Tomobiki, the Moroboshi home, late afternoon . . .

"I got it!" The front door of the main home then opened, revealing a wide-eyed young girl in a pretty pinafore dress. "Hai?" Moroboshi Yayoi then asked.

Standing before her were a small group of young people standing on the front walkway. All dressed quite nicely though not in flashy or trendy clothes, they bore banners marking them as members of the Democratic Youth League of Japan, the youth wing of the country's native communist party. "Konnichi wa, Yayoi-chan," the leader of the group then said as he bowed politely to her, his companions doing the very same thing. "My name is Tange Kenzō. Hiromi-san is expecting us, I believe."

Yayoi nodded, and then she looked inside. "Papa!"

Footsteps then heralded the arrival of a young woman in jeans and a T-shirt. "Ah, Kenzō-san," Moroboshi Hiromi then said as she bowed politely to him. "I was advised that you and your friends would be coming by the house to visit. Shall we repair to the guest house? There's more room to sit down and relax."

"Hai!"

With that, Hiromi slipped on her outdoor shoes and then – after leaning down to kiss her daughter on the cheek, the sight of which made all the visitors grin in delight – she waved them onto the walkway that connected the main gate of the Moroboshi property to the guest house located to the south of the main home. "So you're here to ask me to do something to convince the government that acquiring an aircraft carrier of all things is not the best thing to do for our space fleet."

Kenzō flustered. "I forgot that you're genetically an Avalonian, Hiromi-san. Is it really that obvious?" he asked as they stepped into the guest house's genkan.

"Sadly so, but please don't be embarrassed by it," the reborn Xiàolíng Emperor of the Latter Hàn Dynasty of old China stated as she gazed in amusement at them as they moved to enter the living room. Awaiting them there was one of Hiromi's lovers, Izuku Mioko, who had a tea set and cups at the ready. Introductions were soon made, the tea was served, and then the reborn Língsī Empress took her place at her beloved's side. "Much that I do understand why your organisation – and your friends in the Kyōsan-tō – are quite against the idea of commissioning Yonaga into the Self-Defence Forces as she does technically skirt close to the edge when it comes to Article Nine of the Constitution, I would like to hear your personal reasons for asking me to persuade the Diet to literally 'hand the ship over' to another country to be used."

Kenzō cleared his throat. "Please forgive me for disagreeing strongly with you at the very start, Hiromi-san, but as far as I can see, the new carrier – Yonaga, you call her? – doesn't 'skirt close to the edge' when it comes to the Constitution. Her presence in the Self-Defence Forces is a clear VIOLATION of the Constitution. We all know how pro-military forces in the Diet simply love to use all sorts of interesting interpretations to allow such forces to continue to exist. This time, however, they have gone too far. We need to make our priorities clear in this matter."

"So what would you ultimately propose?" Hiromi asked.

"The complete withdrawal of all military-like forces from the Earth Defence Forces," another of the visiting League members, Toda Mosui, stated. "In other words, the decommissioning of the Yamato, the Kōtetsu and the Yonaga. They should all be transferred to other nations. Canada, for example, could make use of Yonaga; she has a history of aircraft carrier use stemming from the Second World War. I'm sure Yamato herself could be turned over to the North Koreans to give them the same capabilities as their brethren south of the DMZ in Paekbŏm. As for Kōtetsu, give her to the Chinese. The Americans have five frigates. The Chinese only have two. It's only fair."

A smirk. "The Americans, technically, have only two frigates, Mosui-san," Hiromi corrected. "The Majuro, the Totolom and the Ngerchelchuus – even if they're manned by American crews and are all commissioned ships in the United States Navy – technically represent the Marshall Islands, Micronesia and Palau respectively in the Earth Defence Force thanks to the defence clauses in the Compact of Free Association America signed with those nations." She sighed. "So say we did as you propose. What then? Who protects Japanese interests on Pacifica when migration begins in earnest over the next decade? Are we going to be dependent on the Americans – who have no desire to claim land on that planet – to escort colonisation ships to Pacifica?"

The visitors all blinked. "But still . . . " Kenzō breathed out.

Hiromi sighed. "Kenzō-san, you people have held on to your dreams concerning a peaceful world without the need of standing armed forces for years. Your people have also espoused bringing the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security between Japan and America to a final end, thus allowing Japan to stand on her own two feet in the face of all her neighbours. Those are both good dreams . . . but they don't take into account what's happened to us in the last two years alone." She smirked. "Remember the tsunami that struck the Pacific coast of Tōhoku back in March. While the surface ships of the Self-Defence Forces – yes, including the Hyūga and the Ise – were there to help with humanitarian efforts, it was the Yamato which removed the damaged reactors from the Fukushima facilities and towed them into space to be destroyed in the Sun. If we didn't have the Yamato available, who would have done that for us?"

The visitors all nodded. The television imagery of Yamato tractoring the damaged reactor hulls and surrounding machinery from both Fukushima I and Fukushima II right out of the ground and into space had scored thousands of hits on YouTube within minutes of the videos being posted there. Of course, that action showed that the fifty Type One battleship-carriers were more than just deep space defensive platforms to keep nosy aliens away from Earth. In the wake of Yamato's mission to Fukushima, her Ukrainian sistership Dmitro I. Višnevéc'kij was ordered to remove the wrecked Number Four reactor from the Čornobil' site near the Belarusian border north of Kiїv . . . while at the same time, U.S.S. Arizona was sent to Pennsylvania to take Unit Two away from the Three Mile Island site near Harrisburg for a "sun dump." That – atop advances promoted by Avalonian researchers when it came to the introduction of cheaper and safer nuclear "lukewarm" fusion reactor systems – had sparked a massive increase in the production of modern and safe power plants worldwide, thus negating a large source of greenhouse gasses thanks to the increasing shutdown of coal and other fossil fuel plants.

"True, you're right," one of the women in the visiting group, Osako Shikiko, then stated. "But couldn't Kōtetsu have done something similar were she commissioned?"

"Shikiko-chan!" one of her friends, Ishida Mitoko, gasped.

A nod. "Hai, she could have were she available and not still having her equipment fitted out. What are you proposing, Shikiko-san?" Hiromi asked.

"Simple," Shikiko stated. "There are countries in the world who have outlawed military forces from their nation. Iceland, for example. Despite this, she received a Type Three space frigate which was commissioned into that nation's civil maritime patrol as the Icelandic Coast Guard Starship Óðinn. Why couldn't we have done same with the Kōtetsu? Do we really need ships as large as Yamato, much less Yonaga . . .?"

"What are you saying?" Mitoko snapped.

