"When he broke open the…seal, I heard the…creature cry out, 'Come forward.' Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword." – Revelation, Ch. 6: 3-5

"Prime Minister sir? You… you wanted to see me…?"

The young major entered the chamber to find the head of the Erusian Republic facing out a window, staring at nothing in particular. He walked cautiously to the Minister's side and looked at his face. The leader's eyes glowed, reflecting the light from the enemy's tracers and artillery rockets that were pummeling the city outside where Erusian resistance still persisted. The officer stood in awkward silence as the Minister ignored him. Outside, a mortar attack rained explosions from unseen locations onto a cluster of soldiers. The Minister observed the annihilation of those men—Erusians—in silence. Finally, the Erusian leader turned around slowly, off-balanced, almost as if he had aged a hundred years in that one instant. His face was gaunt and pale, and clashed with his yet lively eyes.

"Mr. Aleksei," the Minister's frail voice quivered, "I hereby promote you to the rank of General of the Air Force."

The new general gave quite a start, but the Minister held up his hand so he could continue.

"Kiril, look here. Look at me. Just some months ago, I was at the top of the world. No, I was the top of the world! I had it all… the continent, the 'Sphynx,' the best pilots, navy, and army, and plans for the most perfect fighter jets and superweapon! But now…"

He sighed and turned back to the window. Aleksei took a seat, aware of the fact that he might be here for a while, and the Minister talked on, unheeding.

"But now, I've lost almost everything. We've been driven back, the 'Sphynx' has been destroyed, my best aces are dead, my army is nothing but a small garrison right now, all the battleships of my Tanager-class now lie on the ocean floor… and now even the Stars have fallen out of my hands…"

Despite being a major of the FEAF (albeit, now a general), Kiril knew scarcely anything about the Starfighters. He listened intently for a possible explanation, but none came.

"Viktor Sturmoff… the ex-lead general whom you are replacing, has betrayed me. He's abandoned us here at Farbanti to save his own ass. And that damn ISAF bastard has already shot down three of my beautiful SFs! Now five more have flown off under Sturmoff's command to some island or something, where someone's helping them escape… and if I find out who, I'll…! I'll…"

For a moment, a hint of the Minister's old, cocky self had pierced through in his wrath, but it soon drowned once more in the harsh reality of the bunker. His voice fell still lower, fading out completely. It was another long time before he spoke to Aleksei again, but he muttered things like, "If only I had started the Mega projects sooner…" and "If only I still had Taylor, still had Rhodes… hell, I'd even take Thatcher or Jones now…"

The Minister addressed the young Erusian before him at last, "Aleksei. You know of Megafloat?"

"Of course sir. I'm third in command there. Although… with your promotion, I'll be in first."

"Good… You see, that is the only thing I have left. It is the only hope for our beautiful homeland now. I lost our free nation to the enemy, yet you can reclaim it. Please, Aleksei, launch it. It is time."

Kiril hesitated. "And you, sir?"

"I… I've got to go… I've been suffocating in the ashes of former glory for too long… I betrayed my countrymen the second those little ISAF shits stepped on our soil. Now I must make my amends, and you must make yours. Goodbye, Aleksei, and have a nice launch."

Now Aleksei rose and began to leave the office, yet stopped just before closing the door for one last word.

"Sir… wherever you may go… Godspeed."

"Yes, Aleksei… Godspeed…"

The new General of the Air Force shut the door firmly behind him and set off down the hall. He flinched at the sound of a gunshot that resounded through the hallway, haunting his footsteps. It was fleeting, and as soon as it sounded it vanished. It flooded Aleksei's mind, but he kept walking.

"Ah! Ambush! Retreat!"

Blaze gritted his teeth. The Oseans on Operation Picket Fence were flailing in their assault on the Production Line. The Belkans had molded a lethal combination of minefields, machine gun nests, and barbed wire into a dizzying and deadly maze. The Razgriz were providing air support all over the place for the embattled troops, but there was only so much they could accomplish.

"Help! They're everywhere!" "Unit A was just completely wiped out!"

The pilots could do little to aid the struggling forces on the ground. Those unfortunate souls were being easily picked off by a horde of Belkan snipers and marksmen.

"Damn it! I can't stand just listening to them getting killed!" Blaze shouted in sheer rage.

"Captain, I hate it too, but what can we do?!"

Blaze didn't reply to Archer, but rather dove suddenly on a field. He had noticed that this was a minefield. "Pickle!" One bomb fell from the Syphoner's wing to the hardened earth below. As it impacted, it set off a chain explosion of the mines—huge chunks of earth burst into the air and fell on even more of the hidden traps. The blasts rocked the troops on the ground.

"Whoa! That guy's crazy! Is he trying to kill us too?!" "Who cares! We've got a hole to break through. Go, go!"

The Oseans surged forward. An enemy bunker on the far side of the field opened fire, but Nagase soon silenced it. "Target destroyed!" The soldiers managed to press forwards with their vehicles now too. The tanks obliterated all immediate opposition.

"Company D advancing with the Razgriz' help." "Damn, it's hard to walk in craters." "Shut up, Rockwell."

The platoon was almost out of the line. All that remained now was a group of bunkers. As the men moved towards these positions, enemy fