Chapter Fifty-Six: Forward Thinking
|...|...|...|
Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
October 25th, 2019.
0500hrs.
|...|...|...|
Naomi woke up on the floor, her back and neck not nearly as sore as she had expected after spending the night on the stiff, hard industrial carpet instead of in her cot. At some point in the night, she had pulled her sleeping bag and pillow down to the floor for her and Count to use, not that it made for the best sleeping arrangement. But they'd both made do with it. She could vaguely recall having told Count he could leave if he wanted later into the night, when she'd woken up to turn out the light, but considering the fact he was still laying on the floor beside her she guessed he wanted her company as much as she wanted his.
As uncomfortable as the floor was, Naomi became more aware of her surroundings as she started to wake up more. And that meant she was aware of one of Count's arms just slung across her waist, as though he hadn't wanted to cross any more lines by wrapping it around her to pull her closer to him. She then wondered if he had even done it consciously or not. With her back pressed to his chest and stomach, Naomi found that she didn't want to get up. Just five more minutes of sleep would have been enough, so long as she didn't have to worry about anything just yet. Like how there was still a war going on.
Although she knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, Naomi still wanted to rest for just a bit longer. Count was still breathing steadily beside her, still quiet. If he was awake he made no indication of it. Unfortunately for her, as soon as she closed her eyes and settled into his embrace again there was an abrupt knock at the door. She flinched at the sound, instinctively bracing herself for some kind of siren or explosion outside to tell her there was an emergency, but it was still quiet. The knocking as well as Naomi's reaction caused Count to startle awake, likely expecting the same thing she was, and he quickly pulled his arm away from her.
The knock came again and Count sat up with a sigh, throwing the sleeping bag off of him. His voice still sounded a bit scratchy and deeper from sleep as he spoke, lightly nudging her shoulder as he did. "Trig? Are you awake yet?"
"Yeah. I am." Naomi let out a sigh of her own, grunting as she sat up and then got to her feet. Count followed, throwing her pillow back onto the cot and then working to roll her sleeping bag up as she headed for where her boots were sitting at the foot of the cot. They were the only thing she needed to be ready for the day, both her and Count having slept in their flight suits. As she sat on the edge of her cot to pull them on, she managed to raise her voice enough that the person on the other side of the door could hear her. "Come in."
The door opened all the way as Tabloid stepped in, revealing a surprisingly busy hallway given how dead everything sounded outside. Whatever he had intended to say he clearly forgot as he noticed Count standing in the middle of Naomi's room, narrowing his eyes as he gave both of them a surprised look. He was quick to wipe it off his face, trying not to seem suspicious or awkward. "Oh. Good morning," he said, crossing his arms and glancing at Count. "Is this where you disappeared to all night?"
"Uh, yeah. And I was a perfect gentleman, so just keep your head out of the gutter, alright?" Count said, snatching up his own boots and slipping them on. The tone of voice and the look he gave Tabloid was almost one of warning, like he wasn't in the mood to be lectured or teased in any way. He looked almost embarrassed, though, and Naomi had to admit she felt a bit embarrassed too even though neither of them had any reason to.
"Right. Trigger?" Tabloid looked at Naomi now, gesturing to Count once he had her attention. There almost seemed to be some mischief in his voice as he asked, "Is he telling the truth for once?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Naomi asked, genuinely having no idea why Count would have any reason to lie. Or why Tabloid would think they weren't telling him something. She did have to admit asking Count to stay had been a bad idea, even if nothing happened, solely because she didn't want to be put on the spot or have any kind of rumors about some scandal between the two of them. Not that Tabloid would ever do that, but had any regular soldier been the one in his shoes something like that might happen. She shrugged it off. "We fell asleep while talking and he ended up crashing on the floor, that's all."
"Alright, relax. I just wanted to give Count a bit of a hard time, that's all," Tabloid said, throwing his hands up and giving a light chuckle.
"You came all the way here just to be an ass?" Count asked him, straightening up and scoffing.
Tabloid shook his head. "As much fun as that would be, no, I didn't."
"What is it, then? I mean, it's pretty much first thing in the morning," Naomi said, glancing up at the clock. She slept an hour past when she normally was awake but given how exhausted she'd been it made sense. She wouldn't have blamed anyone for trying to get some extra sleep, especially not any of the LRSSG's pilots, but she couldn't help but kick herself for oversleeping. She shoved the thought down, turning her attention back to Tabloid. "Can't be too urgent given how quiet things are, right?"
"No, it's not exactly urgent, per se," Tabloid replied. He scratched the back of his head as he continued. "I was up kind of early and bumped into Long Caster, so I just decided to save him the trip. Colonel Beckett wants to see us all when we get a minute. It doesn't have to be right away, he just wants to go over some things."
"Well, it ain't like we've got anything better to do," Count said, stretching and stifling a yawn after he did. "Did Long Caster say what it was about?"
"I imagine the debriefing is one of them. Then there's something else that came up, but he didn't go into a whole lot of detail," Tabloid replied, looking between the two of them. He shrugged. "Whatever it is, we'll probably know once we get there. But no rush, y'know?"
"Might as well go ahead and go. I need something to do before I go crazy," Naomi said, ignoring the slight pain in her stomach from the fact she hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours as she got to her feet. She could eat afterwards. But even if she was just sitting there in the briefing room it wouldn't be the same as sitting in her room. One of them at least required her to get on her feet and go somewhere, which gave her some sort of accomplished feeling if nothing else.
"You're still waking up and you're gonna march straight down there?" Count asked, raising a brow as she headed for the open door to her quarters.
"I'll wake up on the way," Naomi replied, stepping out into the hall. She turned around to face the two of them when she realized they weren't following her. "Are you two coming or are you gonna go eat first?"
They exchanged a look, either one of exasperation or something else that Naomi couldn't figure out, before they moved to follow her out into the hall. Tabloid was the one that answered her as he said, "Guess we're following you. I'm not really all that hungry right now."
Naomi glanced at Count. "What about you?"
Count gestured down the hall and replied, "Lead the way, Trigger. I'm not really interested in breakfast."
The three of them set off down the hall that would lead them to the door and out of the barracks, none of them making much conversation as they went along.
Although they weren't the only ones awake, things were still very quiet, and considering how early in the morning it was most of the people awake were other soldiers. There weren't many of them. With how few their numbers were it wasn't hard for Naomi to put names to people's faces at this point, and not just Major Grimm's men and the refugees but the Erusean defectors as well. It wasn't a one way street either, with everyone else well aware of Naomi and the other pilots and willing to greet them and be friendly. It made coexisting at least a little easier when you didn't just know people in passing, not that they were as close to them as they were to the people they were fighting right alongside with.
Outside, things were just as still as everyone started to get the day started. The humidity and a cool breeze warned of another coming storm, which was common on the island as far as Naomi could tell considering how often it had been raining since they got there. Heck, it had been raining the day they took the place back. It made her miss Osea even more. They didn't usually have harsh winters or anything but the weather was pleasant for the most part. Before she'd been stationed near Oured she had been used to living further north where they actually got four seasons, so moderate weather wasn't what she expected this late in the fall. She was getting used to it, though, little by little the more she was stuck out here.
They reached the main HQ before long, and in just a few more minutes they reached the briefing room and stepped inside. Just about everyone was there already, a few of them looking like they had only arrived shortly before Naomi, Count, and Tabloid had. Even Avril and the Princess were there, the Princess and her bodyguard, Henri, looking like they were in need of a few more hours of sleep. All of Cyclops, Mage, Golem, and the rest of Strider were sitting around and talking over several cups of coffee while Major Grimm and Bandog sat and chatted with Genette. At the front of the room, Long Caster and Naomi's father were speaking with Beckett.
