Chapter Twenty-Five: The Calm Before
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Sierraplata, Erusea.
September 2nd, 2019.
1012hrs.
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The flight to the mountain range that morning had been quiet to the point that it actually frustrated Naomi. She didn't like the quiet and yet none of her wingmen seemed interested in a conversation, at least not with her. Count had been upset ever since the briefing the day before and had been unusually quiet, Lanza seemed bored without Skald to talk to, and Jaeger seemed content not to say anything to any of them. The only good thing to come from the quiet, in Naomi's opinion, was that it gave her time to think about their strategy and who she might have doing what. Unfortunately, she wasn't allowed to bring her shiny new pulse lasers along on the mission, which is why Avril had made some adjustments to allow them to carry more missiles than they normally would be able to. All of that was perfectly fine, but the pulse lasers were a lot more fun to use and did more destruction. But she couldn't really complain.
As the four of them made their approach, a few AA guns showed up on their HUD and there were a few blips on the radar marking where the targets were. Far overhead and trailing slightly behind them, a B-2 Spirit bomber was waiting for them to reach the first silo and send the coordinates to them. So with the added pressure of being without Wiseman and having to keep an eye on everyone else without any help, she also had to make sure that the bombers stayed in the air and they managed to get all of the silos. Taking a deep breath and making sure to keep her voice steady, she radioed Long Caster, "Alright, Long Caster. This is Strider 1. We're entering the AO now, so just before we get started is there anything we should know?"
There was the sound of what Naomi guessed to be Long Caster chewing on...something crunchy. Probably potato chips, if she had to guess. As always, he was quick to swallow his snack and respond to her with his usual, lighthearted tone, "Actually, yes, now that you mention it. Erusea only has five IRBM silos in total, so they made a number of fake silos to try and throw our bombers off the scent."
To everyone's surprise, Count spoke up for the first time all morning. "Whoah, hold on a minute," he said, taken aback by what Long Caster had just told them. "Did you say 'fake'? How the hell is that supposed to work?"
"An optical illusion. A pretty damn good one, too," Long Caster replied without hesitating. "They're painted to look like the real thing from the sky, and unless you get way down low then you can't tell the difference."
Naomi nodded. "We'll find a way to figure it out. With how important this is, I don't want to waste any of the bombs if we can prevent it," she said. As they lowered their altitude below the clouds and just above the mountain range, she figured now was a good time to give everyone their orders. She remembered Wiseman mentioning that Lanza was better at air-to-ground fights, since he liked to fly low. So that gave her the answer to her first problem. Making herself as authoritative sounding and sure of her orders as she could, she called out, "Alright, Lanza, I want you to scout ahead and take out the anti-air weaponry. Count, Jaeger, for now you two stay with me. Any complaints?" She got none, and Lanza gave a quick confirmation that he understood his orders before he broke off from the squadron, picking off the AA guns that were along the way before he picked up speed and flew ahead of the rest of them.
As they approached the first missile silo, the B-2's two pilots began to chatter amongst themselves, one of them expressing doubt about the operation actually succeeding before his commander silenced him and said reassuringly, "Relax. It's the wing of the LRSSG that brought down the Arsenal Bird. Three Strikes is the leader. Solo Wing's daughter, remember? The one with the red wing?" Naomi was flattered by the reputation she had, but Count didn't share her sentiment and let out an audible sigh of annoyance. The B-2 commander finally addressed them directly, "We've got the bombs. We're counting on y'all to do the terminal guidance, so don't let us down, alright?"
"Righto," Count said, perhaps a little bothered by the fact that their bomber friends seemed to entertain the possibility they might fail. Even Naomi was a little concerned, what with the high expectations placed on them all. They all circled around the first site on the radar, trying to find the best place to approach from, with Lanza having destroyed their anti-air problems and was currently moving onto the next. Count took a deep breath before he hesitantly and awkwardly asked, "Long Caster, just so we don't forget, you wanna...er, remind us how to use these things?"
"Let me guess, you're asking because you actually did forget?" Naomi asked, teasing him slightly in hopes to ease the tension between them. If you could hear someone roll their eyes, then she was pretty sure that it was the only sound she'd have heard from him.
Long Caster patiently answered his question, sounding mildly amused in spite of the overall seriousness of their mission, "To use the targeting pods, you'll need to switch weapons first. Try to align the missile silo as best you can with the circle that will appear in the center of your HUD. Once you're lined up, all you have to do is hit the firing switch and the bomb will drop. But you'll have to keep it aligned until the bomb hits, otherwise it'll miss its mark. If you do miss, it's not too big a deal, but firing another one will take some time, so you'll need to aim carefully if you want this to go by faster." Everyone said that they understood. After a pause, Long Caster spoke again, sounding embarrassed for not pointing it out sooner, "Also, they've set up a lot of anti-air weapons, but I guess you already knew that."
"Yup!" came the enthusiastic response from a rather excited Lanza. At least he was enjoying himself so far, and Naomi couldn't help but chuckle a little bit.
"Well, we're going to have to work together to take care of everything," Jaeger pointed out, mostly to Naomi as if to remind her that he and Count were awaiting her orders and that they all needed to work together.
Naomi checked her radar and figured out how they'd be doing things within a matter of seconds. Alright, let's try this. Trying her best to think like a leader and get things under their control, she started to give the rest of the orders to them, "Jaeger, I want you to watch the skies. Any enemy aircraft that show up and come after the rest of us or the bomber are your responsibility. I need you to help me make sure we all stay in the air. Lanza, you keep it up with the AA guns and keep 'em off of our backs." She paused as both men gave her a quick 'roger', her eyes flicking over to Count who was still on her wing while Jaeger broke off from them. Praying that he wouldn't put up a fight and they'd actually be able to work together, Naomi finally called out to him, "And Count?"
"Yeah?" he asked her quickly and more than a little defensively. He was probably preparing himself for an order he wouldn't like.
"You and I are going to work together to target the missile silos," Naomi said at last with a nod to herself. With a more careful and quiet tone, she asked him, "So what say you work with me on this, huh? 'Stick with Trigger'?"
Count didn't answer her at first, and she was worried that she'd accidentally upset him again without realizing it. But after a pause he finally agreed, "Sure. Whatever you say. Let's just hurry this up, alright?"
