Three Strikes [✓]

Rest Period

Chapter Thirty-Four: Rest Period

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New Arrows Air Base, Eastern Usea.
September 14th, 2019.
2006hrs.

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When the four squadrons along with Specter made it back to base, they unfortunately couldn't go straight to the mess hall like everyone had wanted to. Specter Squadron's crew had all been allowed to go, but everyone else was to report to HQ for a debriefing. As Naomi and Count led the way inside, they were immediately bombarded by their three friends that had stayed behind. Avril, to Naomi's surprise, playfully punched Count's arm and actually hugged Naomi. As Tabloid stepped into the room, standing between Naomi and Count, Avril let go of Naomi and gave Tabloid what had to have been a rib crushing embrace. He grunted and chuckled, but returned the hug without any protest.

The guys had a much less personal response, standing right in front of them and smiling. Tailor was smiling at least, patiently waiting to hear any stories that he could. Bandog on the other hand just stood there smirking with his arms crossed, briefly glancing down as Sarge took notice of their return and bolted past with her tail wagging in order to greet those that she knew. Sarge let out an excited bark and raced to Naomi first, then greeted Count and Tabloid, and quickly approached Húxiān after that. Everyone got a turn in petting Sarge, although she was a little suspicious and snappy with Golem and Mage's pilots. After a while she payed them all little to no regard and ran back to the other end of the room to get attention from Wiseman and Naomi's dad.

"I can't believe you morons actually managed to pull that off," Bandog said with a chuckle, sounding amused but also impressed at the same time. "From the way things sounded, I thought Count was gonna piss his pants when Trigger started acting stupid." He gave Count an almost condescending look, eyes lighting up and the smirk starting to look a bit more smug. Like he was getting back at him for something. "Now when did you start caring about other people, hmm, Count?"

"Oh, shut up, Bandog," Count grumbled, but he eventually laughed the comment off. Bandog scoffed, but he didn't push the subject.

"Things were looking pretty bad a couple of times," Avril put in as she stepped back from Tabloid, leaning her weight off of her bad leg as usual and placing a hand on her hips. She was actually smiling for a change, which was a rare but welcomed sight. "You dumbasses are real lucky. I just hope you didn't screw your planes up too bad, otherwise that luck of yours is about to run out."

Everyone glanced at one another with the comment, knowing that she wasn't making an idle threat. It was the third warning they'd gotten that day. Once before they left, then again during the operation, and now this. They hadn't taken too much damage, maybe taken a couple of hits from enemy machine guns, but other than that their fighters were basically in perfect condition. Still, she'd have to fix them once again and make sure they still flew properly and since Bandog was pretty much forced into the title of being a mechanic, Avril would basically be doing all the work on her own. But, Tabloid came to the rescue and spoke first, "Maybe a couple of scratches, but other than that, we're all fine."

Avril narrowed her eyes on him and pursed her lips briefly as though deciding whether or not she believed him, but something close to a look of relief flashed across her face. After a while she shook her head, rolled her eyes and let out a quiet laugh. "Whatever," she said at last and Tabloid grinned. Naomi glanced between the two of them, noticing what Tabloid had said and Avril's reaction to it. It confirmed the theory that Avril's coldness about their planes and apparent concern for her work was just a cover up. At least, that was what Naomi chose to believe.

"Enough talk about that, though!" Fencer said excitedly from where he was standing, stuck in the middle of their somewhat large crowd. "Can't we just get outta here and get a nice party going? I'm starving!"

"You'll all get your chance to celebrate before long," Wiseman raised his voice a bit, having overheard their conversation, and they all looked to him. He was smiling slightly, working with the computer to get a call with David set up. Wiseman's brow then furrowed and his smile went straight as he looked back down at what he was doing, almost distractedly telling them, "But save it for later. For now, get over here and sit down before the commander gets here."

His tone wasn't harsh, but they all knew better than to argue with him. Without another word, they all made their way further into the room and took their seats as Wiseman continued his work. Before long, Colonel Hawkins entered the room with a tired look on his face. There were noticeable bags under his eyes and his shoulders were slightly slumped, but he straightened up before too many people could notice. It was also clear that he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. Naomi hadn't seen him since before the start of this submarine madness, and it seemed that he'd been cooped up inside his office for some time. In one hand he held a fresh cup of coffee and tucked under the other was a stack of about three files.

They all prepared to stand at attention to greet him, but as soon as they started to move, he shook his head and motioned for them to stop. "There's no need for any of that. I'm just stopping in to do this debriefing real quick, then I'll be off to bed. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get more than an hour of sleep..." Hawkins nodded to Naomi's father as he stopped beside him, then looked curiously towards Wiseman. "Any luck with Analyst North yet, or are you still trying to get in touch with him, Wiseman?"

"Working on it now...he said it might take a while for cellphones and everything to come back online. When I checked in after the operation when he was still on that payphone, he hadn't gotten his signal back yet," Wiseman quickly explained, then he typed a couple of things into the computer, clicked it, and the sound of the other line ringing came from the speakers. Wiseman grinned and straightened up. "That's the first call that actually went through instead of failing. We should have him any second now."

Sure enough, the call was answered soon after and David's face popped up on the screen. "Sorry for the wait, everyone. It took a little while for everything to go back to normal. Plus, I had a bit of damage control...sort of, anyways..." David trailed off, glancing distastefully at something out of frame. After a short pause he looked back to them. "You can go ahead and start the debriefing now. I'm sure you've all got other things you'd rather be doing after these last few days."

"I mean, eating would be nice," Boggard commented and he was promptly jabbed in the ribs by Footpad. He winced and glared at his friend. "What?! That AWACS dude got to go and eat. Hell, he got to eat on his plane. I'm hungry."

"Shut up, you big baby," Footpad hissed at him, and the comment itself reminded Naomi of something Brownie probably would have said if she were here. Apparently Footpad had learned a thing or two from Faun and Brownie after all. At least when it came to keeping Boggard in check.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hold you here for long. Sorry about that, kid," Hawkins said patiently, giving a tired smile. "I just want to go over and tie up any loose ends so you all can rest easy. Overall, aside from some stress due to the loss of all internet and cell service combined with a very minor clash and a couple of superficial injuries sustained during the protests in Oured, all civilians are doing well and General Perrault is handling all the information to the public. There's a choice that has to be made, but we're likely informing the public of the basics about what went down today. Once word spreads in Erusea that the submarine went down, the folks in Osea are gonna be dying to hear our side of the story." He paused, taking a breath and scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. "As for that shell that was fired, I'll leave that for you to explain, Analyst North."

David nodded. "Thank you, Colonel," he said. Without hesitating, he began his portion of the debriefing. "The shell that was fired from the railgun would have missed Oured by several miles, however we estimated that it would instead land somewhere else in Osea, impacting a surprisingly small portion of the southern coast. The most likely place to be hit would be one of our major coastal cities, and we're pretty sure that it likely would have hit somewhere near Redmill, even affecting areas along the coast all the way down to Bana City." For a moment, it felt like the happy mood was about to go down and they were going to find out that their victory didn't mean much, but David was smiling. "Now, that would have been bad, except for one pretty interesting little miracle. Somehow, Erusea intercepted the shell. In theory it would be impossible, but the shell was about halfway there and was just popped right out of the sky. I have no idea how, nobody does, and according to our contacts Erusea is refusing to say anything, but there's a rumor that it was an order straight from the King himself. I think someone in their government is starting to get the right idea."

"Either way, the submarine was destroyed and so was the shell that it fired," Hawkins finished. "The operation was complete."

"So, can we celebrate now?" Naomi asked quickly, noticing that some of her friends were eagerly fidgeting in their seats.

Wiseman exchanged an amused look with Hawkins and Naomi's father before he chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. Good work."

"YEAH! WHOOOOHOO!" Everyone cheered and sprang up from their seats as if on cue, Lanza and Boggard throwing their hands up into the air. Naomi laughed and wrapped her arms around Count's neck, pulling him into a tight hug. One which he surprisingly didn't fight. He just laughed at it. Next thing Naomi knew, Tabloid had hugged her from behind and soon everyone joined in on a big, ridiculous group hug. Together, Count, Tabloid, and Lanza had hoisted her up into the air slightly while everyone else joined the hug, playfully wrestling and still cheering. Everyone except for the older ones in the group joined in. Knocker and Clown both rolled their eyes and chuckled at the display, while David had joined in on the cheering and laughing himself. Kathryn and Grimm, who were sitting towards the back of the room, were fighting off smiles and shaking their heads.

Hawkins, Naomi's father, and Wiseman laughed at them but the celebration was cut short as Wiseman smirked and added, "Don't think your work is done, though. Your next operation is in 32 hours."

