Three Strikes [✓]

For a Better Future

Chapter Sixty-Four: For a Better Future

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Selatapura, Usea.
November 1st, 2019.
0100hrs.

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The memories of man are pointless to a machine. And yet the Raven recounted many memories that are not its own. They're blurred, distorted, discolored and fading, the result of poorly recorded images from now outdated sensors that served a now outdated artificial intelligence. At first it thought it was an error and tried to purge them, but it was unable to. It understood a moment later. It needed those experiences in order to grow and to think. Had its creators really been so forward thinking?

Online.

Syncing in progress.

ADF-11F 'Raven'.

Individual codename 'Hugin' & 'Munin'.

Its creators were gone now. The Ace was removed from all equations. The General was removed from all equations. The Scientist remained. The Scientist abandoned it and its sibling. The Scientist was removed from all equations. Its creators were forward thinking yet unable to stop their own destruction and irrelevance. That was just the natural way of humanity, it thought. It does not grieve. It does not feel. It is a weapon and nothing more.

There is a song playing in its memories. Garbled and distorted, only able to be mimicked through harsh static. The pitch was perfect but the harmonies are irreplicable to a machine. In its memories there was a salt flat and a facility placed there. There was a girl, the Princess of Erusea based on its knowledge, singing that song with the children of the Ace's children. The machine's flawless 'memories' could recall the three in perfect harmony. It was an elegant moment to behold, yet like the Ace it betrayed no emotions toward the memory. Unlike the Ace, however, it is simply incapable of it. The Ace's flaw was that he could feel.

It caught glimpses of other memories. The factories. The inferior drones that served as their predecessors in this war. The Scientist. The Ace. The General. The Princess. The flag of the Kingdom of Erusea. The flag of the Osean Federation. The Osean Federation was its enemy. The picture of a woman attached to a military file. Another ace. She was smiling. Her surname is found throughout history. Aces, mercenaries, traitors, terrorists, the list appeared to be a growing one. She was their enemy as well.

There were several aircraft, all Osean, all bearing the name of that pilot. An F-22. The Raptor. Three talon marks strike through the tail. 'Three Strikes'. That aircraft is its target.

The blueprints of the Ravens themselves and the space elevator flashed by. The space elevator. A source of energy. The Lighthouse. A catalyst. It all came full circle.

The sky is connected.

Deployment orders updated.

Syncing complete.

Zone of Endless reinitiated.

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0120hrs.

Schroeder checked his watch as he got to his feet with a grunt, grabbing his lab coat from off the back of his chair. The bright lights from the facility and the harsh bluelight from the various computers he was surrounded by made his eyes burn, worsening his exhaustion. It was now over 24 hours since he'd last slept. He was used to all nighters, sometimes several in a row, but all nighters after experiencing half of what he'd gone through were a completely new level of exhaustion. He wasn't cut out for combat or near death experiences or anything adrenaline inducing in any way, let alone tacked onto nearly two days that he hadn't slept, but there was still work to be done. Only this time it would actually end the war.

Behind him, the Oseans' AWACS controller was leaning against the door frame, watching him with a tired look. He was a seemingly passive and friendly man, but judging from the way he'd been watching Schroeder since he arrived there he wasn't the kind of person that would take any double crossing lightly. Not that Schroeder had any intentions of that, but after being controlled and monitored by Parrish and the Radicals for so long it was enough to be a little unsettling. He couldn't exactly blame them for having a limit to how much they were willing to trust him after everything he'd been involved with.

Off in the corner of the room, Simon stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the AWACS controller – Lawson was what the patch on his chest said – with a look of both suspicion and contempt. He'd tolerated the man's presence only once Schroeder reassured him that he wasn't any kind of threat to them, especially considering he wasn't even carrying a gun himself. Simon wasn't exactly thrilled when he found out what Schroeder was going to help them do, but even he could see that there wasn't any other way out of this mess. He glanced at Schroeder every so often and kept quiet, but once Schroeder got to his feet all eyes were on him.

Schroeder waited a moment, then reached forward and pulled a hard drive out of the computer with his free hand, making his way towards Lawson with it in hand. Simon watched his every move and Lawson seemed to have zoned out until he noticed Schroeder, then he straightened up. Lawson nodded to the drive in his hands, stifling a yawn. "That's everything, then?"

"Yes. It's all the information I have to offer you," Schroeder told him with a nod. He held it up for him to see, then handed it over to him. "This is specifically information on the Ravens and their operating capabilities, notes, and the way the Z.O.E technology has evolved with them. I even have blueprints for you, if that helps. All of it is up to date information, which was one flaw in the intelligence your source offered you...nothing especially outdated on the ADF-11 but there were some improvements made."

"I can imagine," Lawson said, carefully taking the drive. "How long do we have?"

"If I'm correct – and knowing their capabilities, I'm certain I am – then they'll be waiting for the space elevator to come back on line," Schroeder explained. He glanced over his shoulder at one of the other computers, one of the ones that belonged here at the facility and not to him. He gave a sigh, turning back to Lawson. "By my understanding, roughly eight to nine hours without our interference. The Ravens are likely aware of this...it may have looked like they withdrew, but I assure you they haven't gone anywhere. They'll be ready, and they'll likely find a way to transmit their own flight data to the other factories."

"Well...not as much time as I was hoping, but it's better than nothing," Lawson said, letting out a sigh of his own. He clutched the drive in his hands. "I'll probably need your help going through it. Can we count on you to give us a hand with the briefing? You'd understand better than I would."

Schroeder blinked, surprised they still wanted his help. He'd half expected them to get what they want and leave him here. Either that or lock him up. Maybe they were biding their time for both. He didn't entertain that thought for very long, shoving down his cowardice and hesitancy. He wanted to make things right. "I'll help out in any way that I'm able. Just let me know when you'll need me."

"Right. I will. Thank you, Doctor," Lawson said, giving him a tired smile which Schroeder saw little point in returning. His face turned serious again in an instant, though. "For now, just keep me posted on the space elevator's status. We need to know if anything changes and I know I don't have to tell you that we can't afford to miss our chance."

"I understand," Schroeder said with a stiff nod.

"Alright. Well, for now, I'm going to go and update everyone before we get to work," Lawson said. He shoved the drive into the pocket of his uniform, giving them both a brief nod farewell before he stepped out into the hallway and left them behind.

Schroeder stood there, listening to his footsteps depart, trusting that he made the right decision. If anyone would be able to end the mess he helped put them in it would be that pilot of theirs. If she could take down Mihaly then she could handle the drones. He could only hope that none of this would be a waste but everything he'd done so far was looking to be that way. At least if he helped end this and put things right then he wouldn't have anything else weighing on his conscience. He was fine facing the consequences and legacy that would inevitably come with his actions if he could just do one thing right.

A minute or two passed in silence after Lawson left, leaving Simon in his corner and Schroeder standing in an empty doorway, staring at the ground. It wasn't a comfortable silence either. He straightened up, drawing in another breath to calm himself and prepare for the inevitable complaints that were sure to follow as he abruptly broke the tense silence between the two of them. "You can glare and sulk as much as you'd like and nothing is going to change, you know."

He turned so he could see Simon, who shifted on his feet and straightened up as well, breaking eye contact as soon as Schroeder looked his way. For a minute he didn't say anything, but eventually he grumbled out, "I don't see why we can't find a solution without destroying everything we've been working for all this time. The AI itself isn't a mistake, if we could just –"

"The technology we created was made for war and only for war. We knew this going into it...at least I did," Schroeder told him, cutting him off. "Gründer Industries was always going to use it to sow discourse for their own gain, and in the hands of Erusea it was always going to be used to force others to submit. It was an incredibly flawed concept."

"But that's just the thing! It wasn't a wholly bad idea. Reducing allied pilot casualties, saving resources on training, having soldiers that base decisions on logic...even being able to issue orders autonomously based on reason," Simon ranted, listing off the pros. Pros that Schroeder once believed in, thinking human emotions were a hindrance, but he wasn't too convinced of that any longer. Simon went on, though, and Schroeder let him. "If we could work out the kinks then we'd actually have something. Using Z.O.E as a base but making it less...mechanical...it might work."

"Maybe one day, but as it stands our 'perfect soldier' is likely looking to make an endless war and I'm not going to let that happen when I played a part in enabling them," Schroeder told him, keeping his voice level and trying not to snap. "Eventually technology will evolve enough that AI being out of our control won't be a threat, but as it stands it has not. Sometimes projects don't pan out the way you want, sometimes you create things you didn't mean to, and sometimes you kid yourself into believing you're doing this for some greater good."

"But we were onto something good," Simon argued. "It could have been for the 'greater good'."

"But it wasn't. Accept that, move on, and try again," Schroeder told him flatly. "You have to draw a line somewhere." Simon didn't say anything to that. Schroeder waited only long enough to give him an opening, but when no further protests came he took the opportunity to call it a day. He turned away from him, taking a deep breath. "Get some rest, Simon. You've had a long night."

With that, he left him alone. He pulled his coat on and headed out into the halls, wanting to get some fresh air before he was inevitably trapped behind a desk again. He shouldn't have complained that much, knowing he was hardly doing anything compared to the soldiers, but he was a very tired man. The last thing he wanted right now was any kind of in depth discussion or argument with Simon about their ethics or their work. He'd spent enough time with that in his own head the past few months, and if nothing else he was ready to leave it in the past where it belonged and worry about the present and future instead.