The screen they used was online, displaying what it was able to of the map with flashing red text lined up on the edge and displaying the usual 'OFFLINE' status alongside various other notices and errors about the lack of satellite connection. As if they needed to be reminded, but in the computer's defense it had no idea what was going on and it still let them manually update what they were able. She wondered what it was even on for if it was just a debriefing, and why everyone else was already there if what Beckett wanted to talk about wasn't urgent. It seemed more urgent than he was letting on from the looks of things.
Naomi went straight to the front of the room, glancing at the others as they took notice of her and Count and Tabloid's arrival but not stopping to say anything. Tabloid and Count followed her a bit of the way before they stopped to join the conversation with their wingmates. They probably weren't nearly as impatient as she was about finding out what was going on, but her problem was that she didn't like to be the last one finding out something if it was important and from the looks of things it was very important.
Her father and Beckett were the first ones to notice her, her father starting to say something but Naomi cut him off without meaning to. She blurted out her question and then cursed herself when she realized she'd cut him off. "Hey, what's going on? Why is everyone here? Tabloid said it wasn't urgent."
"Good morning to you, too," her father said with a huff of exasperation, giving her a small, slightly forced smile. He glanced over to where Count stood then back at her. "Did you finally get some sleep?"
"Yeah. I ended up sleeping in on accident, though, so that's great," Naomi said, almost sarcastically. She didn't want to sound antsy, but she was sure she probably did, biting the inside of her cheek before she added, "Now I'm worried I missed something."
"You didn't miss anything. Not really, anyways. Everyone else was just getting up and came on down for their debrief," Beckett explained, giving her an almost apologetic look, instantly trying to set her at ease. Not that it helped the fact she felt like a bad leader for being late, regardless of what he said. He went on. "As for the new development, well we were gonna wait on you for that anyways. You all needed your sleep. You especially."
"Actually if anyone should not be sleeping it's me," Naomi said, crossing her arms.
"Knock it off," her father scolded her, flicking his fingers against the side of her head. She winced and he gave her a pointed look. "You were exhausted and you know it. You didn't do anything wrong and you didn't let anyone down, so just relax would you?"
"Fine. Just someone fill me in, please?" Naomi looked around at the three of them, and they looked around at each other and back at her as if they didn't know where to start. She almost let out a sigh, but she shoved it down along with any bad feeling she had. If they said nothing was wrong then nothing was wrong. "Did you come up with anything on the aircraft that Mr. X was flying?"
"We did, yes," Long Caster answered, reaching for a couple of pages that had been printed out and sliding them over the table they were set on so that Naomi could see them. It looked like an aircraft blueprint, and he quickly explained, "Genette had a few old files on advanced fighters that he had downloaded a while back, and Colonel Beckett and your father offered some up as well. We narrowed the search down until we came to this one, and save for some key differences in the technology that we can't really verify it looks like the same aircraft."
Naomi looked it over, noting the text at the top of the page. She furrowed her brow and read aloud what she saw, "The X-02...Wyvern? Wait, hang on, I remember that name." She glanced over the design once again. "That's one of those advanced fighters they showcased at an airshow a while back, wasn't it? I remember hearing about it but I never could find a good photo of the damn thing. No wonder it didn't look familiar...and Erusea developed it?"
"Back during the last Continental War. Well, before that actually, but you can imagine why it took so long to get it ready and flying. Between Ulysses and the war they had a lot to contend with," Long Caster said. When he put it like that, it was understandable why they hadn't seen much of it. Question was how Osea somehow ended up with their hands on it, but Long Caster answered that question soon enough. "Apparently there was plenty of room for improvement, so they handed it over to our 'friends' at Gründer Industries. So, evidently in addition to the drones and the AI they've been assisting Erusea with they also had the time to create an advanced variant of the Wyvern."
"Did the Princess know anything about this?" Naomi asked, glancing over to where the younger girl sat quietly, keeping her head down. She was always so quiet it was hard to believe she'd been so animated with all of her speeches and open about her politics not so long ago. Naomi looked back at the others for an answer.
"She said she didn't," Naomi's father answered, crossing his arms. "She claimed she only knew about that advanced drone they were developing. The Ravens. And based on the look on her face when we asked her about it, I'm inclined to believe her."
"She's been honest with us this entire time. I'd say she's telling the truth. If she knew about this in any great detail she would have told us by now," Beckett added. Both of them seemed convinced, and Naomi really didn't have any reason to doubt them. She didn't have much of a reason to doubt the Princess about that either, but that didn't mean she wasn't wary. Beckett continued. "They had a lot up their sleeves, but that doesn't mean she was privy to it all. In any case, all things considered, I think we're all very lucky you were able to shoot that plane down. Took care of two birds with one stone, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Naomi said, staring down at the blueprints. It had been challenging to say the least, but she doubted it was going to be the hardest fight yet. Those drones were still going to be an issue, say nothing of the Arsenal Bird. As much as she wanted that to be that, it wasn't that simple. "So what's the other thing, then? You said there was something else. Is it gonna give us an idea of what we have to do next?"
"That would bring us to our next order of business," Beckett said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He gestured out towards the chairs. "Go and sit down. Everyone else needs to hear this, too."
"Come on. I'll go with you," her father said, putting a hand on her shoulder to lightly guide her over to one of the chairs.
Naomi complied, not really having much of a choice. They took only a few steps before they reached the front row and took a seat, and not long after Count took a seat on Naomi's other side without a word. The three of them sat there, watching Beckett and Long Caster quietly talk and get some things together for...whatever it was they were about to tell everyone. It made her more antsy than she already was, and although she would have gotten her answer before long she wasn't able to keep herself together. She leaned over towards her father, keeping her voice low as she asked him, "Whatever they're about to...I dunno, brief us on, I guess...is it bad news? Like, should I be worried?"
Her father gave her an exasperated look, shifting in his seat. "Naomi..."
"Please? Just to keep me from going crazy over here?" Naomi said, trying to give him a small smile.
"Pretty sure it's too late for that," Count said and she heard him let out a breathy chuckle, clearly having been eavesdropping on them. Not that she was trying to keep it from him.
At that, her father, apparently not on her side, actually cracked a small smile and shook his head. He shared a look with Count before he looked back at Naomi, the smile still barely present on his face. He gave her the same look he did when she was younger and prying about things probably better left alone. Or just being a pain in the butt in general. It was a mix between exasperation and amusement. Then he took a deep breath. "I know you've never been good at it, but patience is a virtue. Or so they say, anyways," he said, glancing back to where Beckett and Long Caster stood. "You'll find out any minute now."
Naomi sucked in a breath and leaned back in her seat, having half a mind to cross her arms and pout. It wouldn't have solved anything, but it didn't change that the thought did cross her mind. She sighed. "C'mon, Dad, it's a yes or no question," she muttered. "I know I'm being an impatient pain in the ass, alright?"
"No. Not to the pain in the ass thing, you're definitely being that," her father said, and she barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes even if she agreed. He smirked, noticing her reaction. "But the answer to your question is 'no'. You shouldn't be worried. In fact, if anything, you should be ecstatic."
Before Naomi could ask him what he meant by that, Beckett cleared his throat and the entire room went quiet. Everyone's conversations, as hushed as they already were, completely ceased as they gave their commander their full attention. He looked them all over, making sure he had everyone's attention, before he nodded to Long Caster and the AWACS controller began to manually set everything up on the 3D map that they had. It only took him a minute or so at most, having had plenty of practice with it over the last several weeks.
As he made the final adjustments, Beckett decided to get on with what he had to say. Everyone seemed nervous judging from how tense the atmosphere was, and in spite of what her father had said Naomi couldn't help but be a bit nervous. But Beckett simply sighed and tried to put on a smile for everyone as he got things started. "Well, up front I suppose I should tell you all that there's nothing to be worried about. Not yet, anyways."
"Don't tell me you've got another operation lined up already," Fencer said, and he sounded exhausted. Almost like he was still trying to wake himself up.