"What?!" Naomi and a few others said simultaneously, and her wingmen promptly dropped her to the floor.

"Gimme a break!" Count huffed out, and the others joined in on the whining as well, only furthering their commanders' amusement.

"But just for tonight, you all can go out and have a good time. Hang out at the mess hall, have some drinks, watch a movie. You earned a break," Wiseman added after their complaints stopped. "Now get outta here. Go and relax, have a nice talk. That's an order!"

And it was an order that no one argued with. They all stood up to leave, filing out of their seats. As Kathryn and Grimm stood up and made their way closer to the group to speak with Knocker and Clown, Tailor's eyes went wide with recognition and a mile wide smile appeared on his face. "Hans?! Kathryn?! What the hell are you two doing here?" he said, and everyone stared at him in surprise as he walked over to them. "I didn't even see you guys! I thought some of those voices during the operation were familiar, though!"

Naomi looked between the three of them curiously as Grimm and Kathryn stepped forward, smiling, and gave Tailor a proper greeting of a handshake, followed by a hug. "You guys...know one another?"

"He's my kid cousin," Grimm answered with a smile, playfully ruffling Tailor's hair much to the latter's annoyance. Tailor did laugh nonetheless, receiving a hug from Kathryn as compensation. Now that Naomi saw Tailor and Grimm side by side, there was some slight resemblance. They had similar facial features and face shape, with sharp and thin features. Their hair was different colors, with Grimm's being reddish brown as opposed to Tailor's black hair, but both men had short hair that stuck up in a couple of places but was overall fairly neat.

"Huh. Well, you learn something new everyday," Jaeger said with a smile, some sort of curiosity in his eyes. "Good piloting must run in the family, then. Tailor's shaping up to be quite the fighter pilot. Once he gets some experience under his belt, he'll be well on his way to flying as good as you two." That was where the curiosity came in, as Jaeger and the others began to lead the way to the door he asked Grimm and Kathryn, "Speaking of...I'm betting there's a good story behind that. You two were amazing with those drones. Where'd you learn to fly like that?"

The conversation got more and more distant as they opened the door and began to head out, but Naomi took a couple of steps and stopped. Count noticed and looked back at her, confused and concerned at once. He raised an eyebrow. "You comin' or not, Trig?"

She looked over her shoulder and then nodded towards the door. "You guys go on ahead. I want to thank David for his help. So, just save me a seat and I'll catch up in a few minutes. Alright?"

Count shrugged and began following the others. "Alright, if you say so. I can't promise that there'll be any food left when you get there, but I'll see what I can do."

Naomi watched him leave and smirked at his comment, but once he was gone she turned around and made her way over to her father, Hawkins, and Wiseman. They were finishing something up with David, so she waited until they finished what they were saying. When they were done, they noticed her standing and for a minute seemed concerned. "Trigger...I thought you left with the others," Wiseman said. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, I just figured I should thank David for his help," Naomi replied. "Unless you're in the middle of something, because I could just go ahead and go. I don't want to interrupt anything important."

"Actually, we were just finishing up here," Hawkins said and gathered up what he was taking with him. "Nice work, Captain. By the time this war is over, you and the rest of the LRSSG are probably going to be swimming in medals." As he walked by, he patted her on the shoulder. "Keep up the hard work, kid. I'll see y'all around."

Everyone said 'goodbye' to him and the commander was off, likely heading back to his office. As Naomi looked to David, she could see that he was patiently waiting for her to start talking. So, taking a breath and offering a smile, that's just what she did. "I wanted to thank you for everything you did for us out there, David. Without you I don't think we would have found out about Clemens or been able to defeat that submarine," Naomi said quickly. "You may not be out here fighting on the front lines, but you've got the spirit of a soldier. It's been a lot of fun working with you, quiz guy."

David smiled and then gave a sheepish laugh. "I was really just doing my job, Captain. If it hadn't been for you, I probably couldn't have done it. You and your squadron inspired me. Adapting to insane, overwhelming situations and facing problems head on as they come. Thinking on your feet, never backing down...but at the end of the day, you're still people. Crazy, crazy people, but still people. I guess in a way we actually helped one another."

The two of them both let out tired laughs, and Naomi nodded. "Yep. I guess we did."

"I've got one last question for you. Will Osea bring the war to an end? The answer is: yes! And it'll all be because of the LRSSG and the brave, skilled pilots that serve in their ranks," David said with a cheeky smile, his eyes lighting up. He seemed very confident, but Naomi thought he might be giving them too much credit. He suddenly sighed, and said, "I'd love to stick around and chat some more, but I've got to finish this report before my superiors come for my head. The worst part of this job has gotta be the paperwork, I swear to God. That all being said, I've had a lot of fun with you guys. Hopefully one day we'll be able to work together again, or maybe meet up one day. If you and your squadron are ever back in Oured, I know a great coffee place. Not many people know about it, but they make the best damn mocha I've ever had."

"I might take you up on that offer some day. Maybe I'll try and drag Avril and Bandog along too, let you see more of them," Naomi said, chuckling. The thought of doing regular, everyday things again was nice to think about. Going out for coffee with friends was always nice, but it'd been a long time since she'd done that. "Thanks again, David. It was nice to meet you. Well, sort of."

"I've had fun working with you guys. That's a great little group you've got there," David replied.

Naomi glanced at Wiseman, who was smiling, then looked back at David. "Yeah, it really is."

"Good luck on your next operations, Trigger," David said with an almost sad smile. "See you around."

"Same to you, David," Naomi replied. "Take care."

The two nodded to one another and Wiseman and her father said their goodbyes to David before the call was ended. Naomi actually found herself sad to see him go, but she was happy that she had a chance to thank him for his help. She hoped one day they'd be able to meet in person and have that coffee, but they had to get through this war first. With guys like David working hard and watching their backs, they'd be done in no time. So with that thought in mind, Naomi headed to the mess hall to catch up with her friends, Wiseman and her father promising that they'd be along shortly. It was time for a nice, however short, break. And to finally get some decent sleep when the night was done.

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2130hrs.

The celebration got off to quite the start. Pizza, burgers, steaks, tacos, and various types of sandwiches, plus some salads that Jaeger had insisted on so there was some variety to the meal and they got some vegetables (as if they were children that had to worry about a balanced meal). For drinks they had just about everything. A couple of beers, soda, water, and about a million different types of juices. Not to mention the snacks. The entire plan that night was to just relax and pig out, and Long Caster had declared that there was more than enough for everyone. Hell, they'd pulled out a movie to watch. Top Gun. Of course it had to be Top Gun.

The film was an Osean classic, even if the 'Osea vs. Yuktobania' trope had been overdone. Thankfully it had come to an end after the Circum-Pacific War, but it was still an awesome movie in spite of that and really didn't focus too much on any actual warfare and was a safe choice. And rumors of a sequel had even been floating around recently, so it was a pretty much perfect pick. It was either that or The Hunt for Red October, which followed a Yuktobanian submarine. It reminded Naomi an awful lot of their recent engagement and the ultimate defeat of the Alicorn, and although Boggard had really wanted to watch it, he and the others were perfectly fine with settling on Top Gun instead.

As the movie went on, not much attention was really paid to it. They would switch between watching it and then talking about anything and everything. Swapping war stories, joking, catching up...anything. You name it, they talked about it. Boggard and Footpad almost got in a food fight, which Long Caster had quickly broken up before it could escalate too quickly once he realized that good food would be going to waste. In fact, he seemed almost desperate to stop it. But they finished up their dinner without incident after that and continued laughing and chatting with one another, all the stress and tension from earlier becoming a thing of the past.

One thing hadn't yet been resolved, yet. Kathryn had seemed to calm down a little bit after the battle earlier, and she and her husband seemed to be genuinely enjoying the movie and watching the plane they used to fly in action, but every now and then she got a strange look on her face. It was a mix between bitterness, fear, and defeat. Naomi didn't know what it was, and she was quick to hide it, but Naomi had felt bad for yelling at her earlier. So when Kathryn got up to go and get another soda, Naomi decided she'd go with her, asking her to wait up. Kathryn looked back at her, confused, but waited without any argument. Once Naomi caught up, they began a mostly quiet walk across the mess hall.

After a few seconds of awkward, somewhat tense silence, Naomi decided to speak up. "Look, I just wanted to apologize for yelling at you earlier. Everyone was kinda losing it, myself included, but that wasn't an excuse. I should have kept a level head, but I've...never been the best at that. I'm hotheaded and I had to speak my mind, but I shouldn't have."