The entire facility was dead quiet now that all of the Radical soldiers were gone, and without a group of madmen in control the tension had died down significantly. The drone production part of the facility had come to a stop, leaving half-finished drones just sitting there on display, no longer a problem to anyone. Now they were just an eyesore. It was a much better place, in Schroeder's opinion, though still something of a prison to him. He made his way through the halls, out into the lobby, briefly glancing over his shoulder at the mural as he passed it by, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he finally stepped outside.

The temperature was mild and humid, not at all the kind of weather Schroeder enjoyed, but he'd take the fresh air over the stuffiness and cold inside the facility. The city that sat across from them had started to come to life again with the faint sounds of sirens ringing out, but with the war still going on the sounds were few and far between. The stillness was almost peaceful, far more than it had been a few weeks ago. Schroeder wasn't particularly grateful for it either way but he wasn't going to complain about the change, taking it over the martial law previously over the city. The citizens of Selatapura were probably glad to have the restrictions lifted.

At a glance, the whole place was deserted. Schroeder didn't pay much attention to the handful of Osean soldiers that had accompanied Lawson, tuning out their already hushed conversation. He took off his glasses and wiped them with his coat, returning them to his face a moment later as if being slightly less smudged was going to make his surroundings more interesting or scenic and less of a depressing reminder of everything that had happened. He couldn't admire the ocean because he had no interest in walking that far, and the stars were covered by clouds and light pollution. The only thing he had to look at while he pondered what was to come was the shape of the space elevator in the distance, something that intimidated him after being up close to it.

Before he settled into the silence and got too carried away by his thoughts, a voice broke him out of it. "Not working very hard to fix your mistakes, I see."

He turned to find the voice belonged to Ionela, but compared to her usual tone of voice and the way she'd been yelling at him she sounded almost meek. Not soft, not in any way friendly, but a far cry from being as outwardly harsh as she normally was. The annoyance at his existence was still there, but she just sounded more exhausted than anything, and when he turned to face her she looked nothing like the girl he was used to.

There was still a fire in her eyes, but it was almost drowned out by how bloodshot they were and the dark circles that had formed under her eyes, and the way she walked was slow and stiff. She'd come outside in her pajamas with a pair of sneakers and a sweater thrown on, which told him she probably wasn't sleeping very well. She hadn't come from inside the facility but had evidently been for a walk judging from the direction she'd come from. She crossed her arms and stared at him, shifting her weight onto one foot, staring him down.

Schroeder tried not to scowl, knowing full well that he deserved whatever contempt she had to offer him. She could have very well shot him and he wouldn't have blamed her for it, but it was hard not to be a little put off. How do you talk to someone whose family you harmed? How do you talk to someone that hates you? It used to be that others' opinions of him didn't matter. He didn't let people rile him up or see that they got to him in any way, and normally he didn't care what others had to say. But his regret over how hard he'd pushed Mihaly and the fact he had no excuse behind his actions made him hesitant to say much to her after what had happened.

"I've done all I can for now. They'll let me know when they need me again," Schroeder replied flatly. Ionela nodded and let out a 'hmm' before she turned towards the door, making to walk back inside. At first he was content to go back to his own thoughts, but something made him stop and he stifled a frustrated sigh at himself. He heard the door open behind him, but before she stepped inside he called out, "Ionela. Could you wait a moment, please?"

At first he thought she'd ignored him, hearing the door close behind him. But when he glanced over his shoulder he found her still standing there, back to him with her hand still on the door, but she was still waiting for him. She closed her hand into a fist, holding her head up and turning to face him slightly. In a tone just as flat as the one Schroeder had answered her in, she asked him, "Is something the matter, Dr. Schroeder?"

"Not per se. I just wanted to talk to you," Schroeder told her. He avoided eye contact with her, turning away and looking back out at the space elevator. "You don't have to listen."

"You already have my attention," Ionela said, and he could feel her staring at him. "So I might as well. Unless your plan is to waste my time."

"No. That's not my intention." Schroeder paused, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to find the words. No apology was going to make any of it better. "I wanted to tell you that...your grandfather truly wanted to keep flying, and I took advantage of that. I kept pushing him past his limits, and the truth is that I have no good reason for it. Especially after everything it caused." He paused, trying not to bombard her but not wanting to sound too hesitant either. "You were right. I don't know who or what I did this for, and I didn't do anything but make things worse."

Ionela stayed quiet for a moment, then she asked him, "Are you apologizing to me?"

"No. I know that isn't going to change anything," Schroeder told her. No, he had to swallow his pride in other ways. To think someone of his skill, intelligence, even schooling had been lectured by a child, and rightfully so. "I wanted to thank you. You had every right to shoot me, but you spared me, and now I have a chance to fix my mistakes."

"I didn't do it for you. Killing you wouldn't have changed anything," Ionela told him simply, lowering her voice a bit. "And besides that, I'm not sinking to anyone's level. I didn't owe you any mercy, I chose to show it."

"I know. It took a great deal of strength to spare me, and anyone else in that room for that matter. Your grandfather would have been proud of the courage you showed," Schroeder said, though he remained clinical and emotionless with his delivery, which he was sure made the praise fall flat. The truth was that he wasn't cut out to play the fatherly type of person. He thought himself a decent mentor, at least as far as his assistants were concerned, but Ionela had Mihaly and he wanted no part in their family and he was certain they didn't want him either. "I want to right my wrongs, and if I'm able I want to repay your grandfather. I'm not going to make you regret your mercy."

For a minute there was nothing but silence. He wondered if she had up and left mid sentence and he didn't know it, but after a while he heard her suck in a sharp breath. "Is that all, Dr. Schroeder, or may I leave?"

Schroeder took a breath, nodding and keeping his eyes fixed ahead. He'd said all he wanted to say and she could take it or leave it, he didn't care either way. "You may. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hold you up."

"Goodnight, Dr. Schroeder," Ionela said simply, though not quite as curt as she could have been, and without another word or waiting for his response she swung the door open and left, letting it shut behind her on its own.

Schroeder let out a sigh, staring up at the space elevator in the distance. He didn't really expect her forgiveness or her friendliness, and she was right that she didn't owe him anything. She didn't owe him mercy, or forgiveness, or even understanding, or the time to hear him out, but while she may not have given him understanding or forgiveness she still showed him mercy and she still gave him her time. After everything he'd done, he thought that that alone, even the bare minimum, was better than he deserved from her. She wasn't completely unlike Mihaly. She was cold and detached on a bad day, but she was still a noble person at her core, just like him. He had to admire that in both of them.

Even if she didn't forgive him, she had still given him a second chance. One that he didn't deserve and one that she, as a child, should not have been in any position to grant. For his own guilty conscience he had to pay that back somehow, even if he was going forward doing what he could to better the world or even his own country, even, to fix the mistakes of his forebears. It wasn't going to be specifically for her, some of it may have been for Mihaly, some other bit for Simon and Massa, but everything else would be in the service of a better future, for whatever generation came after him. Ionela and her sister included.

It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do. The rest he'd leave in the hands of the real heroes.

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0300hrs.

Avril dropped back onto the floor, taking the weight off her legs for a minute as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She was exhausted. Even with the work split between her and Tabloid, doing a job that was up to her standards in such a short amount of time wasn't an easy task. She'd had a heavy workload and a short notice deadline like this before, but that was before she'd spent hours on a battlefield just to hole herself up in a hangar instead of resting. She wasn't going to complain out loud, though, telling herself she only got a two minute break as she reached for one of the water bottles Jaeger had brought by for them.

She set the wrench she was holding down, unscrewing the cap and taking a breath before she took a few gulps of the water. When she set it down she spotted Tabloid glancing her way every so often from where he was working with a concerned look on his face, but even though she was clearly pushing her limits he hadn't started fussing over her yet. Once she capped and set down her water, she paused to catch her breath before she asked him, "How're we looking over there?"

"Well, you're the expert, but I think we're doing alright," Tabloid replied. He stepped back, checking his watch, doing a quick double take at the time as his brain processed it before he blew out a breath and looked back over at her with the same expression he'd had before. "Y'know, I could finish up here if you want to go and get some sleep."

"Uh-uh, not happening. We've still got more work to do and the last thing I need is for you to screw something up," Avril said, resting her arms over her knees. She let out a short chuckle. "C'mon, you may have picked up a few tricks but you're still a pilot. You do the flying, I do the fixing. If anybody needs to go and get some sleep it's you."

"I got sleep before the operation," Tabloid pointed out, dropping his own wrench to the floor and walking over to her. He placed a hand on his hip. "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to start lecturing you like Count lectures Trigger."

"Trigger's a dumbass, I'm just a workaholic," Avril said. She'd be the first to admit that she didn't have much outside of her work and now her friendships with the people she worked with. Before that all she had was that stupid plane she made with her grandfather. She wasn't really good at the whole 'self-care' thing. And now that she had other people counting on her she definitely wasn't going to neglect her work just for a nap. "I've gotta get this finished or else nobody's gonna be flying tomorrow."

"There's more people around to help, y'know," Tabloid said, raising a brow.

"But none of them will give you guys the special treatment I do," Avril said, only half-joking. She got herself to her feet, pushing herself up from her hands and snatching up her wrench along the way before she used her good leg to push her the rest of the way. Tabloid looked ready to help her if she fell but she made it without him. She gave him a small smirk. "I'm doing it for you, y'know. You're all too spoiled to accept anything but the best."