"If it's not bad news, then please tell me all of this is over and we can go home," Boggard added, on the verge of sounding like he was whining.
"There's not any path for us to get home right now. Not with the way things are going," Jaeger commented, crossing his arms where he sat. He sounded as though he was reluctant to accept that fact himself, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No matter how much all of them hated having to face that. "No matter what direction we fly, the risk is about the same. There's no telling what we're going to be flying into."
"Alright, easy. We're not going home just yet, but...there's hope for that, yet," Beckett said, apparently choosing his words carefully if his tone and expression were any indication. He nodded to Long Caster, and Long Caster pulled up two columns of text. One was a ciphertext message, and the column beside it showed the supposed translation, but it was too small to make out most of what it said. Beckett was quick to explain. "A week or so ago we intercepted an encrypted communication over the partially restored network, and we've been trying to decipher it ever since. Thanks to our own guys, Genette, and the Erusean Conservatives that defected, we were able to crack it."
Naomi swallowed and quickly asked, "What did it say?"
"From what we were able to decrypt and piece together, it looks to be a rallying call for whatever allied forces can hear them, so to speak," Long Caster answered for her, selecting and clicking a portion of the text. It wasn't a very long message, just enough to get the necessary information out. "Apparently, Osean, Erusean, and a few scattered forces from the IUN have allied, while the Erusean Radicals have been flocking to Selatapura and the space elevator. Right now the plan is to take back whatever they can, be it on the ground or in the air, and apparently they've already managed to take back a portion of the city if the message is to be believed."
"Wait, wait, are you serious?" Lanza asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Everyone else was about the same, sitting there in shock. Lanza went on, no one else having figured out what to say. "So, what about the Arsenal Bird? And then those experimental drones or whatever that you told us about? It's gonna be hard to take the peninsula back with those things buzzing around, forget about the ISEV."
"The Arsenal Bird's defense network is mainly anti-air if previous operations prove anything," Knocker pointed out, sounding thoughtful. If anyone knew about the Arsenal Bird's range and perimeter, it was Naomi and every other former IUN pilot in the room.
"Exactly. Ground forces have managed to slip past it unnoticed, the trouble comes in when you need air support," Skald said quickly, and Naomi wondered if he'd already been thinking about this before now. It wouldn't surprise her. Anyone could see that all of this was bound to end at the Lighthouse. He went on. "And if the Radicals are desperate enough, they're going to need just that. Otherwise they're going to be completely annihilated. Which brings us to our next problem...if the source of this message hasn't been verified, then it's entirely possible that we're looking at a trap."
Húxiān gave a thoughtful hum, her attention turning from Skald to Beckett. "Okay, so, how do we know they're not just looking to kill us all?"
Beckett and Long Caster both looked to Genette, who evidently could answer the question. He seemed stunned for a second, but he quickly recovered and said, "Well, the mere fact that we were able to decode the message in the first place more or less proves it's likely from an ally." He cleared his throat, clearly not confident in whatever abilities had led them to the solution, apparently not confident in his own knowledge. "Anyways, according to former officers working under General Labarthe's command and some of the refugees previously aligned with the Radical forces, the Eruseans had separate keys when it came to encrypted messages such as this. Apparently, the mistrust ran deep from the start; their higher-ups were using codes unique to each faction, all the while leading the other to believe they were using the standard military keys."
Everyone sat there, more surprised Genette knew any of this rather than the information he presented them. Count narrowed his eyes, the first one to find his voice and ask the question on most everyone's minds, "How the hell does a journalist learn how to figure out a military cipher? Let alone help break it?"
"He's had some unconventional experiences," Kathryn answered. She was among the small handful of people in the room that didn't seem at all caught off guard by Genette's apparently hidden talent. She also was uninterested in dwelling on it. "That, and he's a smart guy. We'll just leave it at that."
"Back on topic, the key to breaking it was a mix of the Osean military's key and that of the Erusean Conservatives," Genette quickly got to the point now, talking faster than Tabloid was able to when he got to rambling. He took a breath, then jumped right back in. "Essentially, there's no way to prove it isn't somehow a trap, however given the encryption and the message itself I think that it's highly unlikely."
"So, what, we're gonna fly in and hope for the best?" Tabloid asked.
"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out. We could go in full force, or we could try and play things safe. Or we could pass up an opportunity that might just help us end the war," Beckett said. He looked around the room, focusing on Naomi for a moment. She met his gaze, wondering if he had his own plan or was expecting her to say something. A few seconds of silence, and he finally asked her, "So, Trigger...I know you've been adamant that we take back the space elevator. What do you make of this?"
Naomi hesitated, glancing at the map behind him, but she already knew her answer. It was risky, but it might be necessary. The ISEV was the whole reason this war started, and if they could take it back then they might be able to end the war there. There were a lot of things to consider, but they'd made it this far and now that they had a chance they couldn't let it slip away. She looked around the room briefly, well aware that everyone was watching her, then looked back at Beckett. "I think we should go for it," she said. "But with the Arsenal Bird and those drones to worry about, it's going to be incredibly dangerous. So we have to find some solution to that first."
"The Arsenal Bird is only an issue to any air support, right?" Avril spoke up, not usually one to offer her insights in the rare briefings she attended but willing to offer it now.
"Yeah," Beckett said, nodding. "And if those drones are up and running they'll probably be focused on taking out as many aircraft as they can just the same."
"Okay, so, we go in on the ground, then," Avril said with a shrug, not at all put off by the fact she was now everyone's focus. She decided to explain herself some more. "The allies have supposedly managed to take back some of the city, right? So we send some guys in on the ground to meet up with whoever's there."
Major Grimm gave her an impressed look, slowly nodded. "Hey, that's not a bad idea, actually," he said, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he went on. "If we go all in we could have enough to put up a fight if it's a trap...it wouldn't be any riskier than heading for Anchorhead, even if I'm not keen on the idea. If it's not a trap we can send out another message to clear the way for you guys, maybe get some more air support so we're prepared if the Arsenal Bird shows up."
"We only have so many guys to send in, though," Bandog pointed out, absentmindedly petting Sarge as she sat beside him, her head resting on his knee. He went on, "Even if we sent everyone in, the odds aren't so great if it does turn out to be a trap."
"Well...we could ask for volunteers..." Major Grimm said, speaking slowly. He was obviously hesitant and not too sure of his own suggestion.
"Surely you don't mean..." Hans was the only one to find his voice, but everyone caught on. Especially when his brother gave him an almost sad and guilty look on his face. Hans let out a huff. "You're kidding..."
Kathryn was the next person to catch on, looking between her husband and brother-in-law with a shocked look on her face. "You're gonna ask the refugees – who have already been through hell – if they want to be the pawns in this game?"
"When you put it like that it sounds worse than it is," Major Grimm said, heaving a sigh. "I'm just saying that a few of them were soldiers before all this happened. And most of the adults are able-bodied and recovering well. It's more of a precaution, really."
"Forget about whether or not they're capable of it, it's a risky plan period. If it is a trap then it's one we should face. Not risk sacrificing good men, military or not," Kathryn said. She crossed her arms. "Our chances would be better if we all just went straight for the Arsenal Bird, and that's enough of a shit plan on its own so that's saying something."
"I think it's a risk worth takin' if you ask me," Clown put in, shrugging. "It's either that or we sit here and do nothin', and I for one would like to go home."
Naomi's father sighed. "I think you speak for just about everyone there," he said. "We can ask them to volunteer, but after everything they've been through I don't think we should get our hopes up. It's a pretty unfair request."
"Then we'll play the hand that we're dealt. But we can't just sit here and do nothing, not when we can put up a fight," Naomi said, getting to her feet to look around at the others, not wanting an argument to break out if she could help it. "Look, I'm not a fan of the idea of asking those people to fight. And I don't like the idea of sending anyone in there without air support. But we have to do something. It's not like we won't be right behind whoever goes in."