"I don't like the idea of the Self-Defence Forces, Mitoko-chan," the other woman immediately said. As her companions relaxed, she added, "But I agree with Hiromi-san's words that Japan has every right in the world to throw away the shackles weighing us down and stand on her own two feet without kowtowing to America all the time. Now that we're getting a massive hunk of a whole PLANET for us to settle and develop on our own – with said land no longer being claimed by the Seifukusu Dominion – then it settles not just the question of natural resource supply for our industries in Japan, but also gives our people a chance to grow and expand beyond the borders of our nation. WITHOUT the necessity of intruding on other people's territories." She then held up a finger. "There's already talk of trying to establish an Ainu colony in Shinwakoku." The name Shinwakoku, meaning "new country of the Wa," was the proposed colony name for Japan's land holdings on Pacifica. "Given that it's over fifty light-years from here . . . "

"AND close to the Noukiite frontier, thus guaranteeing its safety," Mosui said. "There's no need to worry about any sort of grand defensive strategy for the planet."

"Can we be sure of that?"

Eyes locked on Hiromi. "But the Noukiites are friendly to us!" Kenzō stated.

"True. But remember that Pacifica is also not too far away from Zephyrus," the reborn emperor stated. "And while the majority of Zephyrites really don't care about what happens to us, there are those on that planet who don't like the idea of a race of designer clones having privileged access to technology of their 'ancient homeworld.'" She made finger-quotes on saying that. "People really don't know this, Kenzō-san, but ever since the official handover of the former Seifukusu colony worlds to our joint control, delegations from Zephyrus – mostly arising from their Scripturalist Order – have been bombarding both New York City and Suchkyuk demanding that all the ships of the Earth Defence Force be turned over to their control." As the visitors all gaped, she then asked, "Why? Simple reason. Our ships have the ability to travel to Sagussa without being stopped by the Galactic Barrier. Zephyrite ships are not so advanced and they're still some decades away from getting to that point. And I've been told that the leaders of the Scripturalist Order can easily make the most religiously devout zealot here on Earth look quite tame in comparison." She then crossed her arms. "So say in the future, the Shinwakoku colony is established and developing its own starship construction industry. What's to stop Zephyrite pirates from absconding with ships?"

"Why would they want to do that?" Mosui asked.

"Sagussa is currently – or so latest intelligence states – inhabited by transplanted residents of many planets from across the local cluster," Hiromi answered. "Including people from Earth." She decided not to go into any detail concerning HOW those people had been resettled there; even now with her most trusted advisors urging her to send a ship to that world, the concept of what her own brother had encountered when he was a child of six still bothered her. "However, when this migration occurred, Zephyrus – as well as Avalon and Kurakoa, who all are descent genetically from the race that once lived on Sagussa – were not solicited for potential migrants. To the leaders of the Scripturalist Order, this is a massive affront to the Zephyrite race as a whole and cannot be tolerated." A smirk. "In much the same manner as how some in the Middle East view the existence of Israel, even now with Jadiid ash-Shām being opened for settlement by the Syrians, the Palestinians, the Lebanese and the Jordanians."

"They're religious fanatics, you mean," Shikiko mused.

A nod. "They are. And because we Avalonians do not subscribe to their view of the Universe, we're seen as 'heretics' deserving to either be excommunicated – which, in the Zephyrite lexicon, means 'executed' – or be forcibly converted into adhering to their faith." As her visitors all made faces on hearing that, she then said, "Given what many sisters had endured at the hands of the Niphentaxians, having others come dictate how they'll live does not sit well with ANY Avalonian. And it shouldn't sit well with any Terran regardless of faith or belief. I personally will be damned to the lowest pit of Hell if I allow such people to get away with anything that could see us dictated to in that fashion." She sighed. "That is why – knowing how much of a debate her inclusion into the Maritime Self-Defence Forces would unleash – I was more than agreeable to the idea of allowing Yonaga to be commissioned. Yes, it was possible to turn her over to the control of the South Koreans. They're now experimenting with helicopter carriers with the launch of their Tokdo-class amphibious assault command ships. But when the debate over who would get what type of ship happened, the governments in Sŏul and P'yŏng'yang were more interested in getting missile cruisers to act as close combat escorts to Paekbŏm. Because of that, they were willing to trade off the chance to get an aircraft carrier to us. The Mongolians were not interested in such a ship and the Taiwanese have no desire to gain such a large ship in the face of possible objections from Běijīng." A shrug. "In essence, we won out."

"I still don't like it," Kenzō stated.

"Not that many people should like it."

Eyes locked on Mioko. "What do you mean?" Mitoko asked.

The reborn empress smiled. "As a tōshi, I'm not as much into current politics as you people are," she admitted before sipping her tea. "But I know intrinsically that there are monsters out there in Creation. Who claim to be 'civilised' . . . but are prepared to do ANYTHING, unleash ANY sort of horror, on innocent people wanting to live their lives in peace and harmony within themselves and with their fellow man. In my first life, I lived – even briefly – through such a horror. And I've met many Avalonians who lived in a nightmarish existence for years because they were seen simply as machines. Do you have Avalonian friends, Mitoko-san? People who were former slaves of the Niphentaxians?" At the other woman's nod, Mioko smiled. "So do I. And much that they are finally getting over what they were forced through before Ganzo-ojiisan, my beloved, her siblings and our friends from Noukiios and Yehisril liberated them from such a horror, there is still their pain and their memories. And the determination to not ever let it happen again." Another sip of her tea, and then she smiled. "Many Avalonians who moved to Japan voted for your friends in the Kyōsan-tō in the elections two years ago, didn't they? Did they do that because they wanted to make fools of your friends in the Diet? No. They did it because you people are all dreamers. And you deserve to continue dreaming of an egalitarian and just society that is at peace with itself and with other nations. That's what won the votes in the election. But they're also realists. They know monsters are out there. And they are prepared to stand and fight those monsters . . . so you can all continue to dream." A sigh. "Captain Umezu and his crew on Yamato – much less Commander Kaieda and his crew on Kōtetsu – serve on their ships to give you all the chance to do that. Is that so wrong in the end?"

"Is it RIGHT to promote the same sort of thinking that killed three million of our people – to say anything of millions more elsewhere – seventy years ago?"

Hiromi's and Mioko's eyes then locked on the man in the very back of the crowd. Perhaps the most handsome man of the group that were visiting the reborn emperor and empress of the Latter Hàn, Miura Motokata was a graduate student at Tōkyō Medical University two years away from being properly accredited as a medical doctor and commencing his internship. "No, it is not right to promote such a thing, Motokata-san," Hiromi stated. "But it is also right – the basic nature of democracy, in fact – to allow ALL who desire a say in the course of government to be heard. When the question of Yonaga being commissioned was first proposed in February, I asked ALL of the members of the House of Representatives in the Diet to consult with their constituents to learn of their opinions concerning the commissioning of such a vessel into the Self-Defence Forces. The response was quite strong even if there were reservations. And the leaders of the Self-Defence Forces are fully aware of those reservations. There is no need to fear the possible resurgence of the type of radical militarism that led us into a losing war against the Americans seventy years ago, Motokata-san."