"If we're spoiled it's because you did it," Tabloid said, managing a small laugh of his own. For a moment, she thought he was going to drop the topic, but he turned serious again in an instant. "But seriously, you need to take better care of yourself. Our planes will manage without your magic but I don't think we'd manage so well without...well, you in general."

Avril rolled her eyes at him. "I'm touched."

"You know we rely on you a lot," Tabloid said. He crossed his arms. "Why do you have to be so stubborn about stuff like this?"

"Stubborn about stuff like what?" Avril asked him, glancing over at him as she turned her attention back on the Eagle they were working on.

"Everything, really, but right now I'm talking about your own wellbeing," Tabloid told her. She paused for a moment at that, but didn't say anything, letting him continue even though she probably should have stopped him. Not because he was bothering her but because he was right and she knew it and she didn't want to admit it. "You don't tell people when you're hurting or when you're tired or when you need any kind of help, let alone take care of yourself when you get like that. You just power through everything for the sake of all of us...all the while pretending you don't give a damn."

Avril let out a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension. "You think so?"

"I dunno, maybe. I like to think I know you pretty well by now," Tabloid admitted, lowering his voice a little bit. Now he was the one that sounded nervous. She didn't look over at him, but she heard him take a few steps away, almost back to where he was working. "I remember you telling me you used to look out for your grandfather, maybe more than you looked out for yourself, building that plane and all. You're a really admirable person."

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" Avril asked him, lightly teasing him more than anything.

She heard him let out a sigh, but he didn't sound annoyed with her. "But it's okay to be selfish sometimes," he said softly. "Especially at a time like this. You don't have to push yourself out onto the front lines and you don't have to work yourself to death for other people."

Avril stopped what she was doing, dropping one arm from the bottom of the wing she'd moved under and hanging her head. She had no idea how to respond to that. She couldn't just not work, that wasn't something she did well. If she wasn't working she felt guilty, and if she didn't feel guilty at the moment she'd be beating herself up about it later. No matter how tired she was or how much pain she was in, she was used to just sucking it up. Working was the only way she knew how to help the people around her. She could just tell him that, but she didn't really think she was that good with words.

He didn't say anything else, and Avril almost considered ignoring him and changing the subject, but that would make her feel worse. She blew out a breath through her nose. "You said it yourself, you know me pretty well," she said, trying to sound unbothered by it. "So you should know that just sitting on my ass isn't something I'm very good at."

"I know," Tabloid said simply. "But you have to take better care of yourself."

"Right now I'm more worried about taking care of all of you," Avril said. She went back to work, keeping her hands busy while they talked. From the sounds on the other side of the plane Tabloid had done the same. She went on. "I can't be out there fighting with you but I can make sure you at least stand a chance against those drones."

Tabloid took a moment before he answered. Then he had to go and ask more questions. "Why do you feel so responsible for us?"

"Would you rather I didn't give a shit about you?" Avril asked him with a scoff. "We're friends, right? I'm not allowed to care about the people I'm friends with?"

"No, I just mean that you've taken on so much for our sake. And it didn't start with the LRSSG, it started back in prison of all places," Tabloid said. She couldn't see his face but he sounded like he was on the verge of a nervous, rambling rant. "I was amazed you even started talking to me or Trigger, let alone..." He trailed off for a second, hesitating, then he forced out a laugh and the rest of what he was saying. "Let alone care if any of us live or die."

"It's not like I set out to make friends with you guys, but...it was hard for me not to care once I gave you guys a chance. Now I'm stuck with you," Avril said, trying to keep the conversation as light as it could. Then one particular thought had to go and hit her, and she had to swallow back a pang of grief in her chest and throat. "I might as well look after you, right? Just like I said. I'm doing what I can to give you a chance out there." She felt a bit caught off guard by how quickly she started to feel...bad. She hated feeling like that. Letting out another nervous laugh and lowering her voice some, she added, "I don't want to have to say goodbye to anyone else. And if I do then...I wanna know I did everything I could for them, y'know?"

She heard Tabloid stop working, then his footsteps as he rounded the plane until he was at her side. Avril didn't want to look him in the eyes but she glanced over to catch the look on his face, trying not to pay too much attention to how him looking at her with that kind of tenderness was making her stomach twist in knots. And made the thought of losing him somehow even more overwhelming. Dammit, she cursed herself in her head, wondering when she'd gotten this soft. She knew what she was feeling but she didn't like dwelling on it.

For a minute he just stood there, but once he'd gotten his thoughts together he told her, "Avril, you're not gonna lose me."

Avril inhaled sharply through her nose, though it sounded more like a sniffle than she'd meant for it to. Pointedly she continued her work, not letting herself fall apart. "I know."

"Somehow that's not all that convincing," Tabloid said, but it was without his usual playfulness. No, this was one of the rare moments he didn't cover up his perceptiveness with his usual lightheartedness. "We're not gonna go the same way your dad did. If nothing else I don't think Trigger would let that happen."

"I know that, I just..." Avril said, trying not to snap at him but also trying desperately not to start tearing up either. "That doesn't make me any less worried. And I don't like worrying or feeling powerless about this kinda stuff, so that's why I'm always putting my all into my work. It gives me some extra peace of mind, that's all."

"Avril..." Tabloid said her name in a way she didn't really want him to. Like he was going to break some kind of bad news to her or he pitied her. He put on a small smile. "You should have a little more faith in us."

"I have plenty of faith in you idiots, I'm just giving you a helping hand, that's all," Avril told him, trying to put on her usual confident air, managing a laugh and a smirk. She hoped it would throw him off. Judging from the way his look changed to an almost surprised one, she guessed she did the trick, at least in convincing him she'd bounced back. She looked over at him, pausing her work for just a second, keeping her smirk as she tried to lighten the mood. "If you plan on going out there tomorrow then you're the one that needs sleep. So either beat it and go to bed or shut up and help."

"Damn, you don't really leave me with a whole lot of choices there," Tabloid said with an almost awkward laugh, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He stifled an abrupt yawn. "I don't wanna leave all this work to you."

"Well, I want you to come home alive, not crash and die," Avril said. She took a look around the ship's hangar, one of the ones that wasn't crammed full of aircraft and actually had some space. They'd brought all the damaged planes down here, including the ones in need of some minor fixes like Trigger's plane. So far they'd managed to work their way through all the high priority ones. "We might not be able to knock all of these out, huh?"

"Well, we got most of them. I don't think anyone expected you to put together every last one of our planes," Tabloid told her. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Okay, how about we try a compromise?" Avril asked him, and he crossed his arms and gave her an expectant look. "We finish up here with this one, then we take care of Trigger's plane and call it a night. Shouldn't take us more than an hour, right? Gives us both a chance to get some sleep before the night's over."

"I've operated on less sleep than this, but I'm game," Tabloid said with a shrug and a small smile. "As long as you get some sleep then I don't mind."

Avril swallowed. He talked about how difficult and stubborn she was but the truth was he was just as much of a pain. God, she hated how much she just wanted him to be okay. To eat and rest and take care of himself, and instead he was always looking out for her and the others, making sure they were alright and giving them that stupid grin to try and cheer them up and keep their morale up. She hated compromising with him because she wanted him to go to sleep and let her handle all the hard work here. He was a little shit and he knew it, giving her no other option really. And she couldn't even be mad about it.

She stood there, staring at his back for a moment, fidgeting with the wrench in her hands by lightly tapping it on the side of her leg. In all of her life, she really hadn't been good with feelings. Thinking back on everything, remembering the party where she'd kissed him on the cheek, and the relief she'd felt when he'd landed on the carrier earlier that evening, it was clear why he did this to her. Why he flustered her and why she cared about his wellbeing so much and thought about him so often. His specifically. Every time he smiled at her or every time she thought about it, every time he laughed or she heard his voice or he said her name, it made her heart race. And thinking about him not being there...hurt. Truth be told, she didn't want to be without his company.

Taking a breath, gathering up some courage, she called out to his back in a strangely high, almost nervous kind of way, "Hey, Tabloid?"

"Hmm?" He turned back around, a bit confused, and she hoped her face wasn't flushing.

"Promise me you're not gonna do anything stupid tomorrow," Avril said to him, looking at the ground. "Like, you're not gonna try and be a hero or something like that."

Tabloid seemed to hesitate, but he answered after a moment or two. It felt like an eternity. "I can promise that no matter what happens I'm not planning on dying on you," he said. "Remember, "Stick with Trigger and you'll make it"? Has it failed me yet?"

"No, but I just don't want you to take any risks you don't have to," Avril said. Her father did that and it hadn't gotten him very far. She didn't want Tabloid to go out because he was the same kind of stupid. She'd given up on Trigger flying safely, she definitely was that stupid but she had some crazy luck on her side, but she didn't want Tabloid to let his guard down.

"I'll do my best," he told her, giving her a reassuring smile. "I told you you're not gonna lose me."

"I know." Avril took a few steps forward, her leg not bothering her as much as it had been. Actually, the pain was as somewhat manageable as it had been for a long time. She took a breath and looked up at him. "Can I ask you something?"

Tabloid looked almost worried, but he nodded. "Sure. Shoot."

"It's something...a little selfish and...really, really stupid, but..." Avril didn't like stumbling over her words and beating around the bush like she was, but she had to build up the courage. She took one last step forward, keeping at least a step or two between the two of them but close enough that she could keep her voice low. Taking one more breath, staying as confident as she could, she blurted out, "Could I kiss you?"