She didn't know if she was saying that to convince them or to convince herself, but it seemed to make those that were clearly uncertain about things think about it for a bit. Even Colonel Beckett, who waited for any other protests before he spoke up. "Okay...we'll try and come up with a better plan, but in the meantime it looks like we'll be going to the Lighthouse before long," he said. He looked them all over. "Any complaints?"
Everyone shook their heads and mumbled their own 'no' or anything along those lines. Kathryn didn't protest, but she did take a deep breath and let her opinion be known. "Well, I think it's an insane plan but it's not like we can afford to be picky," she said. "So, fine. We'll do what we have to."
"You know I'm not gonna let anyone happen to anyone under my command, Ryn, just the same as you," Major Grimm said with a sigh, looking over at her. He didn't really sound hurt, just tired, and at the tone and his use of a nickname for her Kathryn gave him an almost apologetic look. He added, "I haven't lost anyone yet, I'm not gonna lose anyone now."
"That's...not what the problem is," Kathryn said, but she didn't seem interested in pressing the matter anymore. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Jacob, I didn't mean to doubt you."
"Well, if we're still on the topic of volunteers..." Naomi's father said, crossing his legs and arms. You didn't need to be a genius to figure out what he was getting at. And sure enough, a second later he added, "Count me in. It won't be the first time I've fought on the ground, and that's one less spot you need to worry about."
Naomi took a deep breath, already knowing well that she should have expected that from him. It was easier to protect him if he was in the air, but she knew she had to accept things like this if she was going to be on the same battlefield as her father. He made eye contact with her, a determined look on his face but a softer look in his eyes, and it was enough to reassure her. Or at the very least remind her not to worry, and if nothing else a reminder not to show him that she was worried.
Before anyone could say anything else, the Princess, who had been sitting in silence for the entirety of the discussion, lifted her head and put on an equally determined look. Then she raised her voice enough to be heard, though she hardly sounded as confident as Naomi's father. Regardless, she made a declaration of her own and drew everyone's attention to her as she spoke.
"I want to volunteer as well."
|...|...|...|
Selatapura, Usea.
0845hrs.
The assault had been unexpected. In just a few hours, most of Parrish's men stationed around the city had been pushed back unexpectedly by what was apparently a joint operation carried out by Conservatives that had allied with Osea. Or at least that was Schroeder's understanding of the situation. He'd been busy with his work – or rather, busy stalling his work when it happened. In all the chaos he'd been ordered to stay put with Simon, Massa, and the girls, but the support facility itself didn't appear to be in any danger.
Against Simon and Massa's protests, Schroeder left the workspace and ventured outside, telling the four of them to stay put. Judging from the lack of gunfire and explosions he seriously doubted the support facility itself was in any kind of immediate threat. The halls were quiet, as usual, giving the building an almost abandoned feel and telling Schroeder that the few soldiers assigned to guard inside (though what they were there to guard was a mystery) of the facility were busy outside.
When he finally exited the building, his suspicions were confirmed. Trucks and tanks and soldiers were all running about the area, the forces now scattered around the manmade island. But there wasn't any sign of a fight going on, save for the few soldiers having to be carried to a small medical outpost that had been thrown together. No one paid Schroeder any attention as he carefully weaved around the people running or gathered about, and he likewise didn't pay much attention to them once he established there wasn't an immediate threat to be worried about. He stayed out of their way and they stayed out of his.
General Parrish stood not far from the building, speaking to a couple of captains that looked fatigued and war-weary. It was likely as a result of the sudden fight, though it seemed to be over now. Judging from Parrish's expression, though, he had a good feeling that the fight hadn't been lost but probably hadn't been won either. The General had been in a good mood for a time given that the Ravens were ready to take off as soon as he gave the order, and it helped that he was healing however slowly. But even as Schroeder had kept a careful distance, he noticed that the man's demeanor changed at the drop of a hat. Which wasn't a new discovery, Schroeder was well aware of that fact long ago, but these days the General seemed...especially unstable.
Against his better judgment, Schroeder risked approaching him, not fond of being unaware of what was going on around him if he was going to be stuck in an active warzone. That and he wasn't going to be treated like a prisoner either. He reached Parrish just as the two soldiers he was speaking with nodded, gave a quick salute, and darted off to return to whatever post they left or carry out whatever orders they were given. He watched them go before turning his attention back to Parrish, finding that the General had taken notice of him. There wasn't any way he could second guess his decision now.
"Doctor...I thought you were told to stay put," Parrish said, narrowing his eyes. He spoke slowly, like he was confused and trying not to show it. Either confused or suspicious, not that Schroeder had any reason why he might be the latter. "Is there something wrong or anything I should know about?"
"No, nothing like that," Schroeder said, stopping a few feet from Parrish. Although he wasn't usually an anxious man he was a cautious one, and he was keeping enough distance between them on the off chance he became the target of one of the General's fits of rage. Should Parrish lunge at him he wanted a chance to get away. Instantly he regretted giving into his curiosity and investigating the state of things outside, but he might as well finish following through. "My assistants and the girls became worried when we hadn't heard anything after a while. I wanted to make things okay."
"So you put the project at risk by venturing out into an unknown situation? Just to satisfy your childish curiosity?" Parrish asked, an edge to his voice that told Schroeder he was once again fishing for a reaction. Just looking for an excuse to lash out as usual no doubt.
Schroeder ignored the fact that the General's concern wasn't actually for him, but rather for the knowledge and abilities he possessed. That was fine. He was used to it. "Hardly. I wouldn't have come out here if I thought there was any danger, and clearly there wasn't," he replied coolly. "Is there any update on the situation?"
Parrish didn't answer right away, taking in a deep breath and trying not to wince as he let it out. His injury, although presumably healing well, must have been bothering him that day. Physically, he had been looking...somewhat better. His skin was less pale and sickly, but today he was starting to look ill again. He kept going, though, possibly only out of spite at this point. After a short pause, he answered the question. "Whatever joint operation went on...it didn't quite hit us off guard. However, they must have expected that we would be expecting some kind of assault...Labarthe and his men were smarter than I gave them credit for...Osea, too."
"Meaning?" Schroeder asked, though he had a pretty good idea.
"Meaning that they were able to easily overpower us. We've lost control of most of the industrial area," Parrish said. He looked over the group of soldiers that had fallen back to the support facility's island, stifling a cough as he brought a hand up to clutch his side. Schroeder pretended not to notice, though it was a clear moment of weakness. He cleared his throat. "It wouldn't surprise me if Labarthe had been conspiring with the Oseans long before now, planning this all along. But it doesn't matter. We're holding what ground we have left."
Schroeder bit his tongue, wondering if he should even bring it up. He had a few doubts, not about the capability of the drones but of their purpose. But he wondered if Parrish would notice if he was holding something back, and he wasn't looking to draw attention to himself. So he decided to ask, "Why not deploy the drones? Surely they're more than capable of handling an air-to-ground assault."
"No. My men can hold their ground. I'm not going to disgrace the entire project by swatting a few insects with the Ravens," Parrish replied with a shake of his head, sounding tired. But there was also a hint of bitterness in his voice. Suddenly, he blinked, looking as though he'd had some breakthrough. There was the faintest ghost of a smile on his face. "Although, this does present the perfect opportunity to draw out that Three Strikes and take care of her, once and for all."
"You sound awfully confident of that," Schroeder observed, noting the cool confidence in the General's voice.
"They're attempting to take back the space elevator. For a moment it's not so desperate and pathetic, but...they won't be breaking through as easily as they seem to think," Parrish said. He straightened up. "And I'm sure they already made some attempt to rally more allies. I'm sure if Three Strikes is out there and not a coward, she'll arrive in due time and we'll finally take out one of our biggest problems." He paused to chuckle a little. "I'd like to see them keep fighting once she's gone."