A sigh. "Don't be sure of that, Hiromi-san." He then stood. "Excuse me."

"Moto-kun . . .!" Shikiko gasped as she moved to stop him.

He slipped around her before stepping into the genkan and slipping on his shoes. Silence reigned over the living room as he walked out of the house. After a minute, Kenzō sighed. "Forgive him, please," he then begged his hosts. "Motokata-kun has his reasons for standing against any sort of overt militarism coming back to Japan."

"Why is that?" Mioko asked. "The shame he felt was like a tsunami."

"With reason," Shikiko stated, her voice hollow. "His great-great-grandfather, Colonel Miura Daisuke, was an officer in Unit 731 before and during the war." As Hiromi and Mioko winced on hearing of the infamous biological/chemical warfare research unit, she added, "He was one of many who were given a 'get out of jail free' card by the Americans after the war ended and the Soviets wanted to get their hands on General Ishii and his friends to drag them to Xabárovsk for war crimes trials. He was employed at the American chemical warfare facility in Maryland for a while until he accidentally breathed in toxic gases he was working on in an experiment one day in the early 1950s. The rest of the family pretended it didn't happen, but when he found out . . . "

"That poor man," Mioko whispered . . .

Stupid people! They don't understand! They don't see the danger . . .!

Shuddering back the scalding anger he felt at the total failure of his friends to make the leader of the Earth Defence Force bend when it came to Yonaga – and yes, he KNEW where the name had actually come from! – and her "place" in the Self-Defence Forces, Motokata could only breathe out as he make his way towards the Tomobiki-chūō JR station so he could take the ride back to Shinjuku and his apartment. Much that he was a very passionate man when it came to medicine, he was just as passionate when it came to politics . . . and he was one of a growing number of people across Japan who were finding themselves looking at their culture and nation, gazing back into their homeland's blood-soaked past and feeling nothing but shame at the cavalier attitude so many had when it came to confronting that past, learning the lessons of that past and building a future society that acknowledged AND accepted what brutality the natives of this land had unleashed on countless millions across eastern Asia seven decades before.

The ice . . . the ice . . . it will come from the ice! The seventh one . . .!

The medical student shuddered as he once again remembered the weak voice of his own great-great-grandfather – crippled into a bare husk of a human being thanks to an accident experimenting with the very same chemicals that had been used to murder helpless civilians years before – after Motokata had been brought to the Juntendō University Hospital ten years ago by his mother Noriko to be introduced to the former Imperial Army colonel. And when he found out what Miura Daisuke had done when he had served in the Kantō Army . . .! How could Okā-san and Otō-san, much less Ojii-san and Obā-san, just IGNORE what that creature had done? Pretend it never happened at all . . .!

"You look a little miffed, Motokata-kun."

He stopped on hearing that voice, and then he turned, a pained smile crossing his face. "There was no hope of moving either of them, Kathryn-san."

Walking up to him from a nearby yatai was a very beautiful middle-aged woman who clearly was an American-raised Japanese by ethnicity. While Suzuki Kathryn was a native of Hawai'i – she hailed from the town of Mililani on O'ahu – she did have relatives who lived near Hollywood, which is where Motokata had first assumed she hailed when they met three months ago. Her physical looks – which were a perfect mix of classic Oriental in the face and drop-dead gorgeous American supermodel in the body – were enough to make an elderly retiree excited, which no doubt helped in missions for her employers across the world, ranging from the co-workers of the infamous Carlos the Jackal to Mu'ammar al-Qaḏḏāfī.

He knew what she was.

He didn't care.

Suzuki Kathryn and her friends were a means to an end.

She looked on him the very same way.

He knew that and accepted it.

As did she.

It made things very easy in the end run.

"Well, that's to be expected," Kathryn quietly breathed out as she slipped her arm around his as she walked him down the street, her almost-black eyes scanning around to ensure they weren't being snooped upon. "But like it or not, my employers are starting to get impatient. We'll have to move hard on them sooner or later."

Motokata blinked. "They're tōshi, remember . . . "

A dismissive snort. "No one's invulnerable from a bullet. Or a knife," she advised.

He took that in, and then he nodded . . .

Merciful Allāh be praised! It's been SO long, Kathryn . . .!

Watching the beautiful terrorist walk her companion towards the subway station, the casually-dressed woman in the knit sweater and jeans – with a scarf covering most of her long raven hair and a pair of sunglasses over her dark brown eyes – could only smile before she turned back to enjoy the well-cooked shrimp okonomiyaki that had been prepared for her by a smiling chef at one of the yatai set up close to the entrance of the Tomobiki Ginza. How much have you changed over the years, I wonder, Jawna bint-Hasan 'Amawāsi' min-Alamūt Jalil wondered to herself as she glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Suzuki Kathryn and her companion turn the corner and head up the stairs leading into the local urban train station. Or have you changed at all . . .?

"Excuse me."

Jawna perked on hearing that calm voice, and then she turned to look . . . before her eyes then turned down to find herself gazing on a young girl dressed now in a child's kimono and hakama. Noting the chestnut hair and lavender eyes – and the magatama earring hanging off the left lobe, coloured silver to mark this child as B-rank amongst her peers – the native of the eastern Libyan city of Al Baiḍā' could only smile on recognising the reborn Xiàoxiàn Emperor of China's Latter Hàn Dynasty. "«Young Mistess Kanami, are your parents aware that you're away from the house?»" she then asked in literate Mandarin, which was one of several languages she could speak beyond her native Arabic.

Kanami blinked, her eyebrow arching in surprise on hearing this woman speak that way, and then she sighed. "«Your ki is bleeding out a little too much, Lìngzǐ,»" she advised the older woman. "«Most people here in Tomobiki would not be able to sense it, but I can. You're literally a beacon in the eyes of Zūngūmā . . . »"

"«Kanami, what did I tell you about using such terms with me?»"

Kanami jerked on hearing that toneless voice, and then she turned as a familiar woman dressed in midnight black from neck to toe came up. "Oba-sama . . .!"

A sigh. "Never mind," Negako breathed out before her dark eyes fixed on Jawna for a moment before she turned to gaze towards Tomobiki-chūō station. "«A friend of yours, Jawna?»" she asked in Arabic. "«From before you became part of the Asāsiyyin?»"

The visitor from Libya – who had become surprisingly pale on noting who had just come up to join them – shakily nodded. "«Yes, Great Mistress . . . »"

Negako's eyes flashed. "«Do NOT call me that.»"

Jawna jerked. "«But Great Lady . . .!»"