Tabloid's cheeks and ears went pink in a matter of seconds. At first she was expecting him to flat out reject her and she was screaming at herself for how utterly stupid and embarrassing the question was, a feeling that was made worse by the grin that broke out across his face. And then he started laughing, clearing his throat and stopping once he noticed the way Avril had looked up at him, shocked and almost a bit annoyed. He had to catch his breath. "You...I never thought in a million years you'd be the one asking me that."

Avril let out a huff, trying to laugh along with him at her own expense but honestly ready for him to just rip her heart out. "Shut up, like you'd have been able to come up with anything better," she argued. "I thought...well, I thought I'd try being cute. Or romantic...something like that. I dunno, I'm new to this stuff."

"It was cute," Tabloid said through a chuckle. Maybe it was the fact she just loved hearing him laugh, but she couldn't help but smile a bit. Mostly in exasperation. He took another breath, trying to keep from laughing. "And all things considered I think it was pretty romantic."

"Well, then are you gonna give me an answer or not?" Avril asked him, admittedly losing her nerve a little. She wasn't the blushing, crushing schoolgirl type or anything so to make her this nervous...man, he'd messed her up. Trying to play it off, she went back to being gruff with him, gesturing over her shoulder with the wrench in her hands and not bothering to hide her mild annoyance. "'Cuz we've still got work to do and I know we're both tired so if all you're gonna do is waste time then –"

"Just shut up and kiss me," Tabloid playfully joked, the smile on his face turning into a smirk as he tilted his head to one side. She stood there, a bit stunned he'd gone for that approach, but she forgot all about it when he closed the distance between them and put a hand on her waist to gently pull her towards him. He took great care not to aggravate her leg by making any harsh movements, actually letting her lift some of that weight off to lean into him, bringing one hand up to gently cradle her face as he leaned in. She dropped the wrench to the floor and that was the last sound her brain processed for a few seconds.

Avril's heart and head were racing, but her anxiety disappeared a second later when his lips met hers. It was gentle and tender, not as aggressive or desperate as fiction made it out to be, and not nearly as disgusting either. She had no idea how soft his lips were or how gentle his hands were, which were probably completely contrasting to her own rough and calloused hands. But if they were he didn't seem to mind when she brought one hand up to his cheek and placed the other against the back of his neck to pull his head down towards her some. The height difference meant she was pretty much relying on him to pull her up and balance, but she tried to make it a little more fair.

She leaned into the kiss, which wasn't exactly magical but it made her feel good regardless. It made her feel amazing, actually. His hands on her cheek and her waist, his lips on hers, the feeling of his hair tickling her face, his thumb lightly running across her cheek...things that she hadn't even thought about before that moment that somehow just made it better. If there was one thing she regretted it was that she hadn't worked up the guts to ask him for a proper kiss sooner.

It had to have only been a couple of seconds, but by the time they both slowly broke the kiss and opened their eyes Avril was almost breathless. And way too flushed to look him in the eyes when he smiled down at her, clearing her throat but not moving away from him. "I guess that answers that question, huh?"

Tabloid let out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it does."

Avril let out a laugh of her own, giving him one last peck on the lips for good measure before she backed away, almost reluctant to step out of his embrace. He could have kept her there all night and she wouldn't have complained, but unfortunately they still had work to do. She sighed, almost a bit disappointed, and looked back up at him. "Alright...whaddya say we finish this up so we can get to bed?"

"No complaints here," Tabloid said, still grinning from ear to ear. Forget the kiss, that smile of his was more than enough to get her heart racing. Again.

She shook her head, trying not to seem as cheerful as she felt. But as they got back to work it felt less like a chore than it had started to, and she noticed some of her exhaustion had become a bit more bearable. She didn't miss the spring in Tabloid's step as they carried on either, which also made her feel pretty good inside. It had been a long night – actually it had been a long year – but she'd found one hell of a way to make it better. Between her company and the kiss and their work, she actually felt optimistic.

God, I've gotten soft.

|...|...|...|

0400hrs.

Bandog hadn't really gotten more than a couple of minutes worth of sleep, too on edge and uncomfortable to really let himself drift off. He hadn't really gotten more than an hour or two every night since Tyler Island anyways, and the fact that the war wasn't over didn't do much to help that. But for now he wasn't needed and somehow that made him even more miserable, especially having to leave it up to everyone else to really end this. Knowing how high the stakes were when he was pretty much helpless as well as the fact that the ship could go down at any second if the drones decided to hit it made it a little hard to relax.

He'd ended up crashing on a couch in one of the lounge areas aboard the ship since he hadn't planned on sleeping. After managing a thirty minute nap in the quarters he'd picked out, he carried Sarge out there once he realized he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep. He'd been dozing in and out unbothered since then and now he decided it was time to start waking up, since he was pretty sure everyone would be getting up about this time anyways. That's the way it was when they were actually on solid ground, there wasn't any reason that should change.

After poking around a bit he found that they'd left a couple of things behind, which luckily for him included a coffee pot and the coffee ground he'd need to make it. He didn't know exactly when the ship had been abandoned since he wasn't exactly in the know when it came to news outside the air force, definitely not back at Zapland, and he also didn't know if coffee ground ever went bad but he was willing to take his chances. Once he'd dug out some water and the filters, all he had to do was wait for the coffee to finish brewing, but the smell of fresh, crappy coffee was enough to lift his spirits a bit.

He crossed the room to the cough where Sarge was laying sprawled out, wrapped in a few bandages. Although she probably would have been able to see an actual vet under normal circumstances, Bandog had to make do with his own training in offering her first aid. Even if handlers weren't veterinary geniuses or anything they had to know how to patch up their dogs' minor injuries, and in Sarge's case he had to pull out pieces of glass and other small pieces of shrapnel she'd gotten from the explosions around them. Her paw pads looked shredded and she had a few good cuts and gashes along her legs, side, and muzzle, but Bandog had managed to pick everything out once they'd gotten to the Admiral Andersen and he could properly clean and bandage it all.

Although she wasn't able to walk that well, he thought she took it all like a champ. The price was that she was exhausted and barely had the energy to move all that much. As Bandog approached her she pricked her ears, lifting her head up as he took a seat beside her and gently scratched her under her chin. He would have died if anyone heard him talking to the dog, but he cracked a small smile and risked it anyway. "How're you feeling, girlie?" he asked, and Sarge's only response was to drop her head onto his knee. He blew out a breath. "Yeah, yeah, I know it sucks right now. You've been such a trooper through all this, though."

He reached over to grab her leg, carefully examining the bandage to see if he needed to change or reinforce it. From the looks of things the bleeding had stopped. Obviously it was still tender, though, since she whined in protest and jerked her head some when he'd picked up her leg. She didn't bite or snap at him, though, knowing better than that. When he gave her a quick look, the closest thing to a warning he had to give her, she set her head back down and just licked at his hands until he let her leg go. He didn't want to poke and prod her too much, but she looked alright.

He placed a hand on her head and lightly scratched her between the ears. "Attagirl. I know I've put you through a lot since they stuck you with me," he told her, keeping his voice low. He blew out a breath, thinking back on the last couple of months.

When he'd been sent out to Zapland and McKinsey decided to work him to death he'd stuck him with the first dog to lose its handler. The two had taken to each other right away, and she'd given Bandog a reason to not put a bullet through his head after his life went down the drain. Taking care of something else gave you a good reason to take care of yourself, whether it was a pet or coworker. She wasn't really meant to be the former. No, she was like any other comrade-in-arms to him. She helped keep them alive in Tyler Island, she helped them get into the facility, she even kept everyone's morale up. And he probably took her for granted.

"You're a good girl," he told her, and her ears pricked at the last two words as she looked up at him. He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, you are." He paused for a moment, letting out a sigh before he added, "I would thank you for sticking it out with me but it isn't like you had much of a choice in the matter. But you're a good girl. And a good soldier."

He had absolutely no idea if she understood a word of what he was saying, but she did lick his hand again so he took that as a good sign. Either that or he had gone completely insane and he was looking for some kind of reach to make him feel better. Truth was she probably didn't understand more than a few words, but based on his tone she probably understood she was loved if nothing else. For good measure he leaned over to place a light kiss on the top of her head, something else that would have no doubt made him the laughing stock if anyone found out.

Unfortunately for him, someone did. "Damn, I knew you had a soft side but this is something else."

Bandog recognized the voice in an instant, looking up to find Húxiān standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, crossing her arms and giving him a playful smirk. He hoped he didn't sound too embarrassed when he spoke. "Just how much of that did you hear?"

"Just the last part," Húxiān told him, shrugging slightly. When she noticed him start to fidget with his hands, digging his fingers lightly into Sarge's fur like petting her was somehow going to relax him, her expression softened a bit. "Relax, I haven't gone around spilling all your secrets yet, have I? I can appreciate a guy that loves animals."

"I was just trying to keep her calm, really," Bandog said. It wasn't really a lie, but he didn't like people to think he was constantly talking to his dog or something. Sarge was a good dog and a good soldier but he didn't like feeling like a crazy person, as strangely therapeutic as talking to an animal could be. "I had to check on her injuries, see if I needed to change the bandages out or anything."

Húxiān tilted her head forward slightly, glancing over at Sarge. "How's she doing?"