"So you intend to lie in wait, then?"
"Just as I have been, Doctor. Just as I have been..." Parrish said, grimacing and swallowing. The act of laughing must have been an uncomfortable one. "You're onto something with the drones, though. Not the Ravens, of course, but if any air support comes in I need something to thin their numbers before the Arsenal Bird makes its intercept..."
Schroeder took a deep breath. If he wasn't careful, his suggestion was going to take a turn he didn't like. Especially given his own hesitancy towards his work as of late. He shoved his hands into his pockets, not following his instinct to just leave things alone. "If not the Raven, then what did you have in mind?"
"Well, for now the standard drone fighters. They're about the only real air force we have right now, and they'll do the trick as interceptors. Especially to buy time to bait Three Strikes and these new...allies of hers," Parrish said, his voice starting to become strained. He kept his composure, though, but he was clearly starting to tire out. He looked over at Schroeder. "In the meantime, Doctor...the newest batch of the Arsenal Bird's drones. You've uploaded the data to them as well, correct?"
"Actually...I've been...distracted," Schroeder said hesitantly, not wanting to set the General off. But he sensed he might have.
"You've been distracted? By what?" Parrish demanded, turning towards him. His tone immediately changed.
"It's a more complicated process than you've been led to believe," Schroeder said, lying with more ease than he expected. He stayed calm, in spite of the fact he knew he was treading into dangerous waters. Self-preservation was a powerful instinct, and Schroeder was already an expert at hiding the truth. Really at this stage uploading the data was as simple as inserting it into the terminal and inputting a few simple codes. But he was banking on Parrish being unaware of that. He kept his composure in order to sell his lie. "It's taken quite a bit of time, you understand. I cannot simply snap my fingers and complete it."
Parrish looked him up and down and then right in the eyes. Schroeder realized just how bloodshot his eyes still were and with the look on his face it made him look like some kind of mad man, not that it was unusual for him. At first he was expecting some kind of argument or accusation, but instead Parrish took a few steps towards him and pointed a finger at his chest, his hand shaking. Whether from weakness or anger, Schroeder didn't know. His voice was low as he spoke. "I'm giving you four days. Hear me? Four days. That's it. And if you haven't done your job by then..."
He trailed off, and although Schroeder knew where he was going with it. He swallowed. "If I haven't, then what?"
"Then you can be replaced," Parrish snapped at him, pressing his finger to Schroeder's chest harshly. He pulled his hand back and straightened up again, his hand returning to clutch his side as he calmly added, "As Erusea's monarchs proved to me, any asset can outlive their use."
Schroeder felt himself clench his jaw and swallow again. It was a threat, as plain as day. Anyone could see that. "I...understand. I apologize for the delay, General," he said, maintaining his own composure. "I'll get right on it."
"See to it that you do," Parrish said, apparently satisfied with the answer.
Schroeder took the opportunity to turn and leave, regretting going out to investigate the situation and cursing himself for his recent work troubles. He didn't have a problem with the project when he was first assigned to work on it, though he hadn't been pleased about being sent out to work at the EASA's facility. But he did what he was told to do and never once complained. So where along the line had he started to falter? When had he started to question the work he was once as passionate about as Simon and even Massa were? When did he decide he was at all fit to question or even judge the ethics behind the whole thing? Apparently he'd gone soft. And he wasn't going to throw his life and career away just for the sake of a bleeding heart.
As he walked back towards the building, he was well aware of Parrish watching his every step. It was nerve wracking, and Schroeder did not consider himself a nervous man. The sounds of gunfire in the distance started up again, likely as this new force – one that Schroeder did not think Parrish was wise to underestimate – began to fight to take over the city once again in an attempt to regain the space elevator. Everyone was running out of time, and Schroeder and his assistants were among them. He knew he needed to adapt to that, however frustrating it may be.
There wasn't much time left for him to stall. And he had to make a decision he didn't want to, but he couldn't help but wonder: if it wasn't for his sake, then who was he doing this for?
|...|...|...|
Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
1400hrs.
Rosa stared down at the collapsable table that had been left out in one of the hangars, now serving as part of the crash course she agreed to. It was the only thing she could do to set Henri and the others' worries at ease without putting her foot down and throwing her title around. Her bodyguard was not a pushover and the Oseans didn't want a liability. Although she had shot a gun before, they all made it clear she needed to know how to properly handle it and herself in case she ended up caught in the middle of a shootout on the ground. It was a reasonable enough request, she figured.
She had surprised herself by volunteering the way she had, but she wasn't going to let herself back down. Maybe she wanted to prove she wasn't helpless or that she deserved respect. Or to prove to everyone that she wasn't like every other politician they'd seen and that she wasn't all talk. Deep down she wondered if it was everyone else she was trying to prove it to or herself, but she couldn't really get very introspective given the situation.
After lunch and a lot of trying and failing to convince Henri that he needed to rest and not worry about teaching her anything they all headed out to the hangar. Under the circumstances, she'd amassed a small audience to come and watch her. Major Foulke along with Kathryn had come along to watch, something that surprised her, while Avril was in the hangar already by chance. James also asked if she would mind if he watched, and given he'd been good at offering her moral support thus far she had no issue with him joining them. Although admittedly Rosa didn't have high hopes for herself and was convinced she'd make even more of a fool out of herself in front of them.
If she lost what little respect she'd earned with them she would have to live with it. She wouldn't like it, but she would live with it. However, although she couldn't quite be sure of this, she couldn't help but wonder if she had actually earned more respect from Major Foulke by offering to go out and...well, she hoped she wouldn't actually have to do much fighting but she doubted she'd be able to just show her face and expect the Radicals to throw down their arms. And if she wasn't expecting a fight she wouldn't have agreed to the whole gun thing.
"Your Highness," Henri's voice broke her train of thought and she looked up to where he stood beside her. Although his injury was getting better every day, he was still easily exhausted and at that moment she would have rather sent him off to lie down somewhere. Once he had her attention, he continued. "Now, I'm well aware that you've used a gun before. After..." Henri trailed off, then collected himself. "Well, after General Parrish and his men attacked us."
"That's right," Rosa said with a nod. It wasn't an experience she was interested in reliving. She'd been acting on instinct and she hadn't even been sure what she was doing, falling back on what she'd seen on TV and watching Henri. Looking back, she wondered if she'd even done it right, but all she could remember was fear and her ears ringing so loud she could barely think straight. "But I don't know if I could do it over again. I barely made the shot I did."
"If myself and our Osean friends can do our jobs right you shouldn't have to," Henri said, glancing over at where James, Major Foulke, and Kathryn stood watching. The Major and Kathryn exchanged an exasperated look, the former clearly having a comment that she kept to herself if the look on her face was any indication.
"Henri." Rosa kept her voice stern but didn't snap. She was trying to build bridges, not burn them down, and although Henri was only looking to watch over her, she could pick out the bitterness in his voice. He still hadn't forgiven the Major for her outburst, and he definitely didn't trust her, and that lack of trust likely extended to those he noticed were closest to her. The exceptions to this were Avril, Kathryn, and Bandog, but only because they had been on the ground with them and given their association with Major Foulke they were on thin ice. Rosa wasn't going to tolerate that when they were all on the same side. "I'm not going to be dead weight. I'm going along to help end this war."
"You yourself have stated we don't have to fight to end this war," Henri pointed out. He sent another glare the Major's way. "In fact, Your Highness, that's a step in the opposite direction. There shouldn't be any blood on your hands."
"I don't want anyone else to have to die. But if something goes wrong..." Rosa hesitated. She thought back to the day she shot Parrish. She hated it, but if she was in the same situation she couldn't confidently say she wouldn't make the exact same decision. And it almost made her sick. She shook it off, keeping herself composed. "I can't expect everyone to keep fighting for me, if the operation goes south. What kind of a leader am I if I use my own people and our allies as human shields?"