"«Did Hirosuke ask for such respect from your predecessors when he came to Alamūt to teach the servants of Hasan-e Sabbāh his Art?»" Negako then wondered.

The visitor from Libya blinked, and then she blushed. "«No . . . »"

"«Then why expect me to demand differently?»"

Silence fell as Jawna considered that, and then she bowed her head. "«I humbly beg your forgiveness, Lady Negako,»" she then apologised. "«I was overwhelmed by your presence and lost control of myself for a moment. Your noble reborn niece also shines with the great power gifted unto her in her first life by the Immortal One's blood.»"

A sigh. "«Do not do it again,»" Negako then stated. "«Why are you here?»"

"«The ship you named Yonaga.»"

The ninjutsu grandmaster's eyebrow arched . . .

Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson (near Anchorage, Alaska), an hour before midnight (local time) . . .

"You actually fly at this time of night?"

A smirk crossed the face of the Canadian army sergeant, who was standing right next to her sleek mount as the grumbling American navy ensign came up to her. "Ensign Ross, the CSF-148 is designed as a space fighter," Pilot Sergeant Judy McLeod stated as she exchanged salutes with Ensign Sarah Ross. "Translation: She can fly in ALL weather conditions both in atmosphere and up in space. Weren't you briefed?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Yes, I was. But as I recall, Sergeant . . . "

"Pilot Sergeant, please," Judy corrected her.

The ensign jerked. "Sorry, Pilot Sergeant," she said, trying not to grumble too much at the veteran Canadian pilot's insistence on using the rank structure unique to that nation's reformed army tactical aviation forces. "But as I recall, your job is to support troops on the ground from rough airfields. No different than what an A-10 Warthog pilot does with his machine. Why make the Camel a space fighter like the Arrow and the Starfire are? Not to mention the Ghostrider and the Valkyrie?"

Judy smiled as she waved the other woman up the ladder into the cockpit. "Because you simply never know what might be coming down the pike to hurt us, Ensign," she stated as Sarah climbed up and moved to sit down in the weapons controller's seat. Like the CSF-196 Starfire – which had been adopted by Bombardier Aerospace even though all models of the starship-launched space fighter were built in space – the Magellan Aerospace/Sopwith Canada CSF-148 Camel III had been built from the start to be a two-crew aircraft: A pilot up front doing the flying and navigation elements of a mission and a weapons controller – what the United States military designated as a "weapons systems officer" – in the back handling the ordnance load. As Judy's normal weapons controller, Corporal Kelley Stuart, climbed up to help the ensign get secured in, she added, "The design philosophy of the Camel III is no different than the Camel II's design philosophy back in the late 1930s. Help the poor fools on the ground survive so they can go home to Mom and Dad by breaking tanks, but be prepared to mix it up in a knife fight with the enemy's air force should they come out to play."

Sarah nodded in understanding. Just two years fresh out of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, she was a restricted line intelligence officer by training, following in the footsteps of her father Brent, mother Pamela and grandfather Theodore. But like other officers currently serving in the United States Navy – as with other military services across Earth – the last year had seen a massive upheaval in employment opportunities in a dimension that couldn't have been imagined outside the realm of science fiction. Currently assigned to Pre-Commissioning Unit Enterprise (SCV-81), the administrative formation that would eventually form the "plank owner" crew of America's first space aircraft carrier in two months' time, Ensign Sarah Ross was spending time acquainting herself with all aspects of future joint operations in the Earth Defence Force, both within the United States armed forces and with the armed forces of her fellow nations in the North Pacific Division of the UNEDF. Including that of her northern neighbour.

"There you go, Miss Ross," Kelley stated with a smile as she secured the four-point seat belt around the ensign's flight suit-covered body. "Now don't you be making etchi eyes at the pilot sergeant," she then said as she wagged her finger at the other woman. "She's got a girlfriend back in Dundurn who gets jealous easy."

"THANK you, Corporal!" Judy said as she slipped herself into the pilot's seat.

Kelley laughed before she stepped over to help the pilot sergeant buckle in. Trying not to shake her head too much at the antics between her current mission commander and her nominal number-two, Sarah then looked right to see her classmate from Annapolis – and would-be girlfriend – Ensign Leigh Rhyne boarding into the rear seat of another Camel III that was normally flown by Judy's wingmate, Pilot Warrant Officer Charlene Sanderhausen. Leigh, a native of Mississippi who had just graduated from the Advanced Strike pipeline of naval aviator training at Naval Air Station Meridian, had volunteered immediately to transition to the Starfire and be assigned to one of the squadrons to be soon flying from the new Enterprise as a pilot in the soon-to-transform Strike Fighter Squadron 136 (the Knighthawks), an element of Carrier Air Wing One, which would begin transitioning from atmospheric naval operations to space operations as soon as the current "Big E" based out of Norfolk was decommissioned and VFA-136 could then officially be redesignated SVF-136 (Space Fighter Squadron 136).

As Charlene's weapons controller, Trooper Elaine Francis, moved to buckle Leigh in, Sarah sighed as she took a moment to review the performance statistics of the Camel III. An impulse pulsejet-powered trans-atmospheric tactical fighter, CSF-148s physically looked like twin-rudder versions of the Eurofighter Typhoon, though they were painted a mixture of mottled green over sky blue on the underside, low-visibility Canadian Forces markings on the wings, hull and rudders. Like the Starfire, the Camel III – named in honour of the Sopwith F.1 Camel of World War One and her less-known spiritual "son" from the Second World War, the Sopwith Canada So-48 Camel II – had hard points for nearly 12,000 kilograms of munitions that could be retracted into the hull, thus making the surfaces flush and helping make the fighter almost invisible to normal tracking radar. Capable of Mach 2.5 in atmosphere, the Camel III – once in the near-vacuum of space – could accelerate to a quarter of the speed of light and fly out to the orbit line of the Moon if required. Of course, as the ship was designed as a ground-support aircraft, the Camel III didn't have the longer range of its "pure" air force cousin, the Bombardier Aerospace/Avro Canada CF-105 Arrow II planetary defence space fighter now being used by squadrons of Air Command based out of Cold Lake and Bagotville. Nor could it be deployed on most Earth Defence Force ship models.

She then jolted as she heard the canopy come down and lock in over the cockpit. "Okay, we're sealed and pressurised," Judy announced over the intercom. "Garb Delta-Two-Delta to Two-Bravo, communications check, over," she then called out.

"Delta-Two-Delta, Two-Bravo, coming in five-by-five," Charlene replied back as Sarah watched the canopy of the pilot warrant officer's ship close and lock up. "Elmendorf Tower, this is Garb Delta-Two-Bravo with two, ready to taxi, over."

"Delta-Two-Bravo, Elmendorf Tower, you are clear to taxi to Runway 6/24 via Taxiway Two," the air traffic controller at the base tower replied.

"Roger. Trot out in single file, Two-Delta."

"Roger that, Two-Bravo," Judy said as she eased the brake off.

The two space fighters began to wheel out of the flight line by the guest hangar being used by D Squadron of the 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry Regiment (Air) for their first-ever exercise deployment as back-up NORAD aerospace sovereignty patrol to the American Air Force's 3d Space Fighter Wing, which had transitioned from the F-22 Raptor to the F-24 Ghostrider space fighter at the start of the current year after NORAD had been given the extra tasking of helping protect cislunar space over North America by the President of the United States and the Prime Minister of Canada. Remembering that, Sarah turned to gaze on two of the Ghostriders – which resembled a more rounder and stealthier version of the fictitious MiG-31 Firefox stealth fighter from the 1982 Clint Eastwood film based on the novel published in 1977 by the late Craig Thomas – at the parking line for the 90th Space Fighter Squadron (the Dicemen) off Taxiway Two. Gazing on them, Sarah grinned; the Voenno-vozdušnye Sily Rossii received as their own space superiority fighter a similar-looking aircraft which was instantly adopted by the Mikojan i Gurevič Aircraft Corporation as the MiG-37 . . . and was promptly assigned the NATO reporting name "Firefox" when it was taken on strength on New Year's Day with the 19th Space Fighter Aviation Regiment based in Míllerovo near Rostov-na-Donu.

Must have been a fan of the film, the ensign mused to herself.

Soon enough, the two CSF-148s had made their way to the western end of Runway 6/24, which pointed out towards Knik Arm, one branch of Cook Inlet on whose shores Alaska's largest city was located. Turning onto the three kilometre-long runway, the two Canadian Army aircraft waited as Charlene called up to the tower for clearance to roll. Once given, the two Camel IIIs tore down the runway, lifting off the ground just as they crossed Runway 16/34. Immediately, Charlene pulled her stick back and to the left, allowing her machine to climb dizzily high into the sky and arc northward towards Fairbanks to commence a lazy circle over the whole of America's largest state and the waters bordering her. Keeping close to her starboard wing, Judy matched her troop warrant's movements with precision born of years of working together on various airplanes since both women had joined the militia Saskatchewan Cavalrymen as armoured crewmen a decade before . . . which for the former senior regiment of the Royal Canadian Corps of Air Cavalry, was just a convenient cover to allow them to pilot Huey and Twin Huey helicopters as auxiliary tactical aviation support to Land Forces Western Area.

Remembering that, Sarah had to smirk as she recalled what she had been briefed on when it came to how the Air Cavalry regiments had survived the Unification of the Canadian military into one service in 1968 and kept the flying skills of its officers and non-commissioned members alive and well. Playing an interesting game of blind man's bluff with the bean-counters in Ottawa, regimental commanders of those units that were not placed on the Supplementary Order of Battle – in effect, disbanded in all but name – in 1970 made sure that "unofficial flying troops" of four helicopters were kept in place with all the surviving squadrons across the nation. This ensured that pilot-qualified cavalry officers, warrant officers and sergeants – even if they were officially classified as either armoured or infantry officers or soldiers – could be there should a general mobilisation be ordered and tactical aviation forces were increased from the standing six squadrons of the Air Force's 1 Wing to whatever was required for a wartime army.

When the Avalonians migrated to Earth in the late winter of 2010, those who moved into Canada – like their sisters elsewhere – began flocking into recruiting centres to increase the number of personnel serving in reserve military units from mere cadre levels to full wartime fighting strength. For the former Air Cavalry regiments, they soon got champions with the elder mothers of various communities, who began to press the Ministry of National Defence into allowing such units to assume their traditional role as Army tactical aviation forces. In the wake of the Yaminokuni mission that summer – which had been supported by an all-Militia armoured brigade group from across the Dominion! – the Canadian Parliament passed a special resolution restoring the Royal Canadian Corps of Air Cavalry to the active order of battle as a sub-group of the Air Operations Branch, which was the personnel group for all "air force" trades. By the turn of the year, the former squadrons of 1 Wing had been administratively stood down to be replaced by six active regiments of the Air Cavalry. One of those units, 427 "Lion" Special Operations Aviation Squadron based out of Petawawa northwest of Ottawa in Ontario, was shifted west to the former army airfield in Dundurn, south of Saskatoon, and officially reborn as the Regular Force element of the 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry Regiment (Air), which was immediately assigned to the new special forces formation being headquartered at Shilo in Manitoba, the 6th Canadian Brigade Group (Light).

Once that was done and the Regular Force Regiment was stood up on New Year's Day 2011, it was simply natural for members of the Militia Regiment – officially, the 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry Regiment (Air) (Militia), headquartered in Saskatoon and assigned administratively as a unit of the 38th Canadian Brigade Group – to volunteer to spend time on Class C service while new pilots and air cavalry troopers began passing through the just-formed Air Cavalry School at Dundurn. At least forty percent of the part-time pilots who had come to fly for their regiment's Regular Force element were women . . . and most of them these days were Terran-turned-Avalonians; the first group of Terran-form Avalonian pilots wouldn't be taken on strength for another eighteen months as they were still undergoing Basic Flying Training at the NATO Flight Training Centre, based out of 15 Wing in Moose Jaw, west of the Saskatchewan capital of Regina. The two pilots Sarah and Leigh were currently flying with today had become Avalonians sometime after their home regiment had been effectively brought back to flight status the previous August.

She then blinked as the glare of a mid-summer sun seemed to blast through the canopy of her aircraft as the two Camel IIIs zoomed up and over the Arctic Circle and the Yukon River near the former Hudson's Bay Company trading post at Fort Yukon. "Damn!" she breathed out as she watched her helmet's visor darken. "That's bright!"

"Mid-summer, Ensign," Judy said. "And we're right now at Angels Ninety. Even if we were below the Circle, we can see the sun even if sunset was a few hours ago."

Angels Ninety? Ninety thousand feet? Sarah thought as her skin paled significantly before she turned to gaze out the cockpit at the sea of clouds and the mixed mountainous and tundra terrain of northern Alaska FAR below. "How . . .?"

"Do we get off if we have to eject?" the pilot sergeant asked, a flash of amusement in her voice. "Your flight suit's got a materialiser locator beacon on it. Instant something happens and we have to get out, I activate the beacon and the nearest materialiser would whisk us out before the plane decompresses. Same code as the law of the sea, Ensign. Space is a hell of a lot less forgiving than the open ocean."

A sigh. "Good point."

"Chill out, Sarah!" came a familiar twang-tinged voice over the communications unit. "You volunteered to go serve on the new Big E, so you're gonna be in space!"

"Yeah, but I think I'd prefer to have several million tonnes of ship around me in lieu of flying on a fighter, Leigh," Sarah called back.

Both Air Cavalry pilots laughed. "It's hard to get used to, Ensign," Charlene then called out from her CSF-148. "Don't worry about it, though. The two bright little kids who designed these birds made them as survivable as they could conceive of. Hasn't been a single accident with a Starfire, Star Flare or Space Dhow yet . . . "

"That's the point, Pilot Warrant: Yet!" Sarah insisted.

A chime echoed through the two Camel IIIs. "Dóbryj Den', Továrišči!" a cheerful woman's voice echoed over the communications unit. "Beautiful night for flying, da?"

Both Air Cavalry pilots laughed. "What are you doing up here, Ira?" Charlene then challenged. "I thought your shift wasn't until Monday! Your time, that is!"

Another laugh. "Ah, Tanja got a case of stomach poisoning!" Pilot Senior Sergeant Irina Vjačeslavovna Sergejeva replied back from the cockpit of her MiG-37, which was currently at sixty kilometres altitude over the forests and mountains of the Kamčatskij Peninsula far to the southwest of the two Canadian aircraft. A founding member of the 46th (Taman Guards) Space Fighter Aviation Regiment – given the same regimental number and name as the legendary all-women's night bomber unit that had been respectfully nicknamed the Nachthexen by the Germans during the Second World War – Irina was currently based with her co-workers of the 587th (Marína Mixájlovna Raskóva) Space Fighter Squadron out of Elizovo Airport near Petropávlovsk-Kamčátskij. "She should get over it soon enough. So what are you doing up in the sky this late at night, Charlene?"

"Doing test flights for would-be crewmen for the new Enterprise while we're busy being back-up pilots for the 3rd Wing at Elmendorf, Ira," the pilot warrant officer from Saskatoon replied. "One's a Starfire pilot, the other's an intel girl."

"Ah! Good! Good! More the . . . "

Another chime. "Hello! Is this the space fighter frequency?" a sober woman's voice called out in Russian . . . which was instantly translated into English for the benefit of the two Air Cavalry pilots and the two American naval officers.

"Da! This is Pilot Senior Sergeant Irina Vjačeslavovna Sergejeva, 587th Space Fighter Squadron, 46th Space Fighter Aviation Regiment out of Elizovo. Who's this?"

"Ah, sorry about that, Comrade Pilot Senior Sergeant," the strange woman then apologised. "This is Senior Lieutenant Valentína Ivánovna Tjútina of the Providénskij District Police. I've been trying to contact someone in Xabárovsk to help with a missing surface boat and two of my officers, but they won't answer me, so I'm trying you."

The people in the two Camel IIIs all tensed. "What's wrong, Comrade Senior Lieutenant?" Irina then demanded. "You're missing two officers?"

"Da! And a fishing boat one of the officers owned that she allowed us to use to patrol the shores in the district, especially whenever the eco-tourists come here to live with nature!" the police lieutenant called back. "Both of them are Kosmičeskie Angely, born as such and adopted by two former Great Patriotic War veterans. One of those good fellows is Senior Sergeant Pável Petróvič Gógol' from Ust'-Ilímsk; the man who lives by the river where that gold deposit was discovered some years ago."

"Oh!" Irina gasped. "Grandpapa Paša, you mean! The sniper who won two gold stars on the long walk to Berlin! Da, I know of him! His daughter works for you?"

"Da!" Valentína replied. "Maša – that's her name, Maria Gógol'a – went out with her friend Ekaterina Lébed'a to do a survey of the area around Ytygran and Arakamčečen to allow their dataPADDs to do a full scan of the environment so that if we have to go rescue some damned fool tree-hugger who gets marooned on the islands near our town, we don't have to waste time trying to find them. But we lost contact with both of them just after lunch, when that little earthquake hit, the ones the Americans are reporting occurred near the Fox Islands today. And we can't raise them."

A sigh. "Understood. I can do a detailed pass over the area. Do you have DNA scans of Comrades Gógol'a and Lébed'a so we can concentrate the search?"

"Da, transmitting up now."

"Spasíbo!" A pause, and then, "Got it! Okay, I'll head on down to look."

"Spasíbo, Továrišč! It is appreciated!"

"I'll come for some vódka from you one day, Comrade Senior Lieutenant!"

"And I will have a bottle of Jurij Dolgorukij waiting for you, Comrade Pilot Senior Sergeant," the police lieutenant promised from her office.

"You are kul'turnyj, Valentína Ivánovna!"

"As are you, Irina Vjačeslavovna!"

"I'll call in when I have some results."

"Spasíbo, Továrišč!"

The link with Providénija was then cut. "Ira, we overheard all that," Charlene then said. "Do you want us to provide some top cover for you when you go down?"

"Would you mind?" Irina asked.

"I can help, too!"

The pilots of both Camel IIIs blinked. "Who's this?" Irina demanded.

"Sarah Ross, Ensign, United States Navy," Sarah responded. "My grandfather Ted owns a cargo boat out of Teller on the Seward Peninsula, Pilot Senior Sergeant. He has a dataPADD on his ship, the Sparta. He might be out on the water now."

"Call him," the Russian pilot then bade.

"Alright! Um, Pilot Sergeant . . .?"

"Link's open," Judy announced.

A sigh. "Ensign Sarah Ross calling Captain Ted Ross on Sparta, come in . . . "

The Bering Sea, three hundred kilometres north of Kiska Island . . .

"Captain!"

"What is it?"

"Sir, your granddaughter's calling on the PADD!"

Hearing that, the aged and white-haired sailor – Theodore Ross, known as "Ted" informally and having earned the nickname "Trigger" in his youth while serving in the United States Navy during the Pacific side of World War Two – blinked as he scanned the dark skies ahead of his old cargo ship, and then he sighed as he walked into the wheelhouse, which was currently manned by helmsman Todd Edmundson and engineer's mate Mark Jurovic. Heading over to the iPad-shaped device now affixed to the shelf in front of his chair, he was quick to note the blinking icon on the screen, and then he smiled as he tapped it; Mark had seen the message on it, but hadn't responded. "Sparta, Ross," the retired naval captain then said as he sat in his chair. "Where the devil are you, Sarah?"

"Believe it or not, at Angels Ninety over the North Cape of Alaska flying on a Camel III piloted by one of the 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry, Grandpa," Sarah replied back, which made the elderly sailor laugh. "Where are you right now? Are you out at sea?"

"North of Kiska, heading northeast towards home after delivering some parts to the Coast Guard Station on Attu from Anchorage," Ted replied. "What's wrong?"

"How far north?"

Hearing that, Todd looked at the computer navigation plot posted in front of the helm platform. "One hundred and ninety-six nautical miles north of Sirius Point, sir."

"One-nine-six nautical north of Sirius Point, Sarah," Ted relayed.

"Oh, darn!"

The older sailor tensed. "What's wrong?" he repeated himself.

A sigh. "Two Russian policewomen were on a fishing boat out of Providénija doing a look-around of both Ytygran and Arakamčečen Islands with a dataPADD to prepare for the eco-tourist season. They haven't called in to their station for a bit and their boss got so worried, she called up to one of the pilots flying a Firefox on local space patrol out of Petropávlovsk-Kamčátskij. She's going down to take a look . . . "

Ted squeezed his eyes closed. "Both Avalonians, I take it?"

"Yeah . . . "

"Damn!" he snapped. Like many people across the planet, he had been both astonished and sickened when he had learned the full story of the Cosmic Angels; Ted rather liked the English translation of the Russian Kosmičeskie Angely when it came to give a name to the race of unbelievably beautiful and eager bioroid women from the stars. While he didn't have one as a member of Sparta's crew, there were Avalonian-Americans living all across Alaska, including Teller. While Ted had pretty much got over the death of his wife years ago and felt himself beyond the need to seek out a new wife, he still found himself often gaping in awe at such incredible visions of physical perfection. And given how helpful that race had been since they had moved en masse to Earth the previous winter . . .! "What's our speed, Mister Jurovic?" he asked.

"We're doing half-ahead on both engines now, Captain," Mark replied. "We can probably coax a few more knots out of her, but Arakamčečen Island's over five hundred miles away, sir. It'd be over a day before we got anywhere close to that place!"

"Well, we're heading up in that direction anyway," Ted stated. "Sarah?"

"Yeah, Grandpa?"

"It'd be over a day before we got anywhere close to Arakamčečen," the older man warned his granddaughter. "We'll try to coax some more knots out of her, but it'll be quite a while before we even got close to the entrance of the Bering Strait."

"Any other ships in the area?" Sarah said, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Ted winced; Sarah had always looked up to him as a sort of invincible old man of the sea. But like it or not, Sparta was an old tramp freighter; she wasn't a fast boat. "We can call out and ask. We'll do that right now," he promised.

Her voice brightened. "Thanks, Grandpa!"

"I'll call the Coast Guard and get them alerted!"

"Damn! Should've thought of that! Thanks, Grandpa!"

He chuckled. "You get home safe, Sarah," he warned.

"Yeah! Ensign Ross, out!"

"Sparta out," Ted said as he tapped the PADD to close the link, and then he took a deep breath before gazing at the man by the engine telegraph. "Mister Jurovic?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Have Mister Whitener come to the bridge, please?"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

"And bring her full ahead on both engines."

"Aye, sir!"

The telegraph was rung to FULL AHEAD before Mike picked up the nearby growler phone and dialled a number. "Captain wants you on the bridge, Hugh."

"On my way," the ship's first officer, Hugh Whitener, replied . . .

To be continued . . .

WRITER'S NOTES:

1) The Compact of Free Association is a treaty signed between the United States of America and three of its former possessions in the western Pacific region: the Federated States of Micronesia (which became independent in 1986), the Republic of the Marshall Islands (independent the same year) and the Republic of Palau (which became independent in 1978, but didn't enter in a Compact with America until 1993). Part of the stipulations of the Compact is that the United States is in charge of all defensive needs concerning its former territories. In conjunction with that, citizens from the Federated States, the Marshall Islands and Palau could enter the United States armed forces without the necessity of obtaining a work visa. However, as they are not American citizens, citizens of the three republics in question cannot become either commissioned officers or warrant officers while in the military.

2) American ship name notes: United States Starship Majuro (hull classification code SFF-64) is named after the capital city of the Marshall Islands; U.S.S. Totolom (SFF-65) is named after the highest hill in the Federated States, located on Pohnpei Island; and U.S.S. Ngerchelchuus (SFF-66) is named after the highest mountain on Palau.

3) The Ukranian Naval Forces Starship Dmitro I. Višnevéc'kij (pendant number SBBV-563) is named after the first true Cossack hetman (the highest military commander below the monarch) in history; he lived from 1516-63 and served a whole host of leaders, including the infamous Tsar Ivan IV (Ivan the Terrible) of Russia (1530-84). Note that I used the Scholarly Romanisation of Ukrainian, which is similar to the Scientific Romanisation system for Russian; Čornobil' is the proper way of writing "Chernobyl" and Kiїv is how one says the name of the capital city of the Ukraine, "Kiev."

4) The Icelandic Coast Guard Starship Óðinn (pendant number SFF-26), named in honour of Odin (the All-Father and King of Asgard as fans of Thor will recognise), is named also after a series of patrol ships that have served in the Landhelgisgæslan (the Icelandic Coast Guard) from 1925-36 (Óðinn I), 1938-64 (Óðinn II) and from 1960-2006 (Óðinn III). The third Óðinn is now a museum ship in Reykjavík. Note that the ð letter is sometimes written eth or edh when one doesn't have access to special characters; capitalised, it's Ð. The sound this letter represents is the voiced dental fricative sound similar to the th in the English word "them."

5) Translations: Kyōsan-tō – the Japanese Communist Party; Jadiid ash-Shām – A combination of the Arabic word for "new" with the classical term for Syria, ash-Shām (in English, the planet's name is New Levant from the old French term for the Middle East); Chūō – Central/middle; Lìngzǐ – Beautiful Elder Sister; Zūngūmā – Respectful Aunt; Asāsiyyin – Faithful to the Foundation (of Islam); Voenno-vozdušnye Sily Rossii – Russian Air Force; Dóbryj Den' – Good Day; Továrišči – Plural of továrišč (comrade); Nachthexen – Night Witches; Spasíbo – Thank you; Kul'turnyj – Cultured/Civilised.

6) The name of the character Jawna bint-Hasan 'Amawāsi' min-Alamūt Jalil follows an unusual interpretation of Arabic naming conventions. The first name, Jawna, is the given name (in Arabic, ism). The phrase bint-Hasan, meaning "daughter of Hasan," is the patronymic (nasab). The third name 'Amawāsi' is a term meaning "Servant of Al-Wāsi'" (the forty-fifth of the Ninety-nine Names of God in Islam, meaning "The Vast/All-Embracing/Omnipresent/Boundless"). The term min-Alamūt means "from Alamūt," which identifies Jawna's spiritual home (Alamūt, meaning "Eagle's Nest," was a mountain fortress located 100 kilometres northwest of modern-day Tehrān in Iran). Thus, the whole phrase 'Amawāsi' min-Alamūt (literally "Servant of The All-Embracing from Alamūt") is Jawna's laqab (nickname), which is intended to better describe a person. And Jalil is the family name (nisbah).