Kathryn sighed. "No, you were right, Naomi. Partially, anyways. You were right about Torres. He was pure evil, and he needed to be stopped." She gave a sad, small smile as they reached the table where all of the drinks had been cleared out. Glancing over her shoulder, she made sure that the soldiers sitting nearby weren't paying attention before she continued. "I understand that you had everyone's best interest in mind, and I didn't. After what I've seen, I don't like to automatically assume everyone is my enemy. I lost my brother in the last war due to some...misguidance on part of our military and because he'd been stupid enough to buy into it and believe I had turned on him...and on my country. I fought in a pointless war and had to live in hiding because of lies. I guess I was just being selfish for wanting to give him a chance, but I should have seen through the act."

"Well, I guess that's where you and I differ. I've been double crossed too many times to just accept that people aren't going to do whatever it takes to win, even if that includes lying. And I'm tired of watching my wingmen die because we blindly trust people," Naomi said, reaching for her own drink of choice. Wiseman said that they could drink, provided they didn't end up with a hangover, so Naomi had put a limit of two on herself. It was enough to relax and unwind, but not enough to get drunk. Or rather, too drunk. Her senses were affected by it only slightly, and it didn't impair her ability to think. At most she felt a little lightheaded. So she reached for her second beer, and if she stayed up any later then she'd grab a water or soda instead.

She continued her conversation with Kathryn. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, though, and for that I really am sorry. I...well, I kinda look up to you and I don't want you upset with me. Especially after all the help you gave me a few months ago. Not to mention you've been looking after Clown, and I appreciate that, too. God, that makes me sound so girly...ugh."

"I'm not upset with you, and trust me, you don't sound girly. Well, not too much anyways." Kathryn chuckled and tried for a bit of joking. "Look, I'm really not upset with you. My pride's a little bruised, but I'll get over it. We've all got our faults, and I've got more than my fair share of them. You did a great job today, kid. You've managed to outshine me and you're practically on the same level as your father. Or...maybe you'd be closer to your brother at this point." Kathryn gave her a playful nudge and winked, causing Naomi to suspiciously furrow her brow in response. As Kathryn finished grabbing herself some cherry cola, she moved on from the subject. "Now get back over there and celebrate with your friends, and quit worrying about me. Your friend, Count, looks like a lost puppy without you. A very angry lost puppy, that is..."

Naomi rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. There wasn't any point, and the spark in Kathryn's eyes told her that she wasn't going to back down or apologize for the teasing comment. In a way, Naomi kinda saw where she was coming from. He did look a bit angry and uncomfortable, stuck carrying out a conversation with Tabloid and Naomi's old friends from Golem Squadron. As she returned to the group and took a seat between Count and Tabloid, Boggard quickly filled her in on the discussion. "Count and Tabloid here were just telling us about some of the crazy stuff you've done. Well, aside from what we've heard about...you must really like flying through things...a tunnel in Roca Roja, then a marine platform? You got any other surprises for us?"

Footpad laughed and shoved Boggard. "Of course she does, she's Trigger! She's been full of surprises since the day we met her!"

"Yeah. From the sound of things, she's our little daredevil now, huh?" Faun teased her. He was sitting beside Naomi, between her and Tabloid, and gave her a side hug after he gently punched her shoulder. She noticed that Count seemed bothered by the exchange, but it didn't stop Naomi from laughing. Faun suddenly went serious, letting her go. Brown eyes narrowed, he looked her over carefully. "Thankfully you haven't lost your good nature. We've heard some...other stories, too. And there was that outburst earlier."

Naomi sighed, trying to laugh it off, but the truth was that it did bother her a little bit. "Relax, you guys. I'm not all doom and gloom yet. I can have fun, but yeah. It gets hard sometimes. What would you expect after everything that's happened?" She glanced around the table, noticing Count roll his eyes. Footpad, Faun, and Tabloid shared a look, almost seeming to pity her for some reason. Boggard glanced up at the TV as the final scene of the movie had started to play and chuckled as something lit up in his eyes. Naomi noticed it and narrowed her eyes suspiciously, trying not to smile. "What's with the dumb look?"

"So, what you're saying is that...you've lost that loving feeling?" Boggard tried for the joke, raising an eyebrow and glancing between her and Count and the others.

Footpad rolled his eyes. "Can you ever carry out a normal, adult conversation?"

Boggard gave a stupid grin and Naomi's old friend began to 'dance' in his seat, singing along with the song as it played on the TV (the volume having been turned up for the sake of the evening). He was, rather surprisingly, not as off key as she would have expected. It still wasn't very good singing, though. "You lost that looovvvin' feeelin'! Whoah that loooovin' feeelin'!" He was grinning throughout the whole thing, swinging his arm around Footpad's neck and forcing the latter to sway along, much to his agitation. After a short while, though, Footpad gave in and began to grudgingly sing along with him. "You lost that looooOOovin' feeeeelin'! Now it's gone, gone, gone, whooooaaaoh!"

It wasn't long before Faun joined in, then Tabloid, grinning from ear to ear. The rest of their friends had come over to see what the commotion was, and even Avril was smiling. Lanza and Fencer slid in and began to sing along, followed quickly by Skald and then Tailor. Wiseman and all of the older pilots sat nearby and laughed at the somewhat decent singing, while Bandog, Avril, and Húxiān stood and watched, trying not to smile. Soon most of the room was either laughing or had come in to sing as well. Naomi looked over at Count and nudged him, laughing herself as she spoke over the singing, "Aw, c'mon, you're not gonna join in?"

Count sat there with a sour expression on his face, obviously not happy with Boggard's 'serenading', but he gave her a surprised look when she asked him. "You're crazier than I thought, Trigger. Do I look like a rockstar to you?" He crossed his arms and scowled. "I don't sing..." Naomi raised an eyebrow and smirked, setting her drink down and hopping up, the song and singing still continuing (not that she expected it to stop) and she grabbed Count's arm. His eyes went wide as she pulled him to his feet. "What're you—"

She cut him off before he could protest, tilting her head to one side and giving him as wide and cheeky a grin as she could manage. "If you don't sing, then we can dance instead."

"I think you might be a little drunk, Trig." He said this as though he was trying to get a rise out of her, but she noticed that he swallowed nervously as she began to guide him in a very awkward, clumsy dance. He actually seemed embarrassed as he looked to Bandog and noticed the smirk on their friend's face. "This is stupid..."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Then be stupid. Have some fun, let loose."

The song went on, now with more people and sounding a bit closer to the original tempo. "We had a love, a love, a love you don't find everydaaay! So don't, don't, don't, DON'T LET IT SLIP AWAAY!" the bad singing continued and Naomi laughed, managing to get a smile out of Count as their clumsy dancing went on. He spun her, as awkwardly as the rest of the situation, but Naomi didn't mind it. She was actually enjoying it, and it seemed that Count was starting to loosen up, too. "BRING BACK THAT LOOOVIN' FEEELIN'! WHOAAAH, THAT LOOOOOVIN' FEEELIN'!"

Count and Naomi both stumbled a bit in their movements, but they laughed it off. Both of them. Seeing Count actually genuinely smile and laugh and have a good time made Naomi want to smile even more. Maybe she knew why at this point, maybe she didn't. The point was, in spite of the bad sing-along and embarrassing dancing, she was having a good time with her friends and having fun with Count. They got a short break from the stress of missions, and they'd had a success that day. The deserved a break. As the song was approaching what would be its end, due to that portion of the film's credits starting to come to an end, Naomi laughed along with Count and laid her head on his shoulder for a few seconds and they just swayed in time with the upbeat tune.

The song ended and the whole room either clapped or laughed or whistled, either because of the singing or because of the dancing or both. Most likely the singing, although quite a few people had been amused by the bad waltz. Naomi played it cool as she and Count pulled apart and she jokingly shoved him, but not as hard as she would have on any normal circumstance. Something softened the usual, playful hit. They took their seats again as Danger Zone began to play and endured some light teasing and funny looks as the rest of the LRSSG squadron pulled up some extra chairs to join them for the rest of the evening.

For the first time in a while, everything felt fine. Like nothing in the world was wrong, like nothing had ever happened. For once she actually, genuinely forgot her problems. And she never wanted a single thing to change.

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Farbanti, Erusea.
2140hrs.

For a day or two, there had been peace around the palace. Peace which had come to an end almost immediately after the most recent story on the news. Parrish had come by a few hours before nine o'clock, after word spread that the massive submarine Alicorn had been destroyed. As far as Rosa could tell, no one in her family or on their staff had been expecting him, and from the look on both of her parents' faces, she could tell that they weren't happy about the intrusion. General Parrish was now comfortable enough to frequently drop by their home, unannounced. And shortly before dinner, no less. Rosa's mother, being a gracious host, wasn't about to turn him away, either. They were left with no choice but to dine with him.