Not the most enthusiastic response she'd ever gotten, but it was a step in the right direction. She smiled a little to herself. "Righto," she chirped, making use of his own favorite word. He let out a surprised 'huh?' at hearing the word coming from her mouth, and it did sound a little unusual when she stopped to think about it, but she had other things to worry about. Naomi pulled up, and when Count moved to follow her, she said to him, "Count, why don't you do the honors of destroying the first missile silo? There are five of them, and your score honestly has been lookin' pretty pathetic, so here's your chance to catch up to the rest of us."
"Me?" Count asked her, not sure that he'd heard her right.
"Do you see anyone else named 'Count'?" Naomi asked him, smirking at his confusion even though he couldn't see it. She continued to circle, wavering as if she was going to begin her approach towards the target and handle it herself. "I mean, if you don't want to get in on the action then I could just—"
"Nice try, Trigger," Count cut her off and she pulled back up and clear of his plane to give him space to hit and run. "But this one's mine!" He dove towards the ground, lowering his speed and leveling out as low as he could manage without crashing. He switched weapons and aligned the target just as Long Caster had instructed, keeping it centered as they waited for the bomb to drop. There was a loud explosion as the bomb hit right on top of the silo, sending dirt, fire, and smoke up with it as Count pulled clear and joined back up with Naomi, letting out a victorious cheer. "Alright! The bunker buster hit its mark! Time for fireworks!"
"Destruction of first missile silo confirmed!" Long Caster called out. "Nice work, Strider 2."
"Don't get too caught up in the celebrating," the voice of the B-2's commander called out to them quickly. "Remember that the IRBM is aimed at the Osean garrison. Soldiers' lives are at stake and we don't have time to let our guard down."
Naomi was surprised to hear that, and it was the first time they'd been informed of it. "Wait, are you serious? Damn, the Erusean's must be getting real desperate."
"Sounds like they've completely lost it," Count said, his tone a mix of anger and concern.
"Yeah, you can bet on it," Jaeger agreed with him. "If they succeed today, then who knows what other extremes they might try."
"Well, then let's focus on ending this madness and keeping things from getting out of hand," Naomi replied firmly, trying to keep up morale and not. They were making their approach on the second target on the radar, and Lanza was just finishing up with the anti-air weaponry. "Looking good, Lanza. Keep up the pressure," she complimented him as she made a low pass over the area to get visual confirmation on the target, with Lanza taking out the last AA gun and SAM site in the area right before they could fire at her and Count.
Lanza chuckled. "Thanks boss!" he called out, and Naomi was caught off guard by that, but she managed to smile nevertheless. And with that, he continued moving on to search for the remaining ground targets and leaving the silo to the others.
As Naomi started her second approach, switching to the targeting pods as she did, something about the supposed silo didn't look right. She had a bit of a wild theory, but she had to chance it. Besides, if she was wrong then she'd just come back around. Instead of hitting the firing switch on the targeting pods, she instead made use of her machine gun. Instead of bouncing off of a regular structure, they all hit the ground and brought dirt flying up instead, disappearing from her HUD after that. Naomi pulled up with an irritated huff as Count flew alongside her. "Well, take a good look — we've got ourselves a fake," he said as they moved on. "Let's keep huntin', Trigger."
So that's just what they did, flying side by side to move onto their next target. As they approached the next silo, Naomi thought that she had it centered and went ahead and pressed fire. However, right before the bomb would have hit, a gust of wind hit her and her plane was pushed off of its original course, giving her no choice but to pull up to keep from crashing into the mountains nearby and she was reminded of Yinshi and Waiapolo, with the wind and close quarters. The circle on the HUD jerked to the side and the bomb followed it, hitting as far away from the silo as it possibly could have. "Aim carefully," Long Caster reminded her quickly as she struggled with the wind some more. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting the wind to be this bad. I'm heading around for another try," Naomi replied. She recalled Count once yelling at Spare Squadron to 'use the winds to guide you', and ultimately putting it into practice at Yinshi Valley. It had worked well then, so there wasn't any reason she couldn't use it now. She banked right, leveling out once she'd gotten back on course. Aligning the circle, she got it as good as the wind would allow, breaking to give her a little extra assistance. The wind pushed her off to the side at the last minute when she adjusted her angle, and the circle was directly on the silo as the bomb dropped. Naomi grinned. "This is Strider 1! Target destroyed!"
"Look! There's fire shooting up from the ground!" Lanza called out.
"Missile silo confirmed destroyed! That makes two!" Long Caster informed them. "No launch signs, yet."
"Heh. You know, we might actually be able to pull this off," Count said smugly as he and Naomi were joined by Jaeger, who was waiting for more enemy air support to show up so he wasn't left without something to do.
"Let's just hurry up and take out the rest of those silos," Jaeger said.
Right at that moment, a group of Typhoons appeared on their radars. "I'm picking up an enemy squadron," Long Caster announced. "Must be the reinforcements they called in. They don't appear to be going after our bomber, but take them out if they interfere with the mission."
"Jaeger, that's your cue!" Naomi said quickly and more aggressively than she meant to. It seemed to take everyone by surprise. Naomi wasn't too worried about that, though, so much as she was about the fighters. When Jaeger didn't react right away, she elaborated on her orders, "I don't want to take any chances out here. Keep them off me and Count and don't give them the opportunity to head for the bomber."
Jaeger chuckled as he split off from Naomi and Count once again, heading to intercept the enemy fighters. "Yes ma'am," he said through a grin.
"Best of luck, old man," Count said as he watched him leave and he and Naomi hit the afterburners. As they closed in on the target, he called out to her, "Yo! Trigger! I've got dibs on the next one!"
Naomi wouldn't argue with him, but Lanza let out an irritated sigh at this. "Look, this is a serious mission," he said, obviously not pleased that Naomi had allowed Count to keep up his little 'competition' and likely not used to Skald being absent. From everything Naomi had seen with them, the two of them were like brothers and it had been rare to see one without the other. Naomi understood not wanting to be apart from your friends, but at least she could make do with it. With a very short pause in between what he'd said, Lanza demanded to no one in particular, "Was it Wiseman who gave Strider 2 to Count?"
She'd forgotten that only Jaeger had the full story and knew why they had rearranged the squadron. It was Jaeger who came to the rescue, having the perfect answer to Lanza's question without revealing the fact that today was technically a test for Naomi and Count. "Our formation has changed several times before, Lanza," he reminded him calmly, having taken out the Typhoons. He now flew alongside Lanza to provide some cover from the enemy helicopters that were buzzing around. "Besides, Wiseman has a good reason for it."