7) As noted in Avalonians and Questors Part 2, in the history of this universe, the famous British airplane inventor Thomas Octave Murdoch Sopwith (1888-1989) moved to Canada in the wake of the bankruptcy of his company in 1919, where he re-established the Sopwith Aviation Company. The Sopwith So-48 Camel II (which never existed in real life) was a combination long-range fighter and ground-attack aircraft built for the Canadian Air Cavalry Corps in the late 1930s and served throughout World War Two. My character Major Deannette (Dean) Raeburn, before she founded the War Hawks, was a pilot in an Air Cavalry regiment.

8) Speaking of which, the 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry Regiment (Air) (short-form title: 10 SASK CAV R) is seen as the senior regiment of the Royal Canadian Corps of Air Cavalry (short-form title: RCCAC). Based at Canadian Forces Base Dundurn in central Saskatchewan about 40 kilometres south of Saskatoon, the regiment first arose as a volunteer mounted rifle company during the Northwest Rebellion of 1885 and was properly established as a militia unit the very next year. Said regiment mobilised the "10th Air Reconnaissance Battalion, Canadian Expeditionary Force" for service in the Great War and was made formally part of the new Canadian Air Cavalry Corps (CACC) when it was established in 1920 as one of the "Original Fifteen" regiments (which were numbered from 1st to 15th Canadian Cavalry). Said regiment also mobilised a element of the Canadian Army Service Force (the active service army deployed overseas) for the Second World War. Allowed to maintain both a Regular Force and Reserve Force (today known as a Militia) element, the Regiment remained part of the Air Cavalry until Unification effectively shut down the RCCAC in 1970. The Militia regiment spent time as an armoured reconnaissance unit before it was allowed to return to tactical air duties in late 2010 (after the time of Phoenix From the Ashes) in the universe of this story. The Regular Force regiment, as indicated in the story narrative, forms part of the 6th Canadian Brigade Group (Light), the reincarnation of the Special Service Force that existed from the mid-1970s to the mid-1990s. The Militia regiment, today known as 10th Saskatchewan Cavalry Regiment (Air) (Militia), is part of 38th Canadian Brigade Group (the Militia in Saskatchewan, Manitoba and northwestern Ontario) and would be made a fighting element of the 14th Canadian Mechanised Brigade, a formation of the 4th Canadian Armoured Division, were mobilisation for a general war to occur.

9) A Pre-Commissioning Unit (PCU) is the organisational designation of a ship's company in the United States Navy before the ship is officially commissioned into the Navy as a United States Ship/Starship. The short-form designation for the crew of the new Enterprise before she becomes the ninth ship to officially bear the name is PCU Enterprise. On her commissioning would she then be called U.S.S. Enterprise. After decommissioning, the previous Enterprise would then be called ex-Enterprise.

10) The non-commissioned members of a Canadian air cavalry regiment use a unique rank structure that is descent from their horse cavalry predecessors. Privates (both basic and trained [with one chevron as their rank insignia], holding the NATO rank-code equivalents of OR-2 [basic] and OR-3 [trained]) in the Air Cavalry are always addressed as Trooper (short-form title: Tpr). In reflection of that, their trade is officially addressed as Air Cavalry Trooper (ACav Tpr). In this trade, an air cavalry trooper can serve as a technician for a flying aircraft, being trained in the standard air technical trades (Aviation Technician, Avionics Technician, Aircraft Structures Technician and Non-Destructive Testing Technician) at the Canadian Forces School of Aerospace Technology and Engineering (CFSATE) in Borden in Ontario (where Air Force technicians all learn their trades). As the air cavalry trooper serves in a line regiment and advances to the rank of corporal, s/he can then specialise as a flight engineer (for multi-engine transport craft) or a weapons controller/tactical aircraft observer. After surviving junior leadership training and being promoted to the rank of master corporal, the air cavalry trooper has to make a choice as to what s/he wants to do with his/her career. Those who choose to become pilots are slotted into a flight training billet with their unit or allowed to go to the Air Cavalry School in Dundurn. In this case, the air cavalry trooper is addressed as Pilot Apprentice Master Corporal (short-form title: PAMCpl). On being awarded pilot's wings, an air cavalry trooper is promoted to sergeant, officially remusters (changes trades) to the follow-on trade of Air Cavalry Pilot (ACav Plt) and are addressed by the special rank title Pilot Sergeant (P/Sgt). Promotion to the warrant officer ranks allows them to keep the "pilot" prefix designation before their rank title, i.e Pilot Warrant Officer (P/WO), Pilot Master Warrant Officer (P/MWO) and Pilot Chief Warrant Officer (P/CWO). All those who are qualified pilots have the right to wear the traditional Air Cavalry "winged sabres" (winged crossed cavalry sabres with a Canadian maple leaf under the sabres, the wings using the "straight-wing" design seen in a Canadian Army parachutist's wings) insignia under their rank badge. Those master corporals who do not (for whatever reason) engage in flight training will train as supervisory technicians at CFSATE, being addressed at this stage as a Technical Apprentice Master Corporal (TAMCpl). On graduating, they are promoted to sergeant, remuster to the trade of Air Cavalry Technician (ACav Tech) and are addressed by the unique rank title of Technical Sergeant (T/Sgt). Advancing into the warrant officer trades, they retain the "technical" prefix designation before their rank title, i.e. Technical Warrant Officer (T/WO), Technical Master Warrant Officer (T/MWO) and Technical Chief Warrant Officer (T/CWO). All qualified technicians wear the "lightning sabres" insignia (crossed cavalry sables over a maple leaf with lightning bolts pointing out to either side) under their rank insignia.

11) The 46th (Taman Guards) Space Fighter Aviation Regiment is named after a real unit that served in the Soviet Air Forces in World War Two, the 46th "Taman" Guards Night Bomber Aviation Regiment (which existed between 1942-45). An all-woman fighting unit that flew the Polikárpov Po-2 general purpose utility biplane in night bombing missions against the Germans, the members of the 46th earned the nickname Nachthexen ("Night Witches") by the Germans for their incredible success against the invaders, not to mention the sheer number of missions they often flew against the enemy. The 46 SFAR is divided into four flying squadrons, each named after a famous female Soviet pilot from the Great Patriotic War: the 437th (Ekaterina Vasil'evna Budanova) Space Fighter Squadron, the 586th (Lidia Vladimirovna Litvjak) Space Fighter Squadron, the 587th (Marína Mixájlovna Raskóva) Space Fighter Squadron and the 588th (Nadéžda Vasil'evna Popova) Space Fighter Squadron.

12) Jurij Dolgorukij (1099-1157) was the Grand Prince of Kiev who founded Moscow. The Jurij Dolgorukij brand of vódka is made in that very city at the Moscow Distillery Crystal.

13) United States Navy Captain (retired) Theodore "Trigger" Ross and the crew of the Sparta all appeared in The Seventh Carrier.