"And what kind of a leader would you be if you're willing to shoot your own people?" Henri challenged her, though she knew he wasn't so much arguing for their sake so much as a reason why she should be less involved in the front lines. "Radicals they may be, they are still Eruseans. You could be placing yourself in more danger by doing this. Danger that I can't make go away as easily."
"All the more reason for me to know how to properly defend myself. You are not my father, Henri," Rosa said, trying to keep herself from snapping although she found it hard. He was the last person she wanted to be treating her like a child. She took a few deep breaths, noticing Henri's expression soften as an almost guilty look crossed his face. "There's a way I can try to end this without fighting, I just don't see it yet. So until then, show me how to fight."
"Yes, Your Highness, as you wish," Henri said, relenting without much more of a fight, though his hesitancy was evident in his voice.
He reached for the gun carried in the holster on his hip, pressing down on a small button mechanism to release the magazine into his hand. Then he pulled the top of the gun back. Rosa at least knew enough to recognize why he did, and all she knew was that it was to make sure the gun had truly been unloaded. Beyond that she wasn't confident enough in the terminology to get too technical. He set the magazine on the table and set the gun beside it as he began an explanation on the individual components.
"Now, please listen carefully to me. You need to know how the weapon functions before you can handle it," he said, making sure she was paying attention before he moved on. He pointed out what she was already familiar with to start with. "You're well aware of the trigger and the trigger guard, as well as the muzzle...or barrel, whichever you've heard before. Understand?" Rosa nodded and he continued, going from larger to smaller sections. "The part that pulls back is the slide. You pull it back to chamber a round or to eject it. When it's empty, it's going to stay in place. You can release it with this button or by firmly pulling it back and letting it slide forward. Are you with me still, Your Highness?"
Rosa watched as he went through the motions as he spoke, always keeping the gun pointed away from them. She nodded, making sure she took everything in. "Right. I understand," she said. The actions themselves weren't completely foreign, though she never understood why these things were done until now. "You pull it back to load or empty it...right?"
"Well, not really to fully empty it. To do that, you have to release the magazine. That's what this button here is for," Henri said, tilting the gun at an angle she could see but still keeping it pointed at the wall in front of them. He pointed out another button practically right next to the trigger. "You press that and it releases it for you to grab, just like you saw before." He set the gun down and then picked up the magazine, emptying it by hand and dropping each individual bullet onto the table. Once it was completely empty, he grabbed the gun and slid the now empty magazine back into the bottom of the gun's handle. "And to reload or swap it out, you just have to make sure it clicks. Like so."
"That all seems...simple enough," Rosa said, actually surprised it was that easy. Although not exactly eager to pick the weapon up or eventually use it, she was eager to get the lesson over with. "So...is there anything else I should know?"
"Just a few more things, Your Highness," Henri said, giving her an almost apologetic smile. He didn't want her to be here any more than she did, but she needed to know this. And she wasn't going to expect any special treatment. "First, you're going to treat your weapon as if it's loaded at all times. That means you keep it pointed away from anyone or anything you don't want to shoot and you keep your finger off the trigger." He rotated his wrist, showing her how he kept his index finger – his trigger finger – above the trigger and trigger guard, on the side of the gun. "Just like this. Until you're ready to shoot."
"Okay." Rosa nodded, making a mental note. "And the other thing?"
"When you line up your shot and get ready to fire, it's wiser to do so with both hands," Henri said. He adjusted his stance, holding the still empty gun, and lifted the weapon towards the wall opposite of them, holding it with both hands. "Keep the gun straight and your forearm firm, in a perfect line. Then with your support hand, you're going to be pulling back. Think of it as though you're bracing for the shot, though, not exactly pulling."
"Both hands, pull back with one, keep the other straight," Rosa said, looking to Henri to make sure she wasn't missing anything.
"Yes, ma'am. I think you've got it down, Your Highness." He nodded and gave her a small smile. "Do you have any questions?"
Rosa was about to say that she didn't, but she held back. There was something she couldn't help but ask. "Is there...a reason you have to always treat the gun like it's loaded? I mean, it's empty right now," she said, hoping she didn't sound dumb. "So why be so careful?"
Before Henri could answer her question, Kathryn's voice cut in and both of them looked at her. She and Major Foulke and the others had been so quiet that Rosa had almost forgotten they were there, and she jumped when she heard her voice. Kathryn, who had been twisting a strand of her hair while she'd been idle, brushed the loose strand behind her ear and placed her hands on her hips as she spoke. "Because it's still a weapon," she said.
Rosa wasn't a particularly snarky person, but she couldn't help but feel like the answer was a stupid one. And not very helpful. "...I'm well aware of that much."
"The point is, if you're going to handle a weapon then you have to treat it like a weapon. Doing this trains you to handle it in a safe way," Kathryn explained to her, and suddenly the response made a lot more sense. Rosa almost felt guilty for thinking badly of her for a moment. "You need to handle it safely at all times to stay in the habit, otherwise you could get careless and shoot yourself or someone else. It may be a helpful tool but it's still a dangerous one. Respect it."
"You make it sound like a living thing," Rosa said, somehow not any more or less nervous than she already was.
"It's not. It's the same principle behind handling one of these things." This time it was Avril that chimed in from where she stood, doing some kind of repair to one of the Osean aircraft. Well, it was Major Foulke's aircraft, actually. Hard to get it confused with the signature three strikes on the tail of it. Avril slapped her hand against the aircraft's belly for emphasis. "It may look cool and all, but at the end of the day there's still things that could go wrong. Like badly. You don't have to be afraid of it, but you do need to handle it with care. Make sense?"
Kathryn, Major Foulke, and James all nodded along in agreement with what she said. When Avril put it like that, it did make sense. Rosa eventually also nodded. "That helps, yeah. I hadn't really been thinking clearly, sorry."
"And speaking of handling with care..." James spoke now, almost hesitantly, looking between Rosa and Henri. "You're not gonna let her go outside and jump straight to target practice, are you? You'll start her out dry firing?"
"Of course I'm going to," Henri said, almost sounding offended. "We don't have the ammunition to waste.
"Dry firing?" Rosa echoed.
"You aim and pull the trigger, but the gun isn't loaded when you do. Basically, you learn to shoot the gun without ever actually shooting it," James explained to her quickly. "It's how I learned to shoot when I was a kid. That way you don't get scared by the sound or thrown off by any recoil."
Major Foulke, who was what Rosa learned was unusually quiet for her, spoke up. "And by 'thrown off' he means that literally," she said. She looked like she almost wanted to smile, but she was holding back. "You'd be amazed how many people shoot for the first time and end up falling flat on their ass."
Although the memory of shooting Parrish had been a blur and what details she remembered she would have rather buried altogether, she did distinctly remember a few things. The most distinct thing in her mind was feeling like she had the wind knocked out of her and then a ringing in her ears so loud she couldn't even think straight. It had been unpleasant to say the least, but she pulled herself together if only for Henri and Leo's sake. For once, though, she didn't feel sick from the memory. No, she felt sheepish.
"I think that happened to me when I...well, when I shot at General Parrish," Rosa admitted, feeling embarrassed at the memory. She didn't have to tell them, but then she thought it might be some way to make light of the situation. Not that it was exactly the kind of thing you wanted to make positive. She still wished it had never happened at all, but there wasn't any changing that.
Instead of mocking her or making her feel like there was some inside joke or snide commentary they weren't letting her in on, she actually got a round of sympathetic smiles from everyone. Even Major Foulke. In fact, the Major was willing to try and offer a bit of reassurance as she said, "Like I said, it happens to a lot of people. You're hardly the first and you're not gonna be the last."
"Thanks." Rosa didn't know what else to say, so she just gave her a half-hearted smile.