Count let out a scoff. "Pfft. I'll believe that when I see it," he said. "I'm just glad he's not here to chew my ear off." Naomi didn't really agree with him, but it was nice with a chance to call the shots without someone else higher up the chain of command breathing down your neck. Sure, Long Caster was there monitoring everything, but that was different. She didn't have to report directly to him. But Naomi was brought out of her otherwise distracting train of thought as Count strafed the target and discovered it was nothing more than a fake. "Aww, crap. Another fake. Get close and you can see it's just paint. No dimension at all."
"We've still got three more to find," Naomi reminded them all with a sigh, carefully avoiding some fire from an AA gun as they regrouped and Lanza was finally able to reach them. She checked her HUD and radar. On opposite sides of the mountain with the fake one, were two sites set up. She checked her six, seeing that Jaeger was still keeping the enemy aircraft busy for them. Lanza continued his duties just fine...There wasn't any reason for them not to split up. Only one more fake was left, anyways. "Count, take the one on the right. I'll take the one on the left. If we can get that last fake out of the way, then we won't waste any ammo 'screening' them first..."
"Righto. Sounds like a plan to me." Count's plane banked to the right and he slowed down to get the target in his sights while Naomi headed for the other site. With only four targets left, one of them had to be finding the fake one.
"The fewer there are, the harder they'll be to find," the second bomber pilot said to them. "Good luck." Oh, now you tell us! Naomi thought, inwardly groaning at the new information. So, maybe the odds weren't exactly in their favor, but Count and Naomi had gotten used to less than favorable odds. This was no different.
As they closed in on their own, individual targets, Naomi fired at it with the machine gun to test it out and revealed the last of the fake silos, meaning that the remaining three had to be the real ones. Even though she didn't have another kill of her own, she still allowed a triumphant smirk at finishing off the last of Erusea's decoys. The enemy fighters seemed to realize this, and dropped the ruse themselves, abandoning their positions around the sites of the fake silos, instead choosing to go after Naomi and Count. The smirk faded as a missile warning went off in her ear and she had to make a sharp, high-G turn to get away from it. The two Erusean MiGs went right after her, forcing Lanza to abandon the ground targets and get them off of her tail while Jaeger tangled with the rest of their reinforcements that they'd scrambled from their nearby base.
Breathlessly thanking Lanza for the cover, she turned back around to rejoin with Count as he let out an excited whoop and pulled clear of the explosion. "Alright! Target destroyed!" he announced. Everyone, much to Naomi's surprise and probably Count's, joined in on complimenting him on his success. He let out a content sigh and coolly said, "You know something? The sky feels open and free today! As a Cyclops, I felt like a bird in a cage. But, once this mission is over, I guess we'll be back under the company commander's thumb again." Count let out another sigh, this one more irritated than the last. "Ugh. What a pain in the ass...Hey, Trig! Where do we look next?"
Naomi balked for a moment at the shortening of her call sign. At first she asked him why he felt the need to make a nickname...from her nickname. But, he was in a better mood than he was before, so Naomi was worried about spoiling things if she said anything. Besides, she could bother him about it later. Right now they needed to finish up the mission. "Uhh...well, I think we should split up again," Naomi said to him, clearing her thoughts. "There's only two left, right? One for each of us. We split up, take 'em out, and call it a day. It'll be a piece of cake. Lanza, Jaeger, you two good with covering us?"
There was a pause before Jaeger finally replied with, "No complaints over here. You two go and take out those remaining silos. We have no idea when they'll launch."
"Jeez, Jaeger, could ya be a little optimistic?" Count asked with an irritable huff. "We'll be on time."
"Let's hope so," Naomi said. She took a deep breath. "Strider 2, let's go give these guys a nice, Osean-style 'good morning'!" The two split off at the same time, finally working in unison. Their planes banked in opposite directions, the bellies of the aircraft facing one another before they both increased their speed, making quick use of the afterburners once again and leveling out. Naomi smiled and glanced out her cockpit and over at Count's plane as they both made their dive and approach. Before long, his plane became nothing than a glinting speck against what little sun they had that day as the space between them increased. So Naomi put her attention back on the missile silo. Taking a deep breath, and carefully lining up the shot, she slowed down and angled the nose of her Eagle up slightly so she could prevent herself from crashing last minute. She pressed the firing switch, "This is Strider 1. Target coordinates sent!"
"Roger, Strider 1. Dropping the bunker buster now," the pilot informed her. Just like every other time before, there were several moments of silence and waiting, with Naomi keeping it as centered as she could. The bomb hit, but not directly, and the structure around the IRBM was simply destroyed. Naomi cursed under her breath and circled back around for another run when the B-2 pilot radioed her again, "The IRBM is unprotected. Standard weaponry should suffice, but you can take your pick."
"Eh, let's do it the easy way." Naomi pulled up before starting another sharp, high-G turn and bringing her plane into a straight dive while she switched to her regular weapons. Once she got a lock on the IRBM, which Long Caster had marked on her HUD for her, she fired and leveled out to fly clear of the explosion. "IRBM has been destroyed. Count, how are you doing with that last one?"
There was a brief period of silence before Count suddenly declared, "Boom! Right on the money!"
"All missile silos confirmed destroyed!" Long Caster announced to them, with the pilots all letting out shouts of victory at the new information.
However, as the squadron regrouped with Count near a seemingly harmless looking dam, something caught their attention. Count was the first to voice his confusion and fear at the situation that began unfolding before them. "Wait...What the hell is that?!"
Everything was quiet for a moment as they all tried to process what was happening, dread continuing to build in the few seconds that passed. The still, dark water seemed to grow more and more distorted until the surface turned white as something burst out of it and sent up a massive splash and a thunderous roar to join it. A massive missile shot into the sky, straight up into the air before it arced slightly to adjust its course. Everyone was too stunned to do much until Long Caster snapped everyone back into reality, "Alert! We've detected an IRBM launch! Confirmed signature on our radar! The launch site is...what the hell...holy — the dam! The launch site is the dam!"
"Not from the silos?!" Jaeger's answer was rhetorical, and more of disbelief than anything. They'd taken out all of the silos, decoys and real ones alike, and Erusea still managed to outwit them and stay a step ahead in the game. They were smarter than everyone gave them credit for if they were able to think that far ahead. Perhaps a little paranoid, but nevertheless more forward thinking than Naomi would have ever imagined. But Osea was catching on fast, and this didn't change anything. Did it?
Naomi shook her head and looked back up at the missile as it gained some distance from them, looking like nothing more than a streak in the sky at this point. They couldn't let that thing get away. If they did...then several people could die. Not just soldiers, either. Who knew who else would get caught up in it? "They certainly hid it well," Naomi huffed out. Thinking through the next orders for her wingmen, she prepared herself to chase the missile down if she had to. Taking a calming breath and remembering that a good leader needed to keep their head in a battle, she asked, "We still have a chance, right Long Caster?"
Long Caster was quick to respond to her, probably making the same realization that everyone else was, "If you hurry. Shoot it down before it reaches critical altitude! Your plane will only be able to follow so far before it stalls, so if you intend to catch it before then, you need to go NOW!" Naomi nodded, immediately picking up speed and lifting her nose to bring her aircraft into a climb to reach the missile. Several enemy fighters tried to take her out head on, but Lanza, Jaeger, and even Count immediately jumped on the three planes to cover her while she intercepted the missile. Unfortunately, just as Naomi adjusted her position to get a clear shot, Long Caster radioed them once again, "Dammit! Strider Squadron, we've confirmed another launch! Take it out!"
I've kind of got my hands full with this one, in case you didn't notice! Naomi thought, gritting her teeth, although she didn't say anything. Trying to focus on lining up her shot and getting a lock on it, slowing her speed without stalling, as well as controlling her shaking, she got her thoughts together long enough to call out orders to the rest of her squadron. "Lanza, Jaeger, keep distracting those fighters and keep them off our tails. Count, I need you to chase down that other missile!"
Count sputtered in disbelief before he finally broke away from Jaeger and Lanza and changed direction to head towards the other missile in the opposite direction. "Righto," he said. "Just be careful. And hurry up!"
Naomi nodded with a small smile, glad that he was willing to listen to her orders and chase after it without a complaint. Jaeger remained to cover Naomi, while Lanza took off after Count to intercept the fighters that were already flocking around the other IRBM to protect it from their advances. Realizing that she was wasting time, she picked up speed and finally got within range of the target. As she fired a pair of missiles, she frantically made use of the machine gun to help the damage along, having to continue to slow her plane to keep from running into it. She grunted in pain and surprise as the IRBM ignited, bursting into a brilliant ball of orange and white that blinded her for a moment. The force shook her plane as it stalled from the reduced speed, but she recovered from both quickly, frantically adding speed so that she didn't fall to the ground.
Just as soon as the missile that Count went after disappeared from the radar, another target popped up. "Incoming!" Count yelled as he recovered from the blast from his own target. "Long Caster, can you confirm it's another launch?"
"It is!" Long Caster said firmly. "Get in there now!"
Both of them started to make a run for the missile, but even while they were pushing the engines to their limits, it seemed like the target wasn't getting any closer. After what felt like forever, and the feeling might have had something to do with the fact that Naomi was finding it hard to breathe properly thanks to fear and adrenaline giving her a hard time, they finally got a visual on the target. Side by side, Naomi and Count pulled up into a climb to match the angle of the IRBM. Lanza and Jaeger wiped out the last of the enemy fighters and quickly tried to catch up, but Naomi and Count were closer than their wingmen and would have a chance to fire before long.
The two Eagles continued their climb, dancing around one another and managing to maintain the same speed and keep from hitting each other as they continued to intercept the target. At last there was a solid tone that meant only one thing: they had a lock. Without either one of them having to prompt the other with an order to fire, they simultaneously fired a pair of missiles, holding their breath as they waited to see if any of the four hit it. Just as intended, all of them found the target and before the explosion could blind them, they both arced back in opposite directions, showing their bellies to the explosion before rolling clear of the shockwave and regrouping with the rest of their squadron mates.
All of them collectively let out a relieved sigh after practically holding their breath throughout the entire ordeal. Naomi looked around to make sure that no one was hurt, breathlessly laughing for a reason that even she didn't fully understand. It wasn't long before all of them joined in, the tension finally lifting. As they all worked to recover from the fit of laughter, Count managed to say after a deep breath, "That was cutting it pretty close. Heh. I was starting to get a little nervous!"
"You're telling me," the first bomber pilot said with a shaky breath, probably having also laughed a little bit. It was really infectious after everything that had just happened. "You had us sweating up here and there wasn't even anything that we could do about it!"
The second one also chuckled. "But in any case, I'm glad we were partnered with you on this operation." Sheepishly, the man that previously doubted them admitted, "I, uh...guess all the rumors we heard were true."
Naomi, still grinning, looked over her shoulder at Count on her wing. "Hey, Sir Count! You still alive?" she asked and heard him snort in amusement and annoyance. Yeah, he was fine. Naomi leaned back in the ejection seat best she could as she was finally able to let up on the engines. Avril was gonna kill her, but at least this time she had a good reason and maybe the Scrap Queen would be merciful enough to make her death quick and painless. "How you feel, Strider 2?"
"Like a wolf that's been let off it's leash," Count said, sounding like he was grinning wildly as he did. "If we keep this up then the Eruseans aren't gonna know what hit 'em!"
"I thought you were a bird freed from its cage," Lanza pointed out what he'd previously said and while all of them gave a quick laugh at his expense, he didn't pay them much mind.
"Whatever. That all went about as expected," he put in with a smug, satisfied smile on his face and a relaxed sigh. "Whatever you do, just be sure to put in the report how much ass I kicked while off the company commander's leash!"
It was Jaeger who responded, surprisingly snarky, "Roger that, and I'll be sure to include all the crap you said about Wiseman, too." After a pause, he sighed and with a much lighter tone he said, "But overall, you both did a good job. I'm impressed. I'm sure my son's gonna love this story."
Naomi blinked. This was the first she remembered hearing about Jaeger having a son. "You have a son?" she asked. "You never told us about him!"
"Oh boy," Lanza said with a groan. He chuckled. "Now that you've brought it up, trust me, he's gonna tell y'all everything about him!"
She chuckled. "Well, it's a long flight back and I'm sure Jaeger would love a story to tell, sooo...by all means."
Jaeger chuckled and Lanza let out another, more exaggerated groan of anguish as Jaeger obliged and began to tell them everything he could about his son. And Naomi actually didn't mind it. As they set a course back to base, their resident storyteller kept them entertained and any silence was tolerable instead of awkward. She had a feeling that even Count enjoyed hearing his stories. Long Caster could be heard continuing to munch on his potato chips the entire time, too, which made Naomi ready to get back and eat lunch. But all of the stress and tension from before was mostly gone.
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New Arrows Air Base, East of Usea.
1459hrs.
After they all returned to base and were out of their flight gear, they unfortunately had to report straight to a debriefing where Wiseman, Long Caster, and Commander Hawkins, and her father were waiting for them. But there were smiles on everyone's face. Tired smiles, but smiles nonetheless. When they entered the room, Wiseman put down the mission report he had and strode over to them with a proud look on his face and a smile that made his eyes practically shine. Naomi nervously returned the smile, remembering how stern he'd been with her and Count and how out of line Naomi had been with him. But it seemed that he'd already forgiven her for that and moved on from it. Naomi watched her father follow after him, wearing a look filled with just as much pride if not more (were that even possible).
Her commander gave her a friendly clap on the shoulder before moving onto Count to do the same, and her father pulled her into a hug. "Sounds like you all had an exciting morning," he said to her with a smile. His brow furrowed and he was clearly amused by something as he looked down at her, his arm still wrapped around her shoulder. "Something about a missile being launched from a dam or something crazy like that? Pfft...I wonder where people get ridiculous ideas like that, y'know?"
She noticed that all of the other, older officers shared a look of equal amusement and understanding at the comment her father had made, but Naomi only found it half amusing. "Mmm-hmmm. I'm sure you do," she said to him with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. He shrugged it off, releasing her from the side hug and letting her and the others continue forward until they reached their base commander. Hawkins looked over them with a small smile, and Naomi jogged the rest of the way across the room. Eagerly, she asked him, "Well, Colonel, how'd we do?
"Well, for starters you've successfully prevented an enemy ballistic missile attack," he replied, probably finding her excitement both amusing and draining at the same time. "So I'd say you all did excellent given the last minute change in the mission. Long Caster told me that everyone pulled their weight out there today." Naomi saw Hawkins' eyes flick from her to Count and then back to her and felt a little disappointed that he expected both of them to do badly. Something told her that he didn't initially have the same faith in them that Wiseman did. He cleared his throat and went on, "Now that we've cleared up Erusea's little distraction, we can now start preparing for our final long-range operation: seizing the capital. Strider Squadron, rest up, now. I've been in touch with the General Staff Office and we might have a change to our schedule with all the tricks that Erusea's desperately pulling out from their sleeves. But for tonight, you're free of most responsibility. Good work, team. You're dismissed."
As the little group began talking amongst themselves about hanging out at the mess hall for a bit, with Long Caster informing them that the cook was whipping up a new dessert and Lanza making the suggestion that they raid the kitchen, Count stood there with a conflicted look on his face, glancing at Naomi. When they turned to him for his input, he nervously scratched the back of his head. "Er, you guys go ahead. I'll catch up later," he said, excusing himself from the group. Naomi watched him leave, somewhat concerned for him. He probably just wanted some space after the rather long morning.
Wiseman came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and taking her off to the side, away from the others. "Jaeger and Long Caster both tell me that you handled yourself pretty well out there, kid," he said to her with a soft chuckle. "I didn't really doubt you. Your father told me that you needed a good push, so I gave it to you. And I'll be damned if you didn't figure out how to work with Count and take charge like I told you to. It's a lot different calling the shots when you're the highest ranking officer, huh?"
Naomi nodded, a little embarrassed by the praise. "Yeah, it is...I um...I want to apologize for the way I acted, Major. I understand now that you were only wanting what was best for the squadron. Both of them. And...well, I was being pretty selfish."
"Just a little bit," Wiseman said to her with a shrug. "But don't sweat it, now. I didn't expect perfection from all of you right away. I wanted to give you time to adjust, but with a war going on I had no choice but to throw you into things. You were ready for the action, but you weren't ready for the responsibility initially. I think time will tell, but I still stand by my belief that you've got what it takes. All of you do if you'd get your act together and realize you're on the same team."
"I think Count's getting there," Naomi answered him. "Tabloid's always gotten that part figured out. I..." she trailed off. After everything her own country had put her through, it was a little hard to believe that they were on the same side. If they were, then they weren't necessarily on hers. But her squadron and her friends, on the other hand...they were as far as she could tell. Naomi smiled. "I guess I'm not quite there yet, either. But I'm working on it, sir."
"That's what I like to hear, Captain," Wiseman said. He gave her another pat on the back before giving her a light shove forward towards Jaeger and Lanza. "Now, you and Strider all go out and have a good time. You've earned it after how well you did without your unit commander." Naomi looked back at him and he winked while giving her a warm grin. She returned it, hers more grateful than anything before she turned back around and started to leave with Jaeger and Lanza for the mess hall to follow through with their evil plan of raiding the kitchen. But, Naomi had a secondary plan of her own after their initial raid. Whether or not it would be an appreciated gesture or not was a different matter completely.
|...|...|...|
1647hrs.
Count stared up at the sky as he leaned back against the hangar walls with a cigarette between his fingers. The radio that he usually kept in his cockpit was sitting at his feet, playing one of the few stations he could pick up. Thankfully there was some international station that played the Greatest Hits from various larger countries. Most of them were from Osea or Erusea, though, with some songs from a popular Emmerian band playing every now and then. Count took a drag on his cigarette, lost in thought with the lyrics from an older song that was popular during the first Continental War. A lot of people joked that it was the great Mobius 1's theme song, or took it the extra step and said it was the perfect song for any fighter pilot. Count could get behind that.
As he stood up at the cloudless sky, he couldn't help but think back to the operation from earlier in the day. Honestly, he'd never been so nervous before. They'd had several close calls before, but that one took the cake. For the time being. Chasing down a ballistic missile probably wasn't the craziest thing they'd ever do, what with how long the war was already dragging on. And with someone as crazy as Trigger leading Strider Squadron, it definitely wasn't the last time that they'd be doing something ridiculous like that. Count sighed, taking a drag on his cigarette and letting the smoke out with an irritated huff. As much as he'd been at odds with Trigger lately, he was a little disappointed that he'd probably be flying with Cyclops again. Something about Wiseman bothered Count. He had a perfectly good explanation, but everyone else loved the man, so he doubted anyone would listen to his reasoning.
Taking on last drag on his cigarette, he dropped it and crushed it under his boot. Short lived smoking session, but he was trying to quit for his own reasons. Although many people would probably argue with him about it, the things didn't do much to help with his nerves. Plus, something about the people around him gave him the impression that they didn't approve. Trigger didn't, he knew that much. Keeping his eyes fixed on the sky overhead, which was starting to turn orange as the afternoon dragged on, he took a deep breath as a cool, late summer breeze blew by. Fall was well on its way. The air was already starting to get cooler, and that crisp autumn scent was already there.
Footsteps startled him from his thoughts, but he didn't break his stare, barely even glancing over at the person that chose to disturb his thoughts. A familiar voice, albeit more subdued and gentle than usual, actually caught his attention. "I thought I'd find you out here." Count crossed his arms, looking out the corner of his eyes at Trigger as she approached, carrying something in one hand and keeping the other behind her back. She stopped a few feet away from him, and looked down at the radio, causing him to actually tilt his head away from the sky and towards her as he tried to read the expression on her face. To his surprise, confusion turned to recognition and her face lit up, a soft smile spreading across her lips. "Oh, they're playing Blue Skies? I love that song! My, er...my brother used to play it all the time. Like, actually play it...he umm...he had a guitar and figured out the chords and everything."
Count raised an eyebrow, only mildly disinterested. He wondered two things. One, he wondered why she seemed so nervous, although he could probably answer that one on his own. He was still a little upset about her outburst at Stonehenge, and he imagined that she probably knew this. The second thing he wondered was what she was carrying. To get this information, he figured he could be as short and indirect as possible. That actually was a surprisingly foolproof strategy. People liked to overshare. He smirked. "You know, there was a reason I was by myself," he told her. "So, with all do respect, I hope you have a good reason for interrupting me."
Trigger's smiled faded and it was quickly replaced by a scowl. "Well, I mean, if you want me to leave you and your R & B alone, then I can just leave."
"I never said that." Count allowed a small, half-smile and chuckled ever so slightly at her reaction.
"Well, in that case, I'm staying," she declared with a smug smile, holding out what she was carrying to allow Count to see that it was a plate with some protective plastic wrap over it. He looked up at her, silently asking for her to explain herself. She offered it even without the look. "Lanza and I went through with our raid. I scrounged up a couple of leftover donuts from a day or two ago and —" Trigger brought the hand that was behind her back out and revealed two glass bottles that had been recently pulled out of the fridge, "— I managed to scrounge up a couple of beers. I mean, I know that drinking in uniform is generally frowned upon, but we're not working and there's no one around, sooo...I mean, why not?"
"When did you become such a stickler for the rules?" Count teased her as he reached forward to take one of the beers from her as she took a few more steps to close some of the distance between them. She shrugged it off, pulling out a pocket knife that she carried with her and using that to open her drink. He rolled his eyes, recalling a brief conversation he'd had with their friend Avril about figuring Trigger out or something like that. He didn't quite think that was possible. Opening his own drink and taking a sip, they sat in silence for a moment before he glanced back at her when she joined him in leaning against the wall. "You know, you didn't really answer my question."
She looked at him in confusion. "What question?"
"Wasn't really a question. I just figured you had better things to do, so why leave a party to come and bother me? Beer and day old donuts? Not exactly the greatest combination in the world," Count pointed out with a dry laugh.
"Well, I guess I wanted to talk to you..." Trigger admitted. It was his turn to be both confused and surprised. She looked at him before she went on, "I feel bad for yelling at you when we were defending Stonehenge. I was way out of line, I pulled a stunt that endangered everyone, and after having Wiseman yell at me and keep me out of the air for a few days...well, I guess I realized that. I empathize with the freed from a cage feeling you mentioned during the mission. Anyways, I was kind of being a—"
"A bitch?" Count offered helpfully and Trigger glared at him for a moment before smacking his arm. He let out a laugh that actually surprised himself.
"I would have gone with a nicer word, but I guess 'bitch' works too," Trigger said to him, shaking her head and taking a swig of her beer. She took a deep breath. "I guess I'm just trying to say that I really am sorry for lashing out like I did. I don't really have an excuse for it or any real, fair reasoning behind it, but I hope you could try not to hold it against me."
Count looked at her, taken off guard by the apology. He debated it in his head for a moment, although he'd mostly cooled of by now and wasn't that upset about it. Irritated, maybe, but not still at the 'hold a grudge and never speak to you again' level of irritation. Wanting to maintain his cool demeanor, he simply shrugged. "Eh, I'll think about it," he said, but Trigger must have been satisfied with the answer because she looked at him with a mix of relief and appreciation. For someone that was typically so open and feisty, it was a little odd to see her acting so subdued and laid back. Okay, so at least her slapping his arm meant that she hadn't completely lost her edge. Her mind, maybe, but not the attitude.
They didn't speak for a few minutes, up until the song finished and the radio station chose to cut to a quick commercial break for some Erusean insurance company. It wasn't as if they had any problem just standing there and providing subtle company, but neither one of them were interested in listening to commercials. Honestly, who would be interested in listening to them? Trigger cleared her throat, staring down at her drink for a second as she thought for the right conversation starter. At last she found it, and gave him a playful smirk. "So, uh, what was with that new nickname earlier? 'Trig'? I mean, I've never heard anyone make a nickname from something that is already considered a nickname."
"Oh, that." Count inwardly cringed as he recalled letting the name slip. He actually didn't remember where it came from. Maybe it was just laziness and not wanting to say her full name, or he could look at it as having been more convenient at the time. Looking back, it sort of reminded him of high school and freaking trigonometry of all things. There probably wasn't a good answer for why he actually chose to call her that. He shrugged it off. "Eh...it was just easier than saying 'Trigger' at the time, I guess." Count paused and then stifled a laugh as he took a drink. "If you'd like, I could call you 'Cap' instead. Or 'boss' like Lanza does. Or maybe Solo Wing Trigger, eh?"
Trigger chuckled. "Yeah, I'm not so sure about that. I mean, 'boss' at least makes me feel a bit like a badass. Solo Wing Trigger doesn't have the same flow, but I could live with it...but you call me 'Cap' and I'm going to start thinking that I've stepped into the MCU or something." They both grinned at this. He'd never pegged Trigger for a movie fan, for some reason. They actually had never talked about regular things before, which made the topic a little unusual. Trigger sighed. "But, uh...weird nickname aside, you did a good job today. Wiseman seemed really proud. Um...Thanks for the help with those missiles."
"Eh, no problem. I just knew that I couldn't let you top my score." Count gave her a cocky smile and she rolled her eyes at him. She did that an awful lot whenever he was around. He suspected that she picked it up from Avril or Húxiān considering how much both of them did that to just about anyone. He sighed, the smile fading to more of a frown. "I guess I should thank you for giving me some more freedom out there today. Wiseman still treats me like I'm a kid with no skill and now he's come along to 'rescue' me and teach me how to be a 'real pilot' or whatever. Pfft. How do you deal with that guy, Trigger? I mean, seriously, the guy thinks he's a god or something. At least he expects to be treated like one."
"To be fair, you have an awfully high opinion of yourself as well," Trigger said. He looked at her, somewhat offended, and she shrugged. "Hey, you called me a bitch earlier and it was true, so I'm not going to sugarcoat things just for your sake. Besides, what's a good friendship without honesty, eh?" Friends? That sounded weird. He cared about Trigger and Tabloid but he'd never called them friends before, or heard them call him a friend. Imagine that. In spite of his efforts and prickly personality, they actually liked him. Poor decision on their part, but he was the king of poor decisions so who was he to judge. Completely unaware of his cynical train of thought, Trigger continued, "I mean, Wiseman's got years more experience than either one of us. I think he's earned the right to lord it over us."
"Doesn't mean I have to like having it constantly rubbed in my face. I've met too many people like that in my life and at some point you get real tired of dealing with them," he said with a huff.
"I think you just don't like other people treating you like you've been treating them all this time," Trigger replied and Count glared at her. Was she trying to make him feel better? She tried to maintain a calm tone and not sound accusatory, but it did come across like that. For a moment she hesitated, probably debating offering her reasoning behind the comment. "Look, Count, I'm not saying that you can't change. Come on, I know for a fact that you remember how you treated me when I first joined Spare Squadron. You thought you were the greatest pilot in the world and you didn't like being shown up. Wiseman was an ace before either of us, and he's probably seen more action than us. He just doesn't want there to be any question about who's in charge, just like you didn't want that in Spare."
It was Count's turn to roll his eyes. "Alright. Whatever you say, Miss Psychologist."
"Not really psychology, but you're welcome anyways." Trigger said smugly.
He smirked. "I didn't thank you. It's horrible advice, if you could even call it that."
"Yeah, well, I never said you'd like hearing it and I also didn't call it advice. Just a general observation."
Count didn't answer, just shook his head with a defeated sigh and a ghost of a smile. He felt a little better. The truth was, he probably could do several things to prove himself to Wiseman. Hell, he had done several things to prove himself to Wiseman and their commander remained tough on him. It was exhausting. After dealing with McKinsey in Spare Squadron, and after Wiseman acted all wise and kind when they first arrived, he was actually hoping and expecting things to be a little easier. Instead it was damn near impossible to please Wiseman, although it wasn't nearly as bad as McKinsey who straight up punished them for not following his orders word for word. At least Trigger's dad punched him. That was satisfying. But unfortunately Wiseman wasn't a traitor, not exactly a tyrant, and hadn't really done anything worthy of being punched however tempting it could be at times.
It was easy for Trigger to stay neutral. She had been given command of a squadron, gotten a promotion, and was basically Wiseman's right hand man...or would it be right hand woman? Either way, Wiseman trusted her today. In a way, maybe he'd trusted Count, but most of the trust that was given out was between Count and Trigger. At least she found a balance of keeping him close so that they could watch each others backs and allowing him some free rein to help speed things up again. She gave him a moment to shine, and maybe Wiseman had been partly responsible for that, but Count was going to keep him at a distance for the time being. He wasn't going going to let Wiseman walk all over him. But maybe Trigger had a point and if he just kept his head down and made an effort to be less hostile then everyone else might do the same for him. Like today.
The next song had started playing. A rather popular Erusean song they called pensées. It meant 'thoughts' and in a way the lyrics reflected their title perhaps in a more meaningful way. Not a bad tune. Count rather enjoyed it. If Erusea had one good thing going for them then it was the music. Trigger tilted her head to the side as she listened to it. After a moment, she finally said, "Hey, Count? You speak Erusean. You care to translate?"
"It's just a song, Trig..." he replied distractedly as he tried and failed once again to return to his thinking and staring at the sky, then pursed his lips and lowered his head in embarrassment realized he'd let the nickname slip out again. God, what have I done to myself?
Trigger grinned at him and her eyes lit up as she got a good laugh at him. When it finally died off and she'd caught her breath, she declared, "Because of that, I think you owe me at least some explanation. I'm not asking you to sing the song, just tell me what it's about."
Count nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, well, I've heard a couple of different theories from people. Some say it's a love song and others say it's just a song about good, peaceful times with friends. It could really be either." He paused to listen to the lyrics being sung at the moment, quickly making the connection to his own language with it and thinking of the best way to explain it. "I guess it could really be any one of them, honestly. Overall it just sounds like a song about people that went through hardships together, but always had the other to rely on, finally getting some peace, and so on and so forth. It's really a bit cheesy when it all boils down if you look at it that way"
She paused, looking thoughtful as she seemed to focus on the lyrics. After a while she nodded and leaned her head back against the wall, looking up at the sky like he'd been doing on and off. "Actually, kinda like that. It's a pretty song."
He looked at her for a moment, surprised, before he gave a small, somewhat fond smile. Count chuckled. "Yeah. I guess it is." As the song continued to play, they both just watched the sun set without any other words between the two of them for a good, long while. They just finished up their beers and eventually tried the 'slightly aged' donuts as Trigger had put it (in such a tone and accent that resembled some chef trying to sell a ridiculously simple dish as a delicacy). And in the end he wasn't nearly as bothered with the company as he thought he would be. In fact, he actually rather enjoyed it. As he'd said before, she actually wasn't so bad for a Belkan. And in his head he heard her sharply correct him. Alright, you win. Osean.
|...|...|...|
Erusean Air and Space Administration, Erusea.