Henri joined the meal, along with a major that Parrish had brought along with him. Their small talk was, as Rosa noticed, forced away from the subject of the submarine until dinner was over. Her father ordered that Rosa, Parrish, and the major into his office to speak with them. Leo had a less than favorable reaction to Parrish and the major, his muzzle twitching as if he was trying to fight off a snarl. The major, a Major Allard, was smart enough to not try the dog's temper. Parrish was more brash and ignored the warning, reaching down and pretending to be eager to see Leo as he patted him. Rosa reached down and ran her hand through her dog's fur, discreetly grabbing a tuft of his hair around his collar so that she could pull him back if he tried to lunge and bite.

Rosa trusted Leo to behave, and as soon as her hand touched his fur he relaxed and grudgingly let the retired general pet him. Parrish chuckled and smirked, as if it was some personal victory when Leo lowered his head to let Parrish touch him, a show of defensiveness and submission, rolled into one. He gave Leo a firm pat on his shoulder and looked over at Major Allard. The tone he used was teasing, like a child picking on his friend. "Haha! I told you, Phillip. The dog's an absolute sweetheart. Admit it, you're just scared."

Allard's blank expression briefly fell as his nose wrinkled slightly and he looked between Leo and Parrish. He cast an annoyed look towards Henri, who simply nodded and then shrugged it off as if there was a silent agreement between the two. Allard's expression shifted back to normal. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, General. I'm only worried because of the things I've heard...from you," he said as they all spread out around the room, earning a scowl from Parrish. Allard raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more, understanding the transparent warning.

So Parrish had been telling lies about Rosa's beloved companion. Nothing surprising there. Parrish never did like Leo, and the feeling was rather mutual. But she didn't say anything, and kept up a smile as she took a seat. Henri stayed put by the door, muttering something through the mic he used to communicate with the other guards. Rosa seriously doubted that there was any threat they had to worry about. Their military was loyal to the very end, something her father firmly believed had to do with her, and most of the civilians were too occupied with the ongoing evacuation. There wasn't any reason to worry, and just once Rosa would have liked to not feel like she had to look over her shoulder to do...well, anything.

"So, François, I take it that you and Phillip had something important to discuss?" Rosa's father said as soon as everyone was settled. There was some obvious annoyance in his expression and partly in his tone as he glanced at his watch. Rosa had grown used to his annoyed tone after his excessive use of it over the last few months, no longer flinching as though she was the one in trouble. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come into my home, practically red with anger, on my one evening without any work extra work, all to disrupt my family meal and all other plans I had this evening?"

"Believe me, sir, I wouldn't have done this on purpose," Parrish said apologetically, though the look in his eyes made it hard for Rosa to believe him. At this point, she wasn't sure that she believed anything that he said. Not anymore. "There's just so much going on. Major Allard has gathered some important information, which I feel the need to share with you. Not only that, but we've been investigating General Labarthe further. Apparently he wasn't hiding, but he gave himself orders elsewhere and we can't find where he's operating. Rumor was, he was in charge of half of the forces that were decimated at Anchorhead by that degenerate Three Strikes. He lost most of his forces, not to mention the important men — actually, forget that...the friends that we lost. He was lucky enough not to have evacuated, and he and his forces regrouped and are remaining at an area in Anchorhead. I still believe that he's supplying the Oseans with information..."

"That's nice. I already knew this, because, in case you've forgotten, I am the King and reports on matters such as these come directly to me. Not only that, but we discussed our military's failure at Anchorhead!" The anger in her father's voice was surprising to Rosa, and she could tell he was annoyed by this. "So, what else do you have to waste my time with, General? Or am I free to enjoy a movie with my wife and daughter, now?"

"Morale is failing, sir. Three Strikes is a nuisance and is crushing our forces. If we don't act quickly, then we won't be able to keep fighting. It's time to bring the princess back into the public eye. Provided she can stick to a script," Parrish said, glancing at Rosa and causing her to ball her fists. However, she shrank in her seat and relaxed after a stern look from her father, honestly too tired for much defiance. "We have a speech scheduled tomorrow, one to encourage those evacuating and to give our soldiers the extra boost that they need. Point is, we have to take more drastic measures or we're going to die. We've already lost the submarine and her crew. Captain Torres was the only one willing to make a tough call and make a statement. To show Osea who was boss. And Labarthe and a few of your conservatives got in the way of that."

Rosa's eyes widened and she felt anger building up, but she kept her voice level as always. "For the last time, General! Captain Torres would have killed innocent civilians! Women and children...what they did to us in their initial attacks is inexcusable, but you don't retaliate in the same cold and bloodthirsty way."

"It's a perfectly fair exchange, Princess. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The punishment fits the crime, and Osea has done more than their fair share of crimes," Parrish sneered, sending a cold look between her and her father before continuing. "Unfortunately, there are laws about how you proceed. That being said, I have a solution to our biggest problem: Three Strikes. Now, I made sure that this information was complete before I brought it to your attention, Your Majesty, but I believe that it's worth sharing now. Phillip, if you would?"

Allard glanced at Rosa and then, without a word, lifted the briefcase he carried with him up and onto the table, unlocking it quickly and removing a file from it. He slid it towards Rosa's father, who regarded it with curiosity, and opened it up, looking over it curiously. Rosa couldn't see what it was, and he held it away from her so she couldn't try and read it. After a while, he frowned and furrowed his brow, slamming closed the file and tossing it onto the table with a loud smack that echoed through the room. Rosa sat up stiffly and craned her neck, trying to see what the file was titled, but her father distracted her as he began talking. "So, that's the person that's been giving us a hard time? That is who our military is so scared of? And you have a way you're sure that can stop this...pilot?"

"I'll be heading out to the EASA base early in the morning to check up on our progress, then I'm going to Tyler Island to meet with one of our other scientist. We're putting a rush on the Ravens," Parrish eagerly explained. "And we'll be sending Major Allard back into the field to gather some more information. But, as far as I can tell, the Ravens are the perfect solution. The only way that we can win this war, and the way to defeat that worthless Three Strikes. Three Strikes and Osea won't know what hit them. If I can deploy them as soon as I hope, maybe sometime before Osea reaches the capital, then we can defeat them."

"We don't have enough time before they get here, but maybe when we successfully cripple their satellites..." Rosa's father trailed off. He let out a heavy sigh. "I want to meet with your coworkers, General. We have to head to your headquarters, find a way to convince the conservatives that we have to deploy the drones. Or more of them, alongside your Ravens.." Parrish nodded and he and Allard started towards the door. Her father stood up, walking over to her as she did the same and placing his hands on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rosa. This is important, so I'm afraid that I won't be joining you and your mother for that movie. And...I want you to start packing. Parrish's mention of Farbanti has reminded me that I'll be sending you and your mother out of the city once all of the civilians have been evacuated."

"But, Father—" Rosa started to protest, but her father was quick to silence her.

"This isn't a debate, Rosa Cossette," he told her sternly, the use of her first and middle name indicating that any argument would not be met well. "I will be taking Henri with me tonight, but you and your mother will be leaving to head to a safe place very soon and Henri will accompany you. Pack everything you need, everything that you want, and make sure that you're ready to leave at any given moment. And go to bed early tonight. You're going to be speaking tomorrow." Rosa nodded and lowered her head as her father kissed the top of her forehead, ignoring the fact that he was speaking to her like a child. "I love you, Rosa. I'm sorry I've been so busy lately, but I will give you a break and spend some time with you and your mother as soon as this is sorted out. Please, tell her I'm sorry, hmm?"

Before she could answer, he hurried out of the room and after Parrish and Allard. Henri gave her a quick look of pity before he quickly followed after the king, leaving Rosa alone in the room. The door was open and she could hear their footsteps retreating and their echoing conversation. Sighing, she looked around the now empty room, down at Leo and then the file her father had looked at caught her eye. They left it, either on purpose or by accident, but the point was that they were hiding something in it from her. For some reason. Walking around the table, she reached for the file and pulled it towards her, scanning over the title. There was a bold warning that it was classified directly underneath the file subject, which had been marked out and instead replaced with a number. Rosa guessed it was supposed to mean something, she didn't know what, though.

[#3S-015 | REDACTED | CLASSIFIED]

Looking around, she made sure that no one was around before she curiously opened it. To her surprise, she was met by an OADF file, and one that belonged to the mystery pilot that everyone in their military seemed to be hunting. The ace that General Shilage was after. But it wasn't a man like everyone had assumed, and Rosa held back a gasp as she read on. How? It didn't make any sense. Three Strikes was supposed to be a ruthless killer, a feared and respected ace...this was the face of a woman. And one barely older than Rosa at that. This was the symbol of hope for Osea? The ace that was crushing their morale? Someone Rosa was old enough to attend college with, had she the time to go.

The last name was familiar. Foulke...she'd heard it before, but where? This entire file was all over the place. Three Strikes had a face, and one that didn't belong to a child nor to a killer. She looked bright, idealistic, and according to her file she was quick thinking and intelligent. Caring, too...apparently the other pilots she flew with were a notable weakness. And yet, she was said to have killed Harling. So what was she? This Three Strikes was more of a mystery than Rosa had previously thought. Was she a loyal Osean or a traitor out for whatever blood she could get her hands on? Harling had flown back to ram the elevator...to destroy it, right? That was the rumor. Had Three Strikes killed him for it? Or was she a victim of coincidence and circumstance, much like Rosa?

In such a short time she had been cleared and was seen as a symbol of both hope and destruction. Was that what Rosa was to her own people and to Osea? Both light and...death? She knew now for a fact that things couldn't be as black and white as she thought. As soon as she went to shut the file, planning to put it back and head to her room as though nothing had happened, she heard footsteps and the voice of Parrish demanded, "What do you think you're doing, Your Highness?"

Rosa jumped and quickly shoved the file away from her, having already closed it, and looked up to see that Parrish had come back. He must have been returning to get the very file Rosa was looking at. The one that, she quickly realized, she wasn't supposed to be looking at. She took a step away from the table as Parrish stepped through the doorway, not breaking eye contact as he approached to take the file. Rosa put a couple of feet between her and Parrish, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, General. I was only curious. I didn't look at anything more than the photo, I swear!"

Leo pressed against her, letting out a low, cautious growl as Parrish picked up the file, a cold, curious look in his eyes as he looked down at the dog and back up at Rosa. "You're a horrible liar, Princess. I hope you know that," he said to her, and Rosa was worried he might approach her and grab her to show he wouldn't make idle threats. But he continued coolly, keeping the distance between them. "I hope that the file doesn't give you any smart ideas. Like 'oh, anyone can be a hero'. Trust me, very few make it through a war, so I'd suggest you stay in line unless you'd like to share a similar fate to what we have in mind for Three Strikes. That bitch should have stayed in Osea or died in prison. I fully intend to keep Erusea from being made a mockery of by what might as well be considered children. First that Three Strikes, the terrorist's daughter, and now you. The King's daughter."

He scoffed and Rosa felt herself trembling, either out of fear or out of anger. Parrish shrugged at last and smiled, pulling the file off of the table and tucking it under his shoulder. "I'd watch your back if I were you, Your Highness. Erusea deserves this victory, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you or that criminal scum of a pilot that you seem to admire so ruin that." As he left, he added over his shoulder. "You see, some of us still have Erusea's best interest in mind, Your Highness. You can fake loyalty all you want, but it's becoming evident who you're more sympathetic to. And you've picked the wrong side."

Rosa wanted to retaliate. To call him a hypocrite and a liar. But her mouth was dry, and as he left, closing the door behind him, there wasn't anything for her to say. Nothing that she could say. She fell to her knees shaking, and tried to keep her emotions reigned in but she felt her eyes stinging. She was loyal to Erusea, but maybe there wasn't a point anymore. Those drones would bring more good than bad, and she was supporting it. She felt wrong for not supporting the decision, and she knew that she had to prove to Parrish that her loyalty was to Erusea, otherwise what little faith that her father and their military leaders had left in them would be gone.

She pushed herself up from the floor, brought back to reality by Leo whining and licking at her eyes. Dusting herself off, realizing how childish her reaction was, she took a deep breath. Erusea needed her, and she needed to be loyal to her country. They were the good guys and Osea was the bad guys. She was nothing like Three Strikes...right? She shook her head, but she still felt herself doubting her own morals and thoughts. Maybe there actually wasn't a good side and a bad side. Maybe both sides were to blame. But she ignored that nagging feeling, and she would continue to do so until the war came to an end. That wasn't what the people and what their military needed to hear.

But it was what she wanted them to hear. Sighing, she pulled out her phone, sending Ionela a quick text before shoving it back into her skirt pocket. Maybe her friend had some advice. If not, she was running out of solutions and distractions. Right now, all she could do was play along and hope things turned out well. Once again, she felt useless and powerless. She was tired of it, and she was tired of being tired of it. If she could make it just a little longer, maybe things would be okay.

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

Erusean Air and Space Administration, Erusea.
2230hrs.

Sol Squadron along with Dr. Schroeder had watched the news with great interest that evening, and Mihaly took notice that even his own granddaughters seemed fascinated by the story. Word had spread fast of the submarine and the crew that mutinied, hatching a plan to attack Oured and wipe out a million lives. It was named the 'Ten Million Relief Plan' but Mihaly didn't see how it brought any relief at all. He hadn't been in support of it, or rather he didn't care enough to condone their actions. He kept his thoughts on it hidden from the other four pilots he flew with, all of whom had very different opinions on the subject. Hermann and Roald insisted it was a barbaric plan, and while Wit and Seymour agreed that it was a bit extreme they also pointed out other ways the plan could have gone, achieving a similar result with little to no civilian casualties.

Much like Mihaly, their scientist companion hadn't cared much about the entire ordeal, but seemed curious about it for a few minutes before his work had quickly pulled his attention away from the TV. After the news switched stories to focus on less political, less extreme and more local matters, the interest in it seemed to diminish significantly. Schroeder returned to his work (soon retreating to the hangar), Roald went to bed, Hermann picked up the book he'd been reading, and Wit and Seymour played a game of cards. Ionela had been texting someone and flicking through whatever it was she looked at on her phone, while Alma had curled up on the couch with her stuffed bear and used Ionela's shoulder as a pillow.

The room was quiet, and the TV had been turned off. Mihaly sat in one of the chairs with a hot cup of tea Ionela had made for him. Some ridiculous herbal blend with some health benefits to it. He didn't care to know the name of it or exactly what was in it, otherwise he wouldn't be quite as interested in drinking it. There had been plenty of nonsense words Ionela had used, going on a rant about how the women of the Shilage family had passed the recipe of the tea on for generations and it was supposed to help with...something. He'd tuned most of it out, like he did with many of her rants. She reminded him so much of her mother, always fretting over his wellbeing. His wife had been the same way. What was it about his family and the need to take care of him as though he couldn't take care of himself? He shook his head and took a sip from his tea, noticing that Ionela had shut off her phone and was beginning to nod off.

He set his drink down and stood up, the conversation between Wit and Seymour having quieted down as a courtesy to Mihaly's granddaughters. Grunting as he rose to his feet, his old joints making standing up an uncomfortable ordeal, he crossed the room to the couch and gently rubbed Ionela's shoulder to get her attention. As if realizing she'd been falling asleep and as though she hadn't been trying to, she flinched and her wide, brown eyes shot open and flicked up to him, silently asking what he was doing. "Get up and go to bed. You'll hurt your neck if you fall asleep like that," he said gruffly and quietly. "I'll help with your sister. Now, up."

Ionela didn't argue, carefully lifting Alma's head so she could get up. Alma whined a protest in her sleep, muttering something, before she adjusted to the new sleeping position and rolled over. Ionela rolled her eyes at her younger sibling, but left her alone and instead went over to where Mihaly had been sitting, investigating his half empty cup of tea and setting it down with an exasperated sigh. "Is it really so hard to drink one cup of tea?" she asked him, and had it not been for her sister sleeping and the presence of his wingmen, Mihaly suspected she would have raised her voice. When he glanced at her and reached down to scoop up Alma to carry her to the girls' room, ignoring her comment, Ionela crossed her arms and frowned. "It's still warm. I'm not going to bed until you finish it."

"You are going to go to bed now, because I told you to." Mihaly retorted, as flatly and calmly as he could. Her expression was blank, but the look in her eyes told him she wanted to argue. "Walk with me, Ionela. Before your sister wakes up and gets her energy back." She followed without any protest as they left the room, the remaining members of Sol muttering goodnight to the three of them as they left the room. Mihaly could tell she was upset about the tea. Still. She was always upset about the tea. That damn tea. Keeping his voice as quiet as he could, he said, "Let it go, Ionela. I drank enough of it to last me more than a lifetime. Maybe if you'd let me have a cup of coffee once in a while then I might finish it."

"It's not about the tea. I don't care about the tea." Ionela had obviously not taken well to his poor attempt at a joke, glaring daggers before the look turned to one of...fear and distaste. He had never seen Ionela look scared. Not since she was very young. He didn't press the matter, giving her time to come around on her own. After a minute of silence, Alma still sleeping soundly as they walked, Ionela let out a sigh. "I'm trying to do everything I can to help you on the ground so that you have an easier time in the air...I'm doing much better than that Dr. Schroeder, anyways...and you don't even seem to care what happens anymore. You don't even seem to care if you come back or not. The tea is just...a part of that."

Mihaly let out a very small chuckle, a rare thing that only his granddaughters were allowed to witness. "I doubt that tea is going to do much good at this point. I'm getting old, Ionela, and I'd rather not prolong my life unless I could get more out of it. Again, I think that blend is just an old family tale that got passed down and stuck. It might taste alright to some, but it probably doesn't have as many health benefits as your mother or grandmother told you it does." He recalled a memory from when he was a young boy and his own mother 'taught' him about the tea. He still remembered it. It hadn't been a very pleasant afternoon. "My mother gave me some once, when I was very young and rather sick, and all it did was ease the soar throat I had. The virus didn't go away."

"I'm not saying it's magic or something. I don't expect it to heal you overnight, but...I feel like it might be doing something, even if you don't realize it," Ionela said. Although she was fifteen and rather mature for her age, she still sounded like a scared child in that moment. She glanced at her sister, Alma gripping her stuffed animal tightly as Mihaly carried her. "You remember when our parents died, don't you grandfather? Alma was too young to remember, but I was a mess for months. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even tried to get better. And I don't want to lose you. If there's even a chance I can help you, I want to do it. I have to do it. And it doesn't help that you don't want to cooperate!"

She raised her voice slightly and Alma stirred a bit, causing both of them to look at her, worried for a moment they'd woke her. Mihaly sighed. "Ionela, you don't understand. Nor do I expect you to. You aren't a pilot. Your father was, and he understood what it was like. Until you know what I feel when I fly, that all that pain is worth it in the end...you can't understand. You're a child, and one that needs to understand that I won't be around forever. The day that I can't so much as stand up on my own is the day that I stop flying."

They reached Ionela and Alma's room and Ionela unlocked and opened the door without a word, allowing Mihaly to step inside and lay Alma down on the bottom bunk. He helped Ionela tuck Alma into bed, the child miraculously still sleeping and only mumbling something sleepily before she rolled over and completely. Once she was sure that her sister was asleep, Ionela marched out into the hallway, fully intending to let him know what she thought of the comment, and Mihaly reluctantly followed her. He cast one look at Alma before he left the room, for the first time considering how she might feel to lose him. She was too young to fully understand her parents' deaths, and it wasn't until much later when he and Ionela explained it to her. She had been sad, but she had few memories of them. So how would she feel if suddenly the only person left to take care of her was Ionela?

As he flicked off the light and shut the door behind him, he turned to face Ionela and looked at her expectantly. Ionela took a deep breath to get her emotions under control. "You're so determined to face Three Strikes in battle, but have you ever considered that you might lose? This...woman is young. Less experienced but she's already given you a hard time. In that valley. You told us about it. You came close to losing." Mihaly started to protest, but she wasn't finished. She waved a hand and scoffed. "You're the King of the Skies, there's no arguing that. You're a brave man and a fierce pilot, but you can't win all the time. And I don't want you dying for a pointless cause."

"I couldn't care less about the war, Ionela. I'm not doing this for anyone else but me. And you may not see it, but for you and your sister, too," Mihaly explained with a sigh. She looked down at her feet, realizing that there wasn't any other arguments she could make. He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ionela, you've always tried to help everyone else and take care of them. Your purpose is your family and looking out for others. That's what drives you. You and your sister are the only family I have left, and if I lost my purpose and my reason to fight then you'd lose me in a worse way than if I died. And I couldn't bare to watch you suffer."

"You saw what Three Strikes did to that submarine..." Ionela said fearfully, her voice cracking. "And you're not invincible. Not like that crew thought they were, anyways."

"That was luck, Ionela, nothing more. A man fueled by madness that made one too many mistakes. Three Strikes practically had the target handed to her on a silver platter," Mihaly said to her, a bit offended that his granddaughter. "Sooner or later, luck runs out."

"The same rule applies to you." Ionela lifted her head to look at him, any signs she was going to start crying quickly fading away. "Your luck has limits, and you're going to push yourself too far."

Mihaly met her eyes, frowning slightly before he changed his expression back to being blank. "Ionela, I'm not going to be defeated by an overconfident child. Three Strikes is my problem and mine alone, and I don't intend to lose."

Ionela looked as though she had more to say. Much, much more. But she clenched her fists and turned away from him. "Goodnight, Grandfather. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, she turned away from him, shutting the door behind her and leaving him by himself in the hallway. He felt bad, knowing he'd probably hurt her feelings, but he didn't have the energy to put up with her being a moody teenager any longer. So he went for a walk, hoping to forget about the discussion entirely.

He knew that Ionela was only worried about him, but she was letting her concern turn into some sort of bitter resentment. Either towards him or Schroeder...even towards the Princess or Erusea as a whole. Either way, Mihaly was determined to prove that he was still the King of the Skies. Three Strikes may be a challenger, but just like every pilot before her she would fall. He didn't care about Erusea or even his former home. The skies were his kingdom, and Three Strikes posed a threat to that. And just to prove Ionela wrong, he was going to defend his title and his honor, and show Solo Wing's daughter how a real ace fought. And he would come back in one peace.

That was a promise he made himself, and one that he silently made to his granddaughters. The time for their fight was coming, and he was eagerly awaiting it.

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

New Arrows Air Base, Eastern Usea.
September 15th, 2019.
0700hrs.

It was quiet around base that morning, everyone exhausted from either the operation the day before or the long night of celebrating that had followed it. Either way, most everyone was granted permission to sleep in as long as they'd like. Bandog took advantage of this and went to the hangars early with Sarge to have a little time to themselves. He let Sarge run and play fetch as much as she wanted, even getting in some running himself. It wouldn't be long before the Scrap Queen was up and giving him a hard time, then before long Trigger and the rest of the idiots they'd made friends with would be along to bug them. Truth be told, he actually didn't mind them so much anymore, but he had a bit of an act to keep up.

Sitting down on the concrete and leaning back against the open door of the hangar, he switched between keeping an eye on Sarge (who was perfectly happy to just run in circles) and watching the remainder of the sunrise. He wished he could find a job for himself and Sarge where they could both be useful, and he'd actually put in some training with the MPs during what limited free time he had. They hadn't been happy, but they gave him a chance. Sarge was a working dog, not really suited to the lifestyle she was stuck in now, and he wanted to continue working with her. So he requested a position as a handler, filling out all the paperwork he could find and sending it to Hawkins. All he had to do now was wait, and he had no idea if they'd actually let him do it.

It was all a very strange process, and he'd been shuffled from so many places and positions since the start of the war that he hoped they'd overlook this one. Perhaps he should have been grateful for everything he'd been through, otherwise he wouldn't have been knocked down to an airman and stuck with the other enlisted soldiers. Which meant he wouldn't have been able to even try working with Sarge. Still, he had to keep in mind that he might not be allowed to move over, having worked vastly different jobs in the past. Sarge didn't seem to care. She was good at her job whenever she got a chance to do it, case being escorting Clemens to his transport so they could ship him off to a court martial.

Bandog smiled, recalling how beat up Clemens was thanks to Húxiān and Trigger. He had to hand it to them, they had guts to pull a move like that. It was even more satisfying than the time that Bandog had punched him, though this time no one really got in trouble for what happened. The look on Clemens' face when Húxiān came at him, then when Trigger followed. And the defeated look on his face when he was in his cell and finally when they shoved him on that plane. Bandog chuckled. It was nice that Clemens finally had a taste of what it was like to be the screw up for once. Bandog was glad the guy was gone, finally going to get more of a punishment than a mere slap on his wrist.

Seeing Húxiān go after Clemens without any hesitation, all because he'd played a part in what had happened to her and Strider over Anchorhead, had also changed how he'd looked at her. She'd had his interest ever since she'd made it through Yinshi alive and had been more than willing to cuss out the cowards that had retreated during the operation. Húxiān was smart and feisty and watching her just punch Clemens without even worrying about the consequences had been...well, it was something. Not to mention how well she had flown during the operation to sink the Alicorn. Cyclops and Strider Squadron were lucky to have her flying with them, and Bandog was lucky just to have met her. It would have been nice if he could know her better, though.

"Hey, Bandog!"

He practically jumped out of his skin when he heard someone call his name, turning his head to see the subject of his thoughts approaching him. What was she doing out here? Húxiān raised an eyebrow, smirking as she stopped a couple of feet away from him and looked down at him. She had the top part of her flight suit zipped down with the sleeves tied around her waist, wearing a tank top in place of that. Earbuds hung around her neck and she held a half drunk water bottle in one hand. Judging from the way she looked when the sun hit her, and how her bangs were wet and sticking to her forehead, he guessed she'd been working out. Or something.

"Lieutenant Hirose...er, Húxiān, I mean. Hi." Bandog cleared his throat and quickly scrambled up from where he'd been sitting, trying not to sound as awkward and uncomfortable as he felt. Where had she even come from? Playing it cool, wanting to come off as not having been startled by her showing up like that, he crossed his arms and relaxed a bit. "I didn't think anyone else was up. After that party last night and all the work you and the others did...I figured you would want to catch up on some rest."

"Nah, that's not really my style. I've gotta do somethin', otherwise I feel like dead weight," Húxiān replied, pausing to take a few gulps from her water bottle. Sighing, she explained, "Most of us got up already. I saw Trigger and Count on their way to the mess hall to join Mage and Golem for breakfast, and I bumped into Avril and Tabloid not long after that. Probably headin' in the same direction. Weird how those four pair off like that, huh? Kinda makes you think there's somethin' going on."

She let out an out of breath chuckle, but Bandog gave a small, hint of a smile at the comment. He suspected that there was some truth to that statement. Tabloid obviously had been pretty awestruck with Mead for some time, and as cold and rude as Mead could be, she seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for him in return. Whether or not they'd do anything about it was a completely different story. Count and Trigger were harder to read, though. They'd struck up quite an interesting friendship towards the end of their time at Spare, and they were a powerful force together in the air. Not to mention how close they'd been since Anchorhead. It didn't seem like they enjoyed being apart for too long. Not to mention that little dance number from last night. Maybe there wasn't anything, maybe there was, but if there was then the two of them were far too stubborn to admit it.

Wanting to change the subject, he racked his brain for something. Anything. "So, I'm assuming you were out for a run?"

"Yeah, actually. I do it every morning. Well, on days I'm not flying, at least. At least then I feel like I'm getting something productive done," Húxiān said, no longer out of breath like she was before. She took another sip from her water, then narrowed her eyes on him. "What're you doing up so early?"

"I wanted to make the best of the silence. I don't get much alone time any more, thanks to those dumbasses," Bandog gestured towards the building where the mess hall was, "and Sarge needed the exercise. So I figured I'd come out here, take some time to think before things got busy." He sighed, looking inside the hangar where Strider Squadron's planes were lined up. Thankfully it wouldn't take much work to get them where they needed to be, but Bandog was still dreading it. He scoffed, smiling to let her know that he meant it in a playful, joking way. "No offense to any of you, but I really hate working on your planes. Maybe once in a while you could bring them back without a bunch of holes in them?"

"Hey, we did good this time! That was our best performance yet!" Húxiān protested, giving his shoulder a shove. She was grinning, and her eyes had a mischievous spark in them. "Those IUN guys did really good, too. I don't think you really have to fix them up at all. They're pretty good. Not as good as Trigger is getting, but they pulled their weight." Húxiān looked out at the runway for a minute, taking in the sunrise as she spoke. With a deep breath, she looked back at Bandog. "Anyways, why don't you come and join all of us for breakfast, and relax a bit? You and Avril have been doing as much work as the rest of us. I'm sure you're tired. Also, I know a couple of people who would be happy to see Sarge again."

"Thanks for the offer, but I might just hang around here until it's time for lunch," Bandog said, not wanting to decline her offer but not really ready for the noise and loud conversations. He really missed Zapland, where everything was quiet and he could sit in an office and just think for a bit. That was about the only thing he missed from Zapland, but it was still important to him nonetheless. "Believe it or not, I've had a crazy last few days. Seeing Clemens again and hearing about McKinsey being out there...it's been crazy. Too much drama from the past that I haven't really had time to unload." Realizing what he'd said, noting the curious and borderline concerned look on Húxiān's face, he tried to continue and lighten the mood with an embarrassed laugh. "Eh, sorry. Just a bunch of bullshit, really. I don't want to sour your victory from the other day."

Húxiān gave him an understanding look, then shrugged. "Truth be told, it ain't really my victory so much as it is Trigger's. I just did my job, and even then I wasn't very good at it."

Bandog frowned. "If I recall correctly, the word you used during the mission was 'pathetic', right?"

"I mean, at the time it was accurate," Húxiān replied, actually defending the comment she'd made during the operation. "Look, I'm not Count. I'm not gonna lie and go on acting like I'm some bigshot. If not for Wiseman and all the help he and Jaeger and Fencer have given me, I'd probably be long gone, stuck in some job I hate back in the city. I've always had other people lookin' out for me, so it never seems like I'm working hard enough to do the same for them." What she was saying sounded...sad. It made Bandog feel sorry for her, but the tone she used was dismissive. Like she didn't care at all. "I did the bare minimum, but I still did my job. Like I've said, Trigger may go about things a bit too recklessly, but I still owe her for Yinshi Valley. After what she did there, you'd think I'd be able to return the favor and not struggle so much during a battle. You get what I'm sayin', right?"

"It's not your fault. You're still beat up from Anchorhead." Bandog nodded to the mark on her head, which was healing nicely. She wasn't as scraped and bruised as she had been, but evidence of the battle was still pretty much fresh. Húxiān huffed and reached up to touch the scratch, scowling at him as if she was angry for him pointing it out. He smirked. "I think you're being a bit too hard on yourself. You're amazing during a fight, on the air and the ground. Taking down those enemy fighters for Trigger yesterday? Decking the brigadier general? And countless other things. I'd say that makes you pretty badass. And I know Trigger and Wiseman wouldn't want you to give all the credit to her. I'd say you've earned the right to be a little proud of yourself."

"You did a good amount of work, too. Helping Avril with the planes and all that," Húxiān said to him, although she seemed a little taken aback by what he'd told her. "But I don't see you celebrating."

"Alright, fine. Be stubborn if you want," Bandog said. "But it doesn't change that you earned that victory as much as everyone else did." He shrugged, crouching down as Sarge came over to get a drink from the water bowl he'd set up for her earlier. Sarge came over to him without having to call her, accepting a couple of pats from him. "Besides, I already gave you my excuse. I have a lot of things to think about. You, on the other hand, don't have an excuse."

Húxiān didn't look too convinced. She rolled her eyes. "And to think you call me stubborn." Although they both seemed to enjoy the minor banter, Húxiān had something else on her mind. "If you're this bothered by that guy, even now that he's behind bars, then why haven't you said anything about it? I mean, we've all asked about your history with him and you brush it off like it's no big deal." She gave him a curious look, but the tone she had switched to using was almost accusing. "So, what gives? Just how badly did you and Clemens get into it?"

Bandog let out a groan, almost frustrated. It would help to get it off his chest, though. Trying to keep his voice level and seem casual, he said to her, "Look, I didn't have an easy time growing up. Only way I thought people would listen is if I used my fists. I went to the military and thought I grew out of it, but when I decided I didn't want to go down the path of a fighter pilot and wanted to try something new, Clemens figured he'd make it hard. He started insulting and threatening me, so I fell back on the only other method that would get people to listen to me." The memory had been a blur for some time now, but retelling it brought a couple of images back to the light. "Broke his nose. He got reprimanded, stripped me of my rank, and told me I would get what I wanted in the end. After that, I was off to Zapland."

"Which is where McKinsey comes in, then?" Húxiān asked.

"Yeah. Kinda funny, isn't it? Two guys that probably would love to see me dead alongside Trigger teaming up," Bandog scoffed, standing up and taking a deep breath. Sarge licked his hand as if to try and comfort him, but he nudged her muzzle away from him and she just sat down beside him instead. "Now I've got one problem taken care of and the other one is back on the loose. I might insult Trigger and the others a lot. They're dumbasses and someone oughta tell them once in a while. But...I dunno. I guess I'd consider them friends, and I know McKinsey hated her. He hated all of them. I'd just hate to see them get hurt more, after all they've been through already."

"That was it? That? You could have said something sooner," Húxiān said, seeming a bit annoyed. "I may not have known you long, but you're a part of our unit, now. And as far as I'm concerned, that makes you a friend. Besides, you think you're the only one that's had a rough life?" He blinked at her. It was his turn to be curious. Gruffly, Húxiān went on. "I spent my whole life having to answer to people like Clemens and getting pushed around by them. I was practically taught from birth how to fight, then tossed out into the world to make do. If it hadn't been for these jackasses I met in the military then I'd probably be dead. But no one can help you if you never ask them for it."

"You're one to talk. From what I've seen, you like to handle things on your own. A lot," Bandog said.

Húxiān stifled a laugh, fighting off a smile. "Yeah, okay, I should take my own advice once in a while. Doesn't change anything. Now, how about you talk to Trigger and the others or just spend time with them while there's still time? It might set your mind at ease. You never know, do ya?"

Bandog looked her up and down for a moment, still caught up in the drastic change their conversation had taken. He did want to be alone, but at the same time it might help him feel better if he at least tried to spend time around people. And he didn't want to let Húxiān down. She was too stubborn to take anything else for an answer, too. "Alright, fine, you win. I'll go with you and join the others."