At the lull in the conversation, Henri cleared his throat. "Well, on that note, do you think you're ready to work on this a bit? Remember, there's not any pressure, Your Highness."
"No, no, it's fine. I'll give it a try," Rosa replied quickly. She turned around, taking a deep breath. "So, tell me what to do."
"Run through everything I just told you. Try and think of it like a dance you have to learn," Henri said, likely offering the explanation to give her the 'why' answer without her ever having to ask. "Just get the movements down for now. Load, slide, and shoot...not actually, of course. And keep going through the movements until you feel confident in them."
Nodding and trying to swallow her nerves, Rosa ran through the same movements she'd seen demonstrated for her. She kept the gun pointed away from anyone and her fingers off the trigger as she released the magazine, checked that the gun was truly empty, reinserted the empty magazine, and with some difficulty managed to get the slide to go back into its proper place. Then she moved into the stance she'd seen Henri show her, lining up the shot on the empty hangar wall and bringing her other hand up to support it.
But even with the knowledge that the gun wasn't loaded and that even if it was she wasn't shooting anything but a wall, she couldn't convince her mind or even her body of that. Her hands were unsteady and her whole arm trembled, and with everyone watching her it just made her feel worse. All she could think about was the sickening crack from when she'd fired it at Parrish and the knowledge she'd put him in excruciating pain. It had been terrifying, even as the one in control of the weapon.
Losing what little nerve she had left, Rosa gave in. She relaxed her muscles and lowered the weapon, dropping her head to stare down at her feet. "I can't. I can't do it."
"Your Highness?" Henri started.
"I just can't," Rosa insisted, still remembering what she'd been told and keeping the gun pointed at the ground between her feet. She looked around at everyone watching her, nothing compared to the audiences she had faced before, but she still felt like she'd let the five of them down somehow. Avril and Kathryn looked confused, Henri and James looked concerned, and Major Foulke was watching her with a blank expression. It was the Major that she felt she'd disappointed the most. She braced herself for her disapproval, locking eyes with the infamous Three Strikes before immediately looking away. "I can't. I'm sorry."
The Major sighed and Rosa fully expected her to make some remark about how she'd proven her right, but there was silence. Then the sound of footsteps, and although she didn't think the Major would ever hurt her there was still that anxiety that came from walking on eggshells around volatile politicians and she was fully prepared to be yelled at. But once the Major reached her, she sounded almost...soft when she spoke. "Look up and lift the gun again."
Rosa shook her head, avoiding eye contact. "I already said I can't. I can't think about shooting someone," she insisted. "Hasn't there been enough bloodshed in this war? Henri is right. What kind of a leader am I if I'm willing to just...shoot someone and not even think about it!"
"The kind that cares about her people, that's what kind," the Major said, still not snapping. The comment caused Rosa to lift her head and look at her, bewildered. For a fearsome pilot, and one that Rosa had seen up close when she was on the warpath, she looked more tired than anything at that moment. The Major explained, "That's what you have to tell yourself. You may be fighting other people, but those people are going to hurt your people if you don't do something to stop them. And sometimes you can't talk those people down."
"But the people we're fighting are my people," Rosa said, trying to fight back the grief and fear she felt just at the thought of it. She let the gun hang in one hand, using her other for emphasis as she gestured off in some vague direction. "And they're gonna hurt even more of my people. My whole country has turned in on itself and I can't stop that! If I can't talk them down, then what? I have to shoot them?"
"Listen to me, Princess," the Major said, putting a hand on either of Rosa's shoulders with a surprising amount of gentleness as she pulled her around so that they were face to face. She still wasn't snapping as she spoke, in spite of the stern look on her face. "You said it yourself: the Radicals are not innocent. If you can talk them down, then great, but if you can't then you need to decide who you want to shelter. And if you ask me, you oughta protect the people that stayed by your side and the ones close to you."
"But how? I'm scared." Rosa tried, but she could feel her throat tighten and her eyes start to water. She lowered her voice, barely above a whisper, pretty sure she sounded so...weak at that moment. "I am terrified and how am I supposed to protect anyone if I'm just as scared as they are?"
"Do you think I'm not? Do you think anyone on this base isn't scared after all of this?" Major Foulke asked her and Rosa couldn't answer. The Major took a deep breath and put on the faintest ghost of a smile. "But you can be scared and still put up a fight, just like you did against Parrish before, right?" Rosa managed to nod and the Major's smile became almost determined. "Now lift that gun and think about the people you want to look after. Forget about yourself and think about how many people out there are going to try and hurt them. If you want to be next to them on the battlefield, combatant or not, then you have to be able to protect them."
Rosa stared at the Major for a while, feeling her shoulders released as she took a step back from her and waited. Although part of Rosa wanted to keep sputtering about how she couldn't, her head still racing, she suddenly saw things from a completely new perspective. All this time she'd been safely watching the war while looking down on the people fighting in it, all the while sharing responsibility for its existence in the first place. But not everyone wanted this war and whether they found those people along the way or had them waiting back home there were people they wanted to look after.
It was silly, she realized, to miss something so obvious. When she stood there, thinking about having to shoot someone to protect herself...it was awful. But then she thought about Henri...her parents...the refugees. Although she wasn't proud of shooting Parrish, she couldn't say she wouldn't do it again if someone else's life was on the line and not hers. Self-preservation was a strong instinct and one she might actually be able to fall back on in an emergency, but it wasn't something she could use to keep herself going.
Keeping the people Major Foulke had told her to in mind, Rosa took a deep breath and shakily returned to the stance she'd been in, lifting the gun up. She took a deep breath and imagined the situation that the refugees or Henri were in danger, and she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger, bracing for the sound. But the only sound that filled the hangar was a quiet, clear metallic click. She opened her eyes. There was no danger, no sickening sound, and she hadn't missed the invisible 'mark' she'd set for herself.
She looked around and saw the Major smiling at her as the others were quick to do the same, and she gave a relieved smile of her own. Still sick to her stomach and wondering how she was going to manage not to cave if she was actually in danger, she managed a small, tired and relieved laugh as she said, "I did it."
|...|...|...|
1600hrs.
Naomi watched as the Princess continued her training, rinsing and repeating the motions just as she was instructed. She wasn't taking it too badly once she finally got the hang of it, only pinching her fingers in the slide a few times but quickly getting her head back in the game. After she got through the initial 'shots' she seemed to regain some of her confidence, and Naomi wondered if it at all had to do with what she'd told her though she wasn't quite sure.
What she said was what helped her get through things. She had to think about what was important to her, and that's what kept her going. She loved the people she had come to know in all of this, arguably even more than she loved being able to fly, and although she hated everything about this war that didn't mean she wasn't going to do what she had to to end it. And do so without losing anyone else.
Kathryn and Tailor carried out a quiet conversation between themselves while Henri continued to encourage the Princess, so Naomi stood off further to the side by her aircraft while Avril tinkered away. She didn't want to disturb anyone and she had too many thoughts running through her head to think of anything to pin down. So she just stood off to the side, being uncomfortably quiet and forcing herself to be okay with that.
However, the sound of Avril's wrenching away at whatever maintenance she was working on had gone quiet and all Naomi heard behind her was the unbalanced thumping of boots. A few seconds later she felt a hand gently smack against the back of her head, and when she turned Avril was standing beside her. "Hey," she greeted, taking off the other glove she was wearing before placing her hands on her hips. "Your plane's all ready for your next operation, whenever that is. And I oughta give you hell for getting it dinged up...say nothing of that damned engine again."
"Sorry...if it makes you feel better, it's not like I'm trying," Naomi said, tilting her head towards her and giving her an apologetic smile. Avril smirked and rolled her eyes, which Naomi had learned was her own little way of accepting the apology. She shrugged. "But in any case, thanks as always, Avril."