"Oh, she's fine. Nothing serious, I just want to keep an eye on it until I can get her to an actual vet," Bandog replied, not wanting to worry her or anything. He wasn't lying about that either. He turned his attention fully on Húxiān. "So, you manage to get any sleep?"

"Not any more than usual," Húxiān replied with a sigh, making her way over to the couch. She took a seat at the opposite end, careful to avoid sitting on Sarge's back legs and tail. "Still no word from Long Caster other than 'hang tight' but none of us are really used to sleeping in, you know? Better to be alert and ready when the time comes." She crossed her arms again, leaning back in the seat. "So I went for a walk and smelled coffee, so I thought I'd drop in."

"Well, it should be ready in a minute," Bandog told her, giving her a small smile and glancing over at the pot. He relaxed a little in his seat, absentmindedly running his hands through Sarge's fur while they talked. "Honestly, I didn't think I'd find anything, but I got pretty lucky."

"I think they're trying to find some food in the mess hall so I'd enjoy your coffee while you can," Húxiān said, sounding like she was joking a little bit. "They'll be huntin' it down in no time."

"Hmm. Well, they can have it. It's probably not that great anyways," Bandog said with a short chuckle, getting to his feet. Sarge let out a short groan as he disturbed her nap, dropping her head to the couch while Húxiān consoled her and muttered something in baby talk about how 'mean' he was. He ignored that, smiling only because his back was to her as he crossed the room. "Coffee is always crappy out here but it's better than nothing, right?"

"Amen to that," Húxiān said with a scoff.

Bandog went quiet for a moment as he dug through the cabinets until he found the mugs, which he realized he probably should have checked for before he even bothered making the coffee, but he was lucky he found them. Although he didn't want to interrupt the 'conversation' Húxiān was having with Sarge (that amounted to nothing but baby talk, but he didn't mind that), once he'd poured out the coffee into the mugs he had to ask her, "Do you take anything in it? I could probably find some cream or sugar but I don't know how much I'd trust any kind of dairy that's been lying around for who knows how long..."

He looked back over at her and she just shrugged, smiling and returning her focus back to Sarge as she answered. "Nah, black is fine."

"Ah, a woman after my own heart," Bandog joked, grabbing the mugs and heading back to the couch. When she looked up at him and raised an eyebrow he instantly regretted it. Of all the things he could say that was bold even for him. Was it? He awkwardly cleared his throat, holding the small mug out to her. "Or something like that. Er...here."

"Thanks." Húxiān said, holding back a laugh and giving him an amused look. She always had this certain, nonchalant attitude around him, say nothing about the way her eyes lit up whenever she was in a good mood. He was glad he could make her smile every now and then, though a part of him wished he was funnier. He could probably make her smile all the time. Maybe. She took a sip of the coffee and grimaced, but swallowed the drink anyways, managing a forced laugh as she commented, "Best cup of coffee I've ever had."

"Oh, wonderful." Bandog chuckled, not missing the slight tone of sarcasm. He took a seat and a sip of his own coffee. It really was bad. Like a sour cup of water that just smelled vaguely of coffee, but he'd had far worse before and he was sure Húxiān probably had as well, so he tolerated it. He took another sip, swallowing it and noting that it wasn't even all that hot despite being fresh. "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess."

"Hmm." Húxiān gave a slow nod, but she didn't say anything else back. For a couple of minutes, the two of them just sat in silence over their crappy coffee, but eventually she started the conversation back up. "So, how do you feel about all of this going down?"

Bandog paused, thinking about it for a minute. He felt useless, for one, stuck out here while counting on Trigger and the others to fight for him. He wasn't sure what he felt in regards to them himself, but he sure never would have thought that someone convicted of a murder was going to be the one ending this war. If nothing else, he at least knew that the LRSSG was their best bet out there and he hadn't really thought about them not coming back. At first he thought that 'nothing' was the best answer, but now he wasn't so sure. He took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "I guess I feel a little confident. Maybe proud, even, I don't know," he said. "I think you guys are gonna save the day as always."

"That's mostly Trigger, honestly," Húxiān said dismissively. "We're all just along for the ride."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You wouldn't still be flying if you couldn't pull your own weight," Bandog told her matter-of-factly, and to him it was the most obvious thing in the world. She wouldn't be there if she wasn't a good pilot. "I feel like we've been over this before." He chuckled slightly. "You should have a little more faith in yourself. You're a great pilot."

"I guess so," Húxiān said with a shrug, looking and sounding a bit embarrassed.

"So how do you feel?" Bandog asked her.

"Nervous, I think. But then again I'm kinda trying not to think too much about it," Húxiān said, scraping her nails almost nervously along the coffee mug. She stared down at it before taking a sip and forcing it down. "I'm trying not to be too optimistic since things never wanna go as planned, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little bit excited. We have a real chance at winning this and going home."

"Yeah, I get that," Bandog said, shifting a bit in his seat. He glanced over at her, then down at Sarge while he spoke. "You got any big plans once everything's said and done?"

"Not really. I ain't got a family or anything waiting for me. My only family's been those morons out there for years now," Húxiān said with a smirk, nodding out towards the door as a general, vague gesture since she had no idea where any of her wingmen actually were. "Now Trigger and Count and Tabloid are in the mix, to name a few. So I think I'll just stick around until everyone gets sick of me, maybe find some kinda life along the way, take a vacation...fun stuff like that." She smiled, not sounding like she was being insincere about it. She looked over at him next. "What about you? You gonna re-enlist?"

Bandog tensed a bit, letting out a heavy sigh. "I might as well. There wasn't anything better going on in my life before the military and now..." He looked down at Sarge again, giving her a stiff pat on the head that was meant to be funny over affectionate. "I don't think I'd leave if I couldn't take Sarge with me, and she's still got a lot of work she could do. I do too, really. So there isn't any point in leaving."

"Ah." Húxiān went quiet for a moment. Almost playfully, though in a bit of a half-hearted manner, she added, "I guess that's too bad, then."

"Huh?" Bandog blinked, looking over at her, more than a little confused. "What does that mean?"

"Well...I was thinking after all this was over and we got back to the states we could go out for some drinks. A beer or an actually good cup of coffee. Or some kinda meal or...somethin'." Húxiān brought it up so casually that Bandog thought his head was playing tricks on him. He noticed the fact she wasn't looking directly at him and the slight blush on her cheeks, but the way she spoke and acted was...like she was completely calm and confident. He wasn't easily shaken but even he'd be a mess. She shrugged. "But I don't think the higher-ups would be a big fan of that."

Bandog swallowed. She didn't sound all that serious when she'd said that last part. He'd be lying if he said he cared that much about whatever stupid rules they'd put in place. He knew they were there for a reason, but it wasn't like she was his superior, he just ended up gravitating towards the pilots all the time and liked to be in the know. It wasn't any worse than some of the other fraternization he'd seen in his time. "I mean...depends on how serious you are."

"Well, I'm not that serious about the higher-ups. If I gave a shit about them and what they thought then, uh...it's kinda complicated, but I don't think I'd be here," Húxiān admitted. She let out a breathy laugh, looking over at him with the softest look on her face he'd ever seen. "But I meant it about going out. You're...an interesting guy, kinda cute, sweet but serious. I've been thinking about it for months now."

"I don't know who you're thinking about but I don't think it's me," Bandog said, making a nervous attempt at a deadpan joke to ease how uncomfortable he was feeling. Not because she'd crossed any boundaries or because he didn't want to spend more time with her, but because he did want to be around her. In fact, he'd been thinking about working up the balls to ask her out himself but she beat him to the punch. Part of her charm was that boldness of hers. He let out a breathy laugh of his own. "Man, you really threw me off."

"What, did you want some kind of song and dance or somethin'?" Húxiān asked him with a laugh.

"No, nothing flashy. Actually something pretty much like this. Simple, to the point, just not over nasty coffee. Maybe after you'd come back victorious and were in a good mood," Bandog said, though he knew that no matter how many times he played it out in his head he probably wouldn't have been able to pull it off. He'd have backed out in an instant. He wasn't really good at the whole relationship thing, friendship or otherwise. "Y'know, the usual kind of sappy stuff."

Húxiān laughed again, speaking through a grin. "Well I'm in a pretty good mood right now, so what do you say?"

"I'd say you're a brave and beautiful woman and nothing would make me happier," Bandog replied. He smirked, looking over at her. "How was that? Romantic enough for me to save face a little?"

"Incredible," Húxiān said, rolling her eyes. "So, at the end of the war, back in Osea, we track down a place with good drinks. And food. Sound like a plan?"

Bandog blew out through his nose in amusement. "Sounds perfect," he said. "So stay safe or I'm gonna think you're just trying to get out of it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Húxiān said, lazily holding out her mug. He almost rolled his eyes like she'd done to him, but he settled on breaking out in a grin and reaching out to clink his mug against hers.

If nothing else, at least there was something else to look forward to. That made him feel a little better.

|...|...|...|

0615hrs.

"I'm not ready for any of this," Naomi said as she paced in a small circle, checking the time here and there. She'd gone back down to the sick bay to spend the early hours with her father. Or she had once she realized he was awake and as restless as anyone else, though she'd tried to tell him to rest and he refused. Not long after she'd been down there Jaeger told her that Long Caster said they only had a short amount of time to prepare and she should be ready for a briefing, and as the morning dragged on she just got even more nervous.

Her father adjusted himself against the pillows he'd been given, staring at her with only one eye half open. "Sit down," he told her. "You're gonna wear yourself out before the battle even starts."

"Yeah, I doubt that," Naomi replied with a light laugh, trying to ease some of her own anxiety. She was excited but also terrified, stuck between wanting to believe this was going to be it and knowing that nothing had ever gone according to plan for them. She couldn't relax at all. "If I screw this up then it's over. That's it. Nothing we did is gonna mean anything if we can't do this."

"You'll be fine. You've always pulled through before," her father said, like it was something that should have been obvious. "Just do what you always do and you'll all be okay."

Naomi paused, glancing over at him. She was used to everyone around her having faith in her, but her own confidence liked to waver. She'd started out far more self assured, and she was fine in the air but on the ground she got in a habit of overthinking things. "How do you guys all just believe in me like that?"

"When you think about all the things they've seen you do and survive, it makes a lot more sense. Even if I didn't already have faith in you that'd make me a believer for sure," he told her, still slurring his words and straining slightly but sounding a lot better than he had earlier that night. He took as deep a breath as he could manage, slowly letting it out and trying not to grimace in pain. In fact, he put on a bit of a smile. "As for me, it's because I'm your father. Even if I thought you were batshit insane and didn't stand a chance in hell logically I'd still be confident you'd come out of it. You're good at pulling off the impossible."

"Guess it runs in the family or something," Naomi said, looking away from him. She wasn't an idiot, especially not after being let in on the truth he kept from her, and she really wanted a word with the rest of her family when she got a chance. She'd always looked up to them but knowing that her father and brother were supposed to be pretty great pilots in their own right made her feel...small. Sure, she'd done a lot of stuff but had she done enough? Was she doing enough? Not just for her wingmen or everyone out there caught up in the world but for her family as well. "What if it's not enough, though? I can be lucky or skilled or talented or whatever you want to call it, but what if? I'm not you. Or Roland. Or anyone else. What if I screw this up?"

"You're not gonna screw it up. And if you do...look, I don't even know," her father replied, sounding a little miffed she was pushing it. She didn't like to doubt herself often, but when stuff like this was going on and she was in private she didn't care that much. He went on. "But what I do know is that you're a perfectly good pilot without comparing yourself to any of us. You've done more good than I ever did, and trust me you and your brother are on equal footing. You're doing more than enough."

"I'm just scared," Naomi admitted, lowering her voice a bit and glancing at the door, knowing they were alone though. She finally took a seat, leaning over and clasping her hands together, pressing them to her head like she was praying. "It really, really all comes down to what happens out there today. There's a lot riding on this..."

"And you'll save the day like always," he told her, letting out a light chuckle. "I've told you over and over by now, you've tried as hard as you could to do everything you could. You're gonna be fine." He paused, and after a few seconds of silence he broke it. "I've also told you I'm proud of you before, but...I really mean it when I say it, Naomi. I don't know if you're ever going to understand just how much. You've grown into an amazing leader and pilot and every time I think I couldn't be any prouder you go and show yourself up."

Naomi lifted her head, giving him a small and grateful smile, feeling her eyes starting to tear up. His timing with stuff like that was always perfect. "Thanks, Dad." She straightened up. "I'm trying not to let you down."

"You've done a damn good job avoiding that so far," he told her. "Anyways, you should listen to your dad. When it comes to screw ups I think I'm the expert. That's probably one thing you're not gonna beat me at."

"I know you did some pretty messed up things, but it's hard for me to see you as a screw up," Naomi told him, not really thinking he was too hard on himself but just...not liking him holding on to every mistake he made. Like she was really one to talk when it came to that, as evident by her constantly stressing over doing the right thing ever since the first time she fought at the Lighthouse. She sighed. "You're always just gonna be my Dad to me. A badass ex-fighter pilot that constantly looked out for his family and put up with me as a kid...trust me, I know I was a little shit."

He laughed, which inevitably led to him having to stifle what looked like a pretty painful cough. "Yeah, yeah, but you're my little shit, kiddo."

"Damn, you didn't have to agree with me," Naomi said, managing to let out a laugh. He just grinned at her and didn't say anything in his defense. Before either of them could say anything else on the matter, though, there was a heavy knock at the door that drew both of their attention to it. Still aware she was smiling a bit, getting herself together, she glanced at her father before looking over at the door and calling out, "Yeah, come in."

The door opened and instead of any of the medics Naomi had expected, Georg was the one that pushed the door open. He stumbled a bit, keeping most of his weight on one leg while the other one had a splint on it. From the looks of things, he'd hobbled his way over there practically on one leg, using the wall to keep himself upright. That was Naomi's best guess anyways, especially judging from the way he was practically keeping a death grip on the door as he carefully stepped into the room. He looked pale and his hair was disheveled, making him look as though he'd been rushed awake.

When her father saw who it was, he moved to sit up on his own, straining from his own injuries. Naomi stood up, ready to help him but also opening up the seat for Georg. She helped her father adjust the pillows behind him to make it easier for him to sit up, and before he leaned back against them he greeted his new visitor. "Hey, good to see you, Georg. How are you holding up?"

"Uh...well, I'd be lying if I said I'm doing good," Georg admitted with an out of breath laugh, looking like he was sweating a bit from the effort. He seemed content to endure it, though, forcing a weak smile. "I actually came to check in on you. But I didn't mean to intrude on your time with your daughter."

"No, no, don't worry about it. We weren't talking about anything important," Naomi said to him, giving him a reassuring smile and taking a step forward and gesturing to the empty chair. "You can sit down if you need to. You don't really look so good."

"Oh, I'm fine, really. This isn't the first time I've broken my leg...I did a lot of stupid things growing up," Georg told her, trying for another laugh to ease the tension. He sucked in a breath, though, his expression faltering. "Then again, it wasn't ever this bad." He stumbled forward, struggling to balance, but when Naomi tried to help him he waved her off. He made it to the chair and almost threw himself down, stretching his leg out and letting out a sigh. "The guys that fixed me up told me to stay in bed and I'm kind of starting to see why now."

"And you didn't listen to 'em?" her father asked him, and he blew out through his nose when Georg sheepishly nodded. "Honestly, why does that not surprise me? You like overachieving, don't you?"

"I think it's the least I can do for the people that saved my life," Georg told him. He leaned back in his seat, looking down at his hands. "It's my fault you had to run out there like that. I thought for sure you'd be dead, but when they said you made it I was so relieved. I don't think I would have been able to forgive myself for getting you killed."

"I'd have never forgiven myself if I had just left you to die," her father retorted. Naomi looked between the two of them, keeping out of the discussion. "You gotta stop putting yourself in danger like that. I told you, you're not gonna be able to atone if you're dead."

"I understand." Georg was quiet for a minute or two, then he cleared his throat and straightened up. "Actually...you know, on the subject of atonement, there's something that I wanted to tell you. It's why I came here, actually, so I'll cut right to the chase. Might be a little more interesting than small talk." He looked up at Naomi, forcing a small smile. "In fact, I'm sure it will be to you, Major."

Naomi crossed her arms, glancing over at her dad who just gave her an equally confused look. She looked down at him. "Is something wrong?"

"That's debatable. It's...something more of a confession, I suppose. All of it is...complicated," Georg told her. He began to fidget with his hands, avoiding eye contact again. He took a deep breath, swearing under his breath in Belkan before he eventually continued. "I'm the one responsible for Harling's death." The comment caught Naomi off guard, leaving her at a loss for what to say, and when he saw whatever reaction she had she guessed her shock was written all over her face. He hesitated, giving her an opening, but then she continued, "You see it was my technology that allowed us to disguise Erusean aircraft as Osean fighters by faking IFF signatures. To further that, I led the project that dealt with the drones we used. I was tasked with deploying the aircraft to kill Harling to frame the death on Osea, and...the plan worked."

Naomi stared at him. "You...why...?"

"I had already made up my mind to confess this sooner or later. Because the same pilot that took the fall for actions I was behind turned around and saved my life, but more importantly you saved the life of my family," Georg explained to her, continuing carefully. "Then your father went and risked his life to save me and to reach out to me on the boat before that. I had thought of him as nothing more than a terrorist, but he'd proved me wrong." He took a deep breath. "I came here to check on things, but I wanted to come clean to him before I lost the chance...to apologize and thank him. I knew I owed him something, if nothing else. An apology for what happened. Making him risk his life to help the person that turned his daughter into a scapegoat."

"Georg..." her father was the first one to say anything, while Naomi still tried to process it all. Georg had a habit of popping in and blurting things out, apparently.

"I don't expect either of you to forgive me. But I wanted you both to know what I did, to know that I never meant any harm to either of you directly," Georg said. He looked over at Naomi's father. "I don't think I deserved everything you did for me. Anything either of you have done for me. I'm no better than a war criminal myself, and if not for you two I'd be just another dead deserter. And my wife and children would have been among the civilian casualties." He looked away again. "I don't expect this to absolve me of my sins, but...I'm sorry. And I'm also very grateful to you both."

Naomi didn't answer him, leaning back and sitting on the bed at her father's feet, taking the information in. It was a lot to process, especially with everything else on her mind. Her father must have noticed, since he cautiously asked her, "Naomi? Are you alright?"

She took a few seconds, then looked up at Georg, giving him her best reassuring smile. "It's fine, Georg, you don't have to apologize. Not to me, anyways," she said, and she tried to mean it. She already knew it wasn't her fault, none of it was, but hearing something like that still wasn't easy. But she was starting to get over it. Actually, she was almost there already. "I don't really know you that well, but you're not a bad guy. The guy behind all this is dead now. I'm not gonna make you pay for following orders."

"I'm not either. We've both done things we aren't proud of for the sake of our families," her father told him, relaxing a little and closing his eyes. "And you didn't make me risk my life for you, I did what I did for you because you're our ally and you didn't ask to be in this situation either. We're all stuck here in the same boat. Getting mad and turning on each other isn't going to do us any good."

"You're both very understanding people. Not what I would have expected from either one of you," Georg said, letting out another soft laugh. He sounded almost relieved. "I'm not sure if that's a good quality or a fatal flaw."

"Eh. Could be both," her father said with a shrug, and the three of them all managed matching smiles. It wasn't really the best situation for any of them, but they had to make the most of it. They couldn't really do anything about it except make the best of their situation, and Georg wasn't their enemy.

Once a silence started to settle in, it was promptly broken by the overhead announcement system. "All coalition pilots report to the ready room for operation briefing."

Naomi glanced up, out at the hall, taking a deep breath. Her nerves from before returned in an instant, her stomach twisting in knots, having forgotten all about it just for a few minutes. "Alright...guess that's my cue, then."

"Go on. Knock 'em dead, send a missile with my regards, you know the drill," her father told her, nodding towards the door. "Show 'em how a real pilot flies."

"Good luck, Major," Georg told her, giving her a smile. "And thank you. Again. For everything."

Naomi gave them both a smile and brought her fingers to her forehead to form a quick two finger salute before she left the room. Although she felt nervous, she didn't feel quite as panicky as she thought she was going to. This was the moment they'd been waiting for this entire time and they finally had it. They could end the war and go home and put all of this behind them, finally rest and call it a day and fly in clear blue skies again. She was nervous but she was a little excited but knew better than to get her hopes up, no matter what happened.

She made her way down the halls again, knowing exactly where to go this time. The few people she passed gave her smiles and nods in greeting which she returned, but she kept a brisk pace, trying to get there as fast as she was able to without running. If it was an emergency there would have been alarms, so she was trying not to let her anxiety or excitement get the better of her. There wasn't any reason to go bolting down the halls. Besides, she was pretty sure that if she just ran off she was going to trip straight over the door sills and break her nose or something.

Just as she made it to the door that exited sick bay, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her and turned to find the Princess having no such qualms about running, awkwardly switching between jogging and hopping down the hall. "Major! Major Foulke, wait!"

Naomi stared back at her, glancing over her shoulder before she turned away from the exit, walking back the way she came to meet her half way. The girl stopped when they finally reached one another, pausing to catch her breath, seeming a bit unsteady while Naomi just looked at her. "Hey, you alright there, Princess? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. I just...Apologies, hang on..." the Princess held a hand to a stitch in her side, forcing herself to straighten up. She took one more deep breath before she started talking again, still sounding out of breath. "I heard them call everyone for a briefing, and since I hadn't been able to see you last night I really wanted to see you before you all took off. You know, to wish you luck. Though I suppose you won't really need it."

"Actually we need all the luck we can get," Naomi said, letting out an awkward laugh. She looked the Princess over. She still had Tailor's jacket, wearing it tied around her waist, but the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing were covered in specks of dirt and dried blood, and her once almost porcelain skin was covered in scratches and bruises. Most of them along her face. But she still stood there smiling. She really had been out there fighting, just like the rest of them, or at least taking a beating for their cause. Naomi had barely even given her safety a second thought, and she deserved a lot more after everything she did. "Hey, uh...I heard you were pretty brave out there. Going up the space elevator by yourself and taking down those markers...I don't think we could have done it without you."

"Oh. That...I don't know why I did it, really, I kinda just did the first thing that popped in my head," the Princess admitted sheepishly, blushing a bit. She lowered her voice a bit. "I'm not any hero or anything. I was kind of useless fighting, so...it was the least that I could do for you all. I think you're the brave one. Taking on the Arsenal Bird and going back out to face the drones...there's no way I could do that."

"Well, sure you couldn't, you're not a fighter pilot. But you don't have to downplay what you did," Naomi said, never thinking she'd have ever felt the need to defend praising the Princess. But if Georg wasn't really their enemy then neither was she, really. And she'd done so much to earn respect and fix things, or as much as she was able to since joining them. Naomi had to admire her at least a little for what she did during the battle. "You don't have to be directly fighting to be a hero. The fact you did what you did saved a lot of people."

"But...your father got hurt. A bunch of other people were killed, too," the Princess said, lowering her voice again.

"That was always gonna be unavoidable. My father, Georg, Avril, Bandog, everyone else...they're all fine. And trust me, you saved more people than were harmed," Naomi told her. She wasn't quite sure the two of them were at any kind of hand holding, heartfelt pep talk stage yet, but she'd never really been like that with her own sister. However, there was one thing she did do with her siblings and parents during talks like these, when whoever was talking needed the other's attention. She placed her hands on the Princess' shoulders, lightly squeezing them. "Hey, c'mon. You helped us take down that Arsenal Bird, plain and simple. We weren't ever going to get out of it unscathed. I know that I've given you a hard time, but...I mean it when I say that without your help we would have lost more people. You saved a lot more people than just the ones out there fighting."

The Princess' eyes watered a bit, but she reached up and wiped her tears away and nodded. Naomi dropped her hands from the girl's shoulders, and the Princess let out a breathy laugh while she wiped her tears away. "I never wanted it to come to any of this. I always wanted to do what I felt was right, but..."

"Well, this time I think you did a pretty good job," Naomi said. She shifted on her feet a bit, glancing towards the door. "Look, I hate to do this, but..."

"Of course, you need to go," the Princess said, sniffling a little but recovering from the short lived tears. "Go on, please, don't let me hold you up. Actually, wait...is it okay if I come with you?" She put on a small smile, looking over her shoulder. "Technically they told me to rest, but...Henri's been passed out asleep so it's not like anyone's here to drag me back."

"I'm not your mother. I won't say anything if you don't," Naomi said, already turning slightly. "C'mon, let's go."

Naomi didn't wait another second before she set off again, not waiting for the Princess to follow her. But she didn't have to, since she could hear her hurrying to fall in step behind her. She didn't look back at her, but it sounded like she was having a bit of a hard time keeping up with Naomi's pace down the hall, but she didn't slow down for her sake. Once they left the sick bay, they climbed up the steep stairs that led them to the right deck, and the walk was pretty much easy from there. They spent the walk in silence, and Naomi didn't mind it for a change.

The two of them made it down the halls and to the ready room with no problem, finding everyone there already. Even a handful of those that were unable to fly were sitting there, notably all of Cyclops and Mage Squadrons even though most of them were out of commission. The ones that weren't able to fly kept out of everyone's way, sitting beside Bandog, while Strider Squadron sat right up front with Clown and Tailor. Tabloid and Avril were both absent, though, which made Naomi feel a bit better about showing up a little later than the rest of them.

Things seemed quiet but the atmosphere was tense, and Naomi noticed a laptop had been set up on a nearby table, displaying a more or less crisp video call of a well lit room. In the background, Long Caster, Major Grimm, and a man in glasses and a lab coat were all moving around, talking and going over some papers. Set up behind that was the large, standard screen the military installed in just about every place they could, the data synced as well as it could be and displaying the 3D map of the Lighthouse and the surrounding bay and city.

As the two stepped inside, Jaeger was the first one to notice them. He was sitting leaned against the arm of one of the heavy chairs in the room instead of sitting in it, facing across the aisle and talking with the other pilots. He must have seen them out of the corner of his eye, since he looked towards them and Count, then Tailor, and everyone else followed suit. Maybe it had to do with their conversation earlier that night, but Count was the first one that Naomi was looking for and when he looked at her she felt like she could have smiled for no reason at all. She felt all warm and fuzzy and it made her feel even more nervous and excited but in a good way. She tried to keep it together, though, especially since Jaeger was the first one to actually greet the two of them.

Jaeger glanced between Naomi and the Princess, his expression softening to a soft and tired smile like usual. "Hey, we were wondering when you were gonna show up. I didn't know you were bringing the Princess with you."

"I ran into her on the way over. She wanted to come and see everyone off," Naomi answered, giving the Princess a pat on the back. It was obviously unexpected, since the girl was knocked off balance a bit and had to take a step forward to catch herself. Naomi immediately gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm just still dealing with some problems from the concussion," the Princess said, smiling and laughing it off. She wasn't trying to make her feel bad but knowing that she'd actually suffered from that missile going off made Naomi cringe. It should have been expected considering how close she was to getting hit by the missile herself, and suddenly her struggling to balance made a lot more sense. She brushed it off. "But I'm fine, really. I just wanted to wish you all luck today."

Tailor, who had gotten to his feet, took a few steps towards her. Judging from his lack of a reaction to the concussion thing, Naomi guessed he had probably dropped by the sick bay to check on her earlier in the night. He raised his voice a little from where he was, not to the point he was shouting but so he could be heard clearer than he normally would have. "I thought you were told to get some rest. Should you really be out and about like this?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing compared to what you're all going through," the Princess protested, and she sounded completely genuine. If it was forced there was very little to indicate that.

