing on his oil-stained work overalls; along with his jacket, gloves, and hard hat. He exits his room, as his father passes by.
His dad looks at him, “Jesus Asher you look like shit.” Asher ignores him, beginning to brush his teeth in the small bathroom opposite his room in the narrow hallway.
Everyone else is downstairs as breakfast is prepared. Some eggs over rice, with some mini pan-fried hot dogs and a side of kimchi. He walks down, buckling the straps of his overalls. His mother and sister sit at the table, eating, while his father is getting ready to head out.
Dad: “Come on Ash, how many times do I have to tell you to stop wasting your time with the arena crap.”
Mom: “You went to the arena again?! You need to get your priorities straight, mister.”
Asher tries his best to ignore them while putting on his boots.
Dad: “No matter how many times I tell him, he never listens.”
He and his father are ready to leave the house.
Mom: “Asher, you don’t have to eat before you go?”
Dad: “We don’t have time. That’s what he gets for waking up late.”
Asher: “It’s fine mom, I’ll eat when I get home.”
Mom: “That’s too long, here just take it with you.”
Asher: “Really I’m fine Mom.” Asher is annoyed at the situation.
Mom: “Have a good day at work,” she says to both of them
Dad: “We’ll try.” He and his father head out the door.
The scrapyard: heaps of wrecked trash, scrap metal, and industrial machinery are scattered across the dusty ground; the sun beaming down on all the workers. Many of them are older than Asher. Some looked withered and old, some fat, burly, and middle-aged, but Asher being the youngest stood out amongst the worn-down workers.
Worker: “You’re late John,” he says jokingly.
Dad: “I know, this one slept in again.”
They both laugh. Asher pretends to smile, fighting back the dreariness of having to work, in the heat. Asher piles scrap metal into a large cloth to help carry it to the area where the metal is placed onto conveyor belts and compacted. The factory smells of fumes and gasoline, with large smelters that billow black smoke into the sky. He pulls each corner of the cloth to the top, twisting it and getting a firm grip, before slinging the heavy load over his shoulder. He did this over and over, with sweat dripping from
his face. His father says something; Asher gives an uninterested nod.
Asher continues to work, looking through the scrap, sometimes pocketing a few pieces that may be helpful to him later, or marking them for pickup later. He finds a large heavy piece of cast iron, shouldering it, and trudging to the same location. Finally, the work day ends, and Asher leaves the scrap yard. His father heads home, while Asher makes his way to the street markets.