September 3rd, 2019.
0023hrs.
Late one night, or rather early one morning, an unexpected visitor arrived at the air base. Dr. Schroeder was working late when the leader of one of Erusea's political parties paid a visit. Of course Schroeder knew exactly who it was. He was alone in the hangar, his assistants Massa and Simon having long since gone to bed. Mihaly and his squadron were asleep by now as well, and most of the base aside from a few guards were all oblivious to anything happening on the base. Adjusting his glasses and looking out into the night from the hangar, he straightened up as the sound of a vehicle was heard in the distance.
They weren't entirely cut off from the rest of the world, but it was a long drive from the facility to the capital, which is why most of their visitors arrived by plane. This also prevented them from any stress at the main gate and a few other checkpoints set up around the facility to keep out any unwanted guests. But everyone knew who this man was, and there was no mistaking his identity. General François Parrish entered the hangar, his bodyguards all stopping outside when he held his hands up. Schroeder eyed him as he invaded his workspace, thankfully not touching the computers or anything, surprisingly. There was a time when every visit involved the former general picking up delicate equipment and...fidgeting with it. A peeve of Schroeder's.
One of the first things Schroeder noticed about Parrish, was that he clearly had not gotten good sleep in the last few days. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles to go along with it and complete the look. To top it all off, he was quite clearly angry with someone or something. Without any proper greeting, he pulled out a unfortunately not neatly folded piece of paper and slammed it onto one of the desks set up in the hangar. Schroeder didn't flinch as the loud sound echoed through the hangar, simply maintaining a blank expression and slowly turning to look at the paper with his hands in his pockets. Parrish was quick to start throwing out orders, "Signed from the King. The adapted drones from the Arsenal Bird aren't enough. If we have any hope of winning, then Erusea needs to act smarter and faster. The new drones...I want you to start work on them immediately."
Schroeder bit back a sigh, evenly meeting Parrish's cold stare. "Good to see you again, as well, General." He ignored Parrish rolling his eyes and moving back with exaggerated and overly expressive gestures, and instead reached down to examine the paper. Indeed, it was a signed order from the King of Erusea himself. Unfortunately for the general, Schroeder didn't actually serve the King and by extension he didn't officially serve the Erusean government either. He was still a Belkan citizen, Gründer Industries just requested he serve Erusea with the drones due to his expertise. "I'm afraid I have to politely decline your request, though. I'm still gathering the necessary flight data for the drones to initially operate with and let them build off of that."
"Then what you have is enough," Parrish snapped. As if Schroeder actually cared, Parrish jumped into a rant that likely had the intention to frighten him into submission, "If we don't act fast then our own government is going to tear itself apart. It'll be anarchy. Those opposed to the drone production have already gotten to the princess, and it won't be long until her father follows suit. Erusea is getting desperate, Doctor, and thanks to that ridiculous 'Three Strikes' or 'Solo Wing' or whoever the hell this moron is supposed to be, we've lost almost every advantage that we have! I don't care if you have to slave over these computers for weeks, I want the drones completed before the year is out!"
"What you're asking is insanity," Schroeder replied with a level tone, hoping to prevent escalating the argument. "You barge in here and give me a ridiculous set of demands to follow. It took year to simply design those drones and figure out how to make it so that they could actually fly, and now you're asking me to cram a couple of months worth of data into them and send them into battle untested? Do you have any idea what the costs for that would be? You lose them to this new pilot and you lose years of work. Along with that, you'd lose the war."
Parrish scoffed. "I'm sure you Belkan dogs would know all about losing a war..." he muttered, and Schroeder pretended not to hear it. After a few years you started to become numb to all of the insults hurled at you thanks to your foolish government's actions during an unnecessary war. Parrish regained his composure. "I don't care about the cost, I have the King backing me for the time being. I can pay for the production without any difficulty. Everyone that you have working here is to assist you, day and night, whenever you need it. That old has been that you have flying for you is to be sent up as much as possible. Every day if you have to. Get everything that you possibly can from him."
"Sir, we can't send General Shilage on sortie every day. The flights we've sent him on so far...the suits keep failing. They aren't enough to protect him," Schroeder argued, perhaps hiding behind Mihaly's health as an excuse not to rush work that needed to be taken step-by-step over the course of years to perfect everything. "If we push him that hard then it could kill him."
"Then kill him if you have to, I don't give a damn! Or get a new flight suit. We're running out of time!" Parrish snapped. "I'm losing the support I once had from Erusea thanks to the Princess and her little 'We shouldn't hate Oseans' speech. Naive little brat...what would she know, after being brainwashed by Labarthe...stupid old man is being investigated as we speak. Ha!" He was mostly talking to himself, staring at the ground, before he looked to Schroeder again. "I want — need — Osea to understand what it's like to lose for once. Make them understand that Erusea is not a country of pushovers and that we don't need them swooping into to 'save' us and instead ruin our land. I want to watch them all burn, and their precious Three Strikes can be the first one to go...with these drones, I could accomplish that. Now are you going to get to work on them willingly or am I going to have to force you?"
Schroeder hesitated, finding himself uncomfortable with what Parrish was saying. It sounded like he was on the brink of insanity. The scientist looked him over for a moment, just wanting him gone at this point so he no longer had to listen to this. He sighed. "I'll do it. But I'm not going to put General Shilage at any more risk than absolutely necessary. He isn't interested in your agenda, nor am I, so don't think for a second that I'm rushing my work as any favor to you."
Parrish waved him off, seeming pleased by the answer. He shrugged and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "Do whatever you like, Schroeder, so long as I get what I want in the end. I don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a long trip back and more work to do. I expect constant updates, Doctor." He paused, looking back at Schroeder with a fake, eery smile on his face, he added, "And if anyone asks, I was never here. I'll be in touch."
As he watched him leave, he let out a dejected, tired sigh. Once the general was gone completely, he stared down at his keyboard, conflicted. No longer interested in working through the night, he saved what progress he'd made and shut everything down for the night. And yet he was still unable to rest, with the idea that the work that he was doing wasn't so good after all. But what was he supposed to do? Say no and risk losing his job, or worse yet, his life? Small price to pay for some, but not to him. All he had was his work. Good or bad, he did what he needed to do. He simply provided them with the means to fight. What they did after that wasn't his concern nor was it his responsibility.
Or at least, that's what he told himself in order to get to sleep that night.