"Yeah, not a problem. Least I can do to keep your dumb ass alive," Avril said matter-of-factly. She was quiet for a few moments, and when she spoke again her voice was low. And unusually soft. "Besides, I gotta do my best for you guys before this whole mess, right? You guys are the cavalry after all."
Naomi nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yup...sounds about right."
Another moment of silence went by and Avril took another step closer to Naomi's side so their arms were almost brushing. She sounded something close to concerned when she spoke again, which was all the more odd for her. "So, I can't help but notice you've been awfully quiet since you got here. Aside from that...interesting speech you gave the Princess," she said. "Something on your mind? Or...someone?"
The tone she used was something close to playful if she didn't sound so sad. Naomi stifled a snort, not sure what she was getting at but having a good feeling it was gonna be something stupid. "Well, believe it or not there's always something on my mind. As for someone...the Princess," Naomi said, answering honestly. She glanced over her shoulder at Avril and furrowed her brow suspiciously. "But something tells me that's not what you were getting at."
"Yes and no, I guess. I was kinda trying to get around to asking you about...some things that Tabloid told me," Avril said, but she shrugged it off. She seemed very dismissive of it all of a sudden. "It's no big deal, I'm not really into that kind of talk anyways. It's all pretty stupid if you ask me."
"I could use some stupid right about now," Naomi said. She kept her eyes on the Princess as Kathryn threw in some pointer. Naomi wasn't really paying attention to it.
"I dunno, I think you've still got enough stupid to go around all by yourself," Avril said, but before Naomi could come up with a retort she scoffed and filled the silence. She didn't sound all that interested in the topic, but she said it anyways. "It's dumb. Tabloid just happened to mention that Count ended up crashing in your quarters last night...and I dunno, I did notice you two have ended up being pretty close after all this shit."
"He's my wingman, what else would you expect? It's kind of hard not to be close to him. Or anyone, given everything that's happened," Naomi said, swallowing nervously. It wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have. The teasing everyone did with the two of them for one thing, but for some reason the way Avril and Tabloid had both been serious when asking about her and Count made her feel...nervous. She wasn't sure why. "Y'know, I could say the same thing about you and Tabloid."
"That's different. Tabloid didn't hate my guts when he first met me. I'm just saying...I never expected Count would become your ride or die, but he did," Avril said, still sounding less interested than she seemed about the whole thing. "You two are a good team, that's all."
"Yeah, I guess we are," Naomi said, managing to crack a small smile at the thought. Although she'd be lying if she said he wasn't on her mind a lot and she would also be lying if she said that didn't make her a bit nervous, what she was most worried about was the problems facing them. If they actually had a shot of ending this she didn't want anything to go wrong. And yet all she could think about was how things could go wrong. "That's not really what's got me worried, though."
"Let me guess...you're worried about the whole op coming up, right?" Avril asked her. Naomi glanced at her and Avril simply gave her a small smirk and firmly patted her on her shoulders. "Yeah, you aren't really all that hard to read, Trigger." She paused, letting Naomi look back over at the Princess before she spoke again. "So what are you worried about this time?"
Naomi hesitated, taking a breath. She nodded towards the Princess. "I'm worried about her," she said. "I mean, she can try and talk her way out of this war but I'm afraid she's gonna go out there and just get herself killed."
"I knew you smoothed things over with her but I didn't think she mattered that much to you," Avril said, crossing her arms. "Since when are you besties?"
"We're not," Naomi said with a sigh. "But I don't exactly want her dead. Someone's gotta handle the political side of things and it sure as hell isn't gonna be me." She bit the inside of her cheek, wondering when and how she actually started to be so worried for someone that up until recently was the face of her enemy. "I dunno what to think. I'm scared she's gonna get all the way out there, lose her nerve, and the whole thing's just gonna fall apart."
"After that speech you gave her, I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Avril said. They both watched the Princess for a while. It seemed like she had finished up with the actual practical training half of it and Henri was going over something else, and she took it in with a serious look on her face. Avril let out a low chuckle. "I mean look at her, she's all business now. You really knew how to get through to her."
The comment didn't upset her, but Naomi still wasn't ready to admit she and the Princess were somehow the same. They were allies and they had similar goals. They both wanted the war to end and they both wanted to protect what was important to them, but that didn't mean they were wired completely the same. Naomi couldn't find it in her to hate the idea that they were anymore though. At the end of the day they were still different people, but they were starting to figure each other out.
Naomi shrugged off Avril's comment. "I wouldn't say that. She just...I dunno, she's a pretty simple person to figure out, I guess."
"Right." Avril drew the word out and Naomi didn't know if it was because she didn't believe what she was saying or if she was trying to imply that Naomi was in denial. She didn't care either way, since it wouldn't be the worst accusation someone had ever directed at her. Thankfully, Avril was quick to bring the topic to a close. "In any case, I don't think you need to be worried about her. She really seems to admire you, even after you screamed your head off at her. And as much as you try to say otherwise, I think you've reached an understanding with her. It'll be fine."
"Yeah, maybe you're right," Naomi said, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. "How do you feel about all of this?"
"Well..." Avril, who was rarely caught off guard or hesitant to say what she was thinking, didn't seem to have an answer. She stood there, quiet and tense, before she finally replied. "I think we've got a good shot." There was a pause, as if Avril was debating whether or not to even continue, but eventually she did. "And I'm also thinking of...volunteering for it as well."
Her reply caught Naomi off guard and she couldn't help but turn and face her, her anxiety coming back full force. "Are you serious?" she asked, probably sounding more furious than she meant to. "Even after what happened here?"
"Look, I'm just tired of not being able to help on the front lines. If the Princess can go along, there's no reason why I can't," Avril said, scoffing and placing a hand on her hip as she shifted weight off of her bad leg. She frowned. "And I can handle myself in a fight and with a gun a lot better than she can. What's got you so worried?"
"If you were a pilot it'd be different," Naomi said with a huff, pressing a hand to her head. She swallowed, hoping the knot in her throat would go away. "It's bad enough my dad wants to jump on board with the whole thing. I can't control anything that happens on the ground, but at least in the air...I could do more."
"You can't protect everyone all the time. It doesn't mean your friends can't handle themselves," Avril told her with a sigh of her own, sounding a bit exasperated. "You really gotta stop being overprotective all the time. Just do your job and give us a chance to do ours."
Naomi hesitated, pretty sure anything she said would just make her into a bad friend. If Avril had made up her mind it was going to be hard to convince her otherwise. Instead, she asked the only thing she could think of to figure out her own feelings on the matter. "Have you told Tabloid about it?"
Avril looked away, glancing off to the side. "No...but I'm going to," she said. "Why should that matter, though?"
"He's your friend. Our friend," Naomi said. Admittedly, she never understood how those two got along as well as they did but they'd struck up a good friendship back at the 444th. If there was anyone other than Naomi that Avril respected and trusted enough to confide in it would be Tabloid. "I dunno, he's good at troubleshooting. I figured you would have gone to him for advice."
"Maybe I will, I don't know. But the point is, you guys need more guns and I can shoot just fine. I'm going to finish up work with your planes and then I'm going to help you all finish this, end of story," Avril told her, her tone telling Naomi she wasn't in the mood for arguing.
"Okay. I'm sorry, I trust you," Naomi said. She tried for another smile. "Just make sure you look out for everyone for me."
"I'll do my best," Avril said with a chuckle. They fell into a brief silence, and Naomi was about to go and check in on the Princess' progress, but as soon as she turned to move away, Avril cleared her throat. "Uh...hey, Trigger, there's just one more thing I want to talk to you about, since you brought up Tabloid," she said, and then she suddenly added, "And the operation."
Naomi was more suspicious and curious than she was worried. "What is it?"
Avril swallowed, looking almost embarrassed, and then she seemed to pull herself together. Somehow pushing down all the nervousness and putting on her usual resting blank expression, she asked, "Well, what would you think about a party?"