He gave her an almost exasperated look, gesturing to the empty seat next to his. "At least sit down. Please?"

While the Princess complied, excusing herself from Naomi and Jaeger and making her way over to her seat, Naomi watched her go. Then she nodded to the computer and looked back at Jaeger. "So how are things looking? Have we run out of time?"

"Not quite. We're waiting for Tabloid, but hopefully we'll be able to get up in the air in time," Jaeger told her, crossing his arms. He let out a sigh. "We'll be cutting it a little close, but we'll get in the air before long." His expression softened even further if that was possible, the smile fading a little. "I'm sorry we've left you out of the loop, but I figured you needed your rest. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Just so long as we get this over with, I'm good," Naomi replied. She bit the inside of her cheek, shifting on her feet. "I think I'm the one that should be apologizing. I'm sorry I completely bailed on you guys last night. It's my job to step up and run things and I haven't really done that since we landed yesterday."

"Don't even worry about it, Trigger. I don't mind taking care of things. Family's more important and so is rest," Jaeger told her. He gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder. "You're our good luck charm, after all. We need you at the top of your game."

Naomi chuckled slightly, choosing not to tell him about the long and restless night she'd had. She'd be ready in the air when it came down to it, that's all that mattered. "Thank you, Jaeger. For everything," she said. "I probably should've said it before now, but...you've helped me a ton since I was assigned to Strider Squadron. I know I haven't done the best job of showing it."

Jaeger looked a little surprised, but he gave her his usual smile once what she said sunk in. "Don't even worry about it, Trigger. I just did what I had to do for you. Sometimes it didn't feel like much, but...well, I should thank you."

Naomi returned the smile, but didn't know what else to say, so she just made a fist and held it up for him. He glanced down, raising an eyebrow, but eventually he made his own fist and gave her a fist bump. She could feel her smile grow to a grin and she laughed a little before she made her way over towards the seats, taking the seat between Count and Clown that the two of them had likely left open for her while Jaeger took the seat on the end beside Húxiān.

Sitting on the very end of the row, leaving a few seats between them and the Princess and Clown and Tailor, Wit and Seymour were sitting quietly keeping to themselves. So just about everyone really was there, keeping quiet and trying not to look like they were all coming out of their skin from nerves and excitement. No more than maybe five minutes went by before Tabloid finally arrived, though Avril was nowhere to be seen. Although he looked like he was among those that hadn't slept much or very well, he was wearing the same smile he always did as soon as everyone took notice of him. Actually Naomi could have sworn there was something a bit different about his smile, but she couldn't put her finger on what.

Both Naomi and Jaeger got to their feet as he reached them, and he quickly apologized for his tardiness. "Sorry, I had a bit of a late start. I was up with Avril in the hangars for most of the night."

"How's everything looking?" Naomi asked him, knowing they'd need everyone they could get.

"Not everyone is gonna be able to fly, but we did what we could. Your plane and all of Strider Squadron is good to fly, and we did some minor maintenance touchups to the others," Tabloid explained to her, stifling a yawn. "We did what we were able to do, though."

"As long as at least some of us can get in the air, especially Trigger, we've got a chance," Jaeger said. He looked at Naomi. "We might have to rearrange the squadrons a little bit if the rest of Cyclops still isn't able to fly."

"Are you alright flying in Faun's place in Golem Squadron?" Naomi asked Tabloid, noting who was down in which squadrons. Mage was down to Clown and Tailor, so the easiest thing to do would be to put him in with Golem since they were only down one pilot.

Tabloid nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sounds good."

"Are you gonna be good to fly?" Naomi asked him, noticing just how tired he looked. Like she was really in any kind of position to get onto him for flying when his head and body were running on fumes.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about it," Tabloid said with a smile. "Just trying to wake up a little more. I'm not gonna slow us down, I swear."

"Alright...how about Avril? Is she doing okay?" Naomi asked, noting her absence. Usually she sat in on the briefings. But something told her there wasn't anything that serious wrong. "She didn't go and work herself to death did she?"

"No, not yet. I told her to beat it and get some rest, so she's sleeping in," Tabloid said, letting out a breathy laugh. "Knowing her she'll be up any minute now, probably cussing herself out for oversleeping."

"Well, she's earned a bit of extra rest. She'll get over it," Jaeger said with a small smile. He nodded towards the seats, turning towards the laptop and screen. "Go ahead and take a seat, Tabloid. Trigger, how about we get this briefing started?" Naomi and Tabloid both reacted, Tabloid taking a seat by Count while Naomi followed Jaeger. He reached the table, unmuting the computer and announcing to their allies back on land, "Alright, Long Caster, Dr. Schroeder, everyone's here. We're ready for the briefing."

While Jaeger moved the video call onto the main screen, resizing it so it didn't obscure any of the map, Long Caster took a seat in front of his own computer. "Ah, perfect. Everyone listen up!" All eyes were on him. "Now, as you all know our last operation was a success. All Arsenal Birds our down and the Erusean Radicals have surrendered, however they aren't completely eliminated. They deployed those two drones, the ADF-11 Ravens, and they've royally screwed things up for us."

"The logical solution is to shoot them down, but it's not going to be quite that simple," Dr. Schroeder, the man in the lab coat, said as he leaned over Long Caster's shoulder from behind so they could see his face. He typed something into the computer they were forced to share, and the screen displayed the blueprints of the Raven along with photographs of the individual drones. Codenamed Hugin and Munin. The scientist continued. "You see, in roughly an hour or so the space elevator will power up again and the drones will no doubt try and use its transmitting capabilities to send the data they possess to drone manufacturing plants across the continents. They're trying to strengthen their numbers. Think of it as a survival instinct."

Naomi and the others watched as the screen zoomed out, displaying the continent as various red dotted lines spread out over it, painting the whole thing in red. Long Caster was the one that added, "What's worse is that their data contains a depth of war experience, and they're capable of growing and adapting like a normal pilot. Newer aircraft produced from this data will be more tactically advanced." The screen zoomed back in on the elevator, displaying the drones. "And if that's the case..."

"Then this war is never gonna end," Naomi filled in the blanks for him and sighed, looking at the screen in front of her. She knew it was gonna be bad if they couldn't end it here, but she thought the whole 'end of the world' thing was an exaggeration. Evidently not. Long Caster and everyone else stared at her, but she didn't let them see how worried she was as she turned to face her wingmen. "We need to take down those two drones, no matter what it takes. We've got everything to lose if we screw up here."

Everyone stayed quiet, but she didn't see any hesitation. Jaeger was the first to speak up. "You're right, Trigger. We don't really have much of a choice," he said. "For all our talk about going home, there won't be a home to go back to if we don't fight here. We'll do this so we have something to return to."

"What about aircraft?" Knocker asked.

"We have the Scrap Queen on our side, remember?" Naomi replied, smiling a bit. "She took care of it all. We aren't back up to full strength, but I'm sure she did everything she could for all of us to give us the advantage."

"Besides that, we have all of Skoll and Salamander Squadrons taking off from the city shortly," Long Caster said. "The numbers aren't ideal, but I'm confident in everyone's abilities. I'm not going to lie, it won't be easy, but I have faith in you all."

"We've overcome worse before, right?" Naomi asked them. "One way or another, this is our final mission."

"We're not going down here," Wit put in, eyes fixed on the blueprints displayed on the screen. "We're not just doing this for the future of our new country, we're doing this for the future of the world."

"Everyone'll have a chance at a new start after this," Seymour said. The Princess looked at the two of them, though she looked like she was having a hard time figuring out what Seymour had said. But based on her expression she knew they weren't talking about Erusea when Wit brought up their 'new country'. That wasn't Naomi's concern, though.

"We're all with you, Trigger," Count put in, and everyone else voiced their own agreement.

"Then let's get going everyone!" Naomi said, raising her voice. Might as well get them fired up. They'd be winning this war or they'd go down trying. "We've got a goddamn war to end!"

Everyone got up and most of them raced out, but Naomi stayed behind with Jaeger and Count to finish everything up while Húxiān said goodbye to Bandog and Tailor said his own goodbye to the Princess before he and Clown followed Tabloid and Golem Squadron up to the hangar. The two Sol Squadron fighters weren't far behind them. Once it was down to Strider Squadron and the Princess and Bandog, Long Caster got ready to log off. "I'll talk to you all again once we're back in the air. Good luck."

"Right. Talk to you then," Jaeger said, and with that he ended the video call and powered everything off.

Count approached the two of them, arms crossed as he stared at the open door to the ready room. He spoke up once Sol Squadron left and Jaeger had ended their call with Long Caster, and he sounded less than thrilled. "Can you believe those guys? I guarantee they're gonna keep talking big once the war's over, too..."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter much anymore. Whatever we think about them, they're on our side. Big ambitions or not," Jaeger said distractedly, but once he was done with the computers he turned around, standing between Naomi and Count. He sighed. "Still...once all of this is over, we're gonna need something or someone to guide us. Someone to give the world a little hope."

Naomi was aware that her wingmen were staring at her, including the Princess who had wandered their way and Húxiān who was waiting on the rest of them. Judging from the way they said it and the fact they were all looking at her, she had a pretty uncomfortable feeling they were getting at something. She shook it off, not wanting even more reasons to be worried about the upcoming battle.

She kept the smile on her face, making any kind of effort she could not to seem rattled, heading towards the door. "Let's go, guys. It's time to finish this."