NOVPUBNovember 15, 2025 — 4:40 PM
Japanese Self-Defense Forces Enclave – Barracks Corridor, Upper Level
The mountain wind outside whistled faintly through the ventilation shaft, a sound Thomas Estaris had grown familiar with over the past few hours. Cold, constant, and unchanging—like the silence after a battlefield, or a conversation where too much had been left unsaid.
He stood at a wide window overlooking the valley below. The trees down the slope swayed gently in the breeze, and beyond them, the sky was beginning to lose its light. The Stratotanker—Valkyrie One—sat parked far below on the ridge landing pad, engines off, silhouette dark against the fading sun.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Thomas didn't turn immediately. Only when he heard the voice.
"You run a tight operation, Estaris. I'll give you that."
It was Captain Hiroshi, the same man who'd led much of the conversation earlier that afternoon. The logistics officer was in his late forties, with a lined face, short black hair, and the demeanor of someone who had spent too many nights auditing numbers that meant life or death.
Thomas gave a small nod. "We do what we can."
Hiroshi stepped beside him, folding his arms, eyes narrowing slightly. "C-130s I can believe. Some old attack choppers? Maybe. But that Stratotanker... and long-endurance drones? That's not something you pull out of a hangar. Not in the state the world's in."
Thomas didn't respond right away.
"I've seen airbases," Hiroshi continued. "In the early days. We lost access fast. Civilian aviation vanished overnight. And yet here you are—flying a full-range tanker across the sea. So I have to ask…"
He turned his head slightly.
"Where did Overwatch get that hardware?"
Thomas exhaled slowly through his nose, never breaking his gaze from the window.
It wasn't the first time someone had asked. And it wouldn't be the last.
He kept his voice calm. Steady.
"Salvage. Retired assets. Some airbases weren't hit directly. They were simply abandoned. We had pilots, mechanics, engineers—some from Clark, some from Mactan. They knew where things were. They got them working again."
Hiroshi didn't answer. Just watched him carefully. 𝘯𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚
Thomas continued.
"We consolidated. Pulled everything into one site. Took months to recondition the Stratotanker. Same for the drones. We don't have endless inventory. We just keep our systems flying. Because we don't have the luxury of replacement."
A lie—wrapped in pieces of truth. Close enough to believe.
Hiroshi said nothing for a long time. Then:
"Convenient, isn't it? How your team managed to find everything just intact enough to use."
Thomas didn't flinch. "Convenient? No. We lost people recovering it. We buried more than a few trying to defend it. And we've sacrificed good men and women to keep it in the air."
Hiroshi nodded slowly. "Fair enough."
The conversation drifted into silence again, broken only by the wind. Then, softer:
"Are you a soldier, Estaris?"
Thomas glanced at him. "No."
"But you lead a military network."
"I lead survivors."
"Same thing these days."
Thomas gave a faint smile. "Maybe."
Hiroshi didn't press further. He seemed to accept the answer—or at least decide not to push the issue.
After a long pause, he spoke again.
"You said something earlier. That you weren't the Philippines anymore. That Overwatch isn't a nation."
Thomas nodded. "Because we're not."
"Then what are you?"
Thomas looked out the window one last time.
"Insurance," he said.
And that was that.
November 15, 2025 — 6:02 PM
Command Bunker, Central Meeting Room
The leadership council had reassembled. The mood this time was slightly less tense, but no less focused. The maps were still laid out. The portable radio still crackled faintly in the corner, picking up only static.
Thomas stood this time, both hands resting on the edge of the table.
"I appreciate the hospitality," he said, addressing the room. "And the honesty. This wasn't just about reconnaissance for us. This was about contact. Trust. And after what I've seen today, I'm confident we can move forward together."
Nishimura nodded. "You mentioned drone relays. Communication support."
"Yes," Thomas said. "Our drones. They can deploy low-band repeaters and persistent observation towers. We can install one on your ridgeline and uplink it to our relay system when we return."
Morita leaned forward. "How soon?"
"We'll need prep time," Thomas replied. "I want to ensure the equipment is hardened for the climate here. That means calibrating against your wind data, terrain layouts, signal obstructions. We've never operated in these mountains before."
Kobayashi asked, "And how long will that take?"
Thomas looked around the room.
"I'll return in a month."
There were murmurs. Takeda frowned slightly.
"A month?" Sato echoed. "Isn't that a bit long?"
"We're stretched thin," Thomas said. "We're pushing expansion in multiple directions. Rebuilding radar networks in Luzon. Clearing corridor zones near Pampanga. I can't commit resources I don't have. But I can promise that when I come back, we'll bring everything we need to establish stable, long-range contact."
Reyes added, "And after that, we can start sharing more than just data. Fuel, equipment, maybe even medical supply drops."
Nishimura looked to the rest of the council, then finally nodded.
"You'll have our cooperation."
Thomas inclined his head.
"Thank you."
Takeda stepped forward, arms crossed. "We'll hold position here. But if your promise holds, we'll be ready when you return."
"It will hold," Thomas said firmly.
He stepped back from the table.
"I came here for a signal. I leave with allies."
Hiroshi stood and walked over to him, offering a hand. "Then we'll keep the fires lit."
Thomas took the hand and shook it. "And we'll keep the sky open."
November 15, 2025 — 7:03 PM
Outside the Enclave – Landing Pad
The sun had fully set. The Stratotanker sat prepped and waiting, its beacon lights casting a glow over the makeshift tarmac. Snow drifted lightly across the ridgeline as Thomas and Reyes boarded, escorted by Takeda and two guards.
At the bottom of the ramp, Takeda stopped him.
"One month," he said. "We'll be here."
Thomas nodded. "And so will we."
With that, he turned and ascended the ramp, Reyes following behind.
The hatch sealed shut with a soft hiss.
Inside, the lights warmed, systems coming online.
Thomas sat in the pilot's seat, slipping the headset into place. Reyes moved to the co-pilot station, running diagnostics.
"You think they bought the story?" she asked, without looking up.
Thomas didn't answer right away.
He adjusted the throttle.
"They don't have to believe it. They just have to believe in us."
And with that, Valkyrie One lifted off into the night sky, fading into the black above the mountains—on its way back home.