She gave a smile. Still playful, but not as wide as it had been earlier. "That's just what I wanted to hear. Also nice to know I'm not the only one to...assault Clemens." The two of them gave weak laughs at the dark comment. Húxiān was the first to stop. "You know, when it comes down to it, Wiseman was right. You're a pretty cool guy, Bandog."

He cringed a bit at hearing the name. It was what he was used to, but something about her saying it just didn't sound right. He didn't like it. And besides, he needed to take the step sometime. With...someone. Might as well be her. "Well, as happy as I am to hear that, what say we start over? Drop the callsigns?" Bandog suggested, and Húxiān gave him a look that said to go on. So he did. "My real name's Joshua. Joshua Marsh. I always hated it, but if you want to call me that instead then I don't really mind. Just...do me a favor and don't go spreading it around the base? I'd like to give Count as little ammunition as possible."

Húxiān pretended to think for a moment. "Joshua...not I bad name. I like it. And I won't spread it around base provided you do me one favor."

Bandog furrowed his brow. "And what's that?"

"You stop calling me 'Lieutenant Hirose' whenever you see me," Húxiān replied without even having to think about it. There was some genuine distaste in her voice, and it was made clear that she didn't like all the formalities. "It's 'Húxiān', or if you have to use my real name, then 'Erika'. I really don't like being called Lieutenant. It makes me feel like I'm in trouble, and trust me, I've been in a lot of trouble before." Quickly petting Sarge, then gesturing for him to follow her, she made her way towards the main buildings. "Now c'mon. I'm starving and I'd like to something to eat before Long Caster devours it all."

For just a few seconds, he hesitated, turning and watching her go. And he felt better about the day. Better than he'd felt ever since Clemens had shown up again. He never got to see the somewhat deep and 'gentle' side of Húxiān, but he knew that he wished he saw more of that. It was...oddly refreshing. Looking down at Sarge and Sarge looking up at him, he shook his head and began to follow Húxiān before she asked him why he wasn't coming. And Sarge took off ahead of them without having to be told, probably having some idea of where they were going.

It was looking to be a better day than Bandog had set out to make it, and he had Húxiān to thank for that. Not that he planned on telling her about that any time soon.

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

1300hrs.

"I wish you guys could stay longer," Naomi said as she walked alongside Knocker and Clown, the three of them on their way to the hangar. She'd spent as much time as she could talking with her old squadron and leaders and trying to catch up with them and enjoy their company while she still could. But inevitably it had come to an end, and they were preparing to leave within the hour. The night before had been fun, but she really didn't want them to leave. At the same time, she knew and understood that they had to.

The rest of their wingmates were already at the hangar, Strider and Cyclops having formed an interesting friendship with the rest of Golem Squadron. Tailor and her father spent their time with Kathryn and Grimm, though, and she could tell that, although Tailor seemed to enjoy his family's company and vice versa, he was still feeling left out. Kathryn, in spite of what she had said when Naomi had attempted to apologize, seemed put out and distracted. She and Naomi were still on relatively good terms, but Kathryn had barely said anything to her or acknowledged her with anything more than a nod before looking away. Grimm appeared as though he was aware that something was bothering her, but aside from that he remained as friendly as ever.

As the three of them reached the hangar where Golem and Mage's planes were, Mage Squadron's F-16s were parked outside of the hangar for the minimal maintenance that had to be done on them, while they'd managed to squeeze Golem's planes inside one hangar. Naomi's father stood by while Kathryn and Grimm checked over their aircraft, talking about something or other. The rest of the pilots were standing in the doorway to the hangar, joking and laughing with one another. Naomi was happy that they had hit it off, although it didn't matter much if they were leaving.

"I wish we could stay too, kid. But we've all got jobs to do," Clown replied with a sigh, ruffling her hair with a smirk. "Besides, you and the LRSSG here are takin' on some pretty risky missions. You've got enough to worry about without havin' to look after us, too."

"Haha! You'd be surprised at how good I've had to get at multitasking. If not for Wiseman and Jaeger, I'd honestly feel like an overworked mom," Naomi said, glancing at her friends. She looked back at Knocker and Clown and realized that she wasn't telling them anything new. "But...with how much of a handful me and Boggard and all the others are...well, I guess you guys already know that. And all you have to do is ask Wiseman and my dad. Hell, even Long Caster. I've gotten into my fair share of trouble since I've got here."

"Yeah, we already heard about all of that," Knocker said, and although he crossed his arms and acted like he was about to lecture her, she noticed that he was fighting off a smirk of his own. "Can't say we're not all worried about you and your friends after all the shit that McKinsey put you through, but at least you're somewhere better, now. You really could tone things down a bit, just to prevent any more mistakes." Naomi wanted to roll her eyes, but deep down she knew that he was right. He patted her on the shoulder. "Relax. It isn't like you're in trouble. On a much nicer note, if you ever want to come back to the IUN, I'm sure no one would argue with you. May not be the same, but I know the guys would be happy to have you back."

Naomi, although she would have loved to go back, felt a lump building in her throat. She missed her friends more than anything, but she couldn't leave behind Count and the others. Especially not any time soon. Not answering right away, she turned to look at her group of friends. First she looked over her IUN friends. She'd known them since college and then on through to the IUN. But when she looked over to Count and Tabloid, and Avril and Bandog...not to mention those she met in the LRSSG...it just reminded her of one thing. She and the rest of the guys from Spare had been thrown out like trash and told to try and survive. They only had each other to rely on and without Tabloid and eventually Count and the others' faith in her, she never would have had a reason to keep fighting.

The life they'd briefly led in Spare was something that only they would ever really understand. The LRSSG helped pull them out of it and to some extent they understood. Boggard, Footpad, Faun, Clown, Knocker...they were still her friends and she was grateful for everything her older mentors had taught her. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't want to leave the LRSSG. Ever. It was nice to see her friends again, but she still had things she needed to do to get by. That Mr. X pilot was still out there, but that was all she had left to take care of before she could really start to move on. And she could cross that bridge when she came to it.

As someone said something funny, Tabloid laughed and Avril gave him a shove. Everyone else joined in on the laughing. Naomi saw Count crack a smile and even from where she was she could see his eyes light up and she couldn't help but smile as well. Looking away from them, she finally gave her old flight leads and answer. "As much as I'd love to fly with you guys again, for more than just one operation, I can't leave those idiots. Even if they probably don't need me, I wouldn't know what to do without them," Naomi said. Sighing, she added, "This is my home now, and I can't see myself leaving any time soon. Also, I'm kinda tired of all these transfers. I'm too comfortable to leave now."

Knocker and Clown shared an amused look before Clown chuckled and winked at her. "Oh, I'm sure you are, 'Trig'. I'm sure you are."

Naomi raised an eyebrow and scowled at Clown's use of Count's nickname for her. Especially with the tone he'd taken with it. "And just what do you mean by that, old man?" she asked him, taking full advantage of the fact that they were equals now. She couldn't say whatever she wanted to, but it was easier to take part in some playful banter.

Both men laughed. "Nothin', Trigger. I'm just messin' with you," Clown responded through his laughter, clapping her on the back. Once he'd managed to stop laughing, he added in a more serious tone, "That friend of yours is pretty devoted to you, though. You do a good job of takin' care of one another. Hell, I haven't seen someone that hellbent on protecting their leader since Blaze's number two, Nagase." He glanced at Count and nodded towards him, eyes flicking back to Naomi. "You two keep flyin' like that and watchin' each other's backs and you won't need to worry about a thing."

"Speaking of, why don't you go on and join them?" Knocker suggested. Naomi hesitated, but he motioned for her to leave. "Go. Get outta here and go say goodbye to Boggard and the others. They've been looking forward to seeing you for a while now and we've got some final checks to do anyways. Don't waste your time with us."

With a light shove forward, Naomi complied and left them with a grateful smile. She still wasn't ready to say 'bye' to any of them, but she did feel better about it. It wasn't like there was a question about whether she'd see them again, at least not as much of one as there was when she was sent to prison. Besides, they would all be fine. She looked over her shoulder as Clown and Knocker left to go and speak with Kathryn and Grimm, but continued on her way. She reached the others, Count being the first to notice her and nodding in greeting. Naomi smiled. Yup. Just fine.

Of course, she thought that until she remembered when their next operation was. And that they had a briefing to go to in just a few hours. Well, at least they'd be one step closer to where they needed to be. So, it would work out for them after all. She hoped. For the time being, she wanted to enjoy the company she had while it lasted. Just like Knocker and Clown had told her. Then she could worry about the next operation. Besides, nothing could be worse than what they'd just done. It would be easy. Then again, that's what she'd been thinking for some time, now. Shaking her head, she tuned out of her own thoughts to listen to what Boggard was going on about.

What was the worst thing they'd have to do? After the Alicorn, Naomi was pretty sure she'd done just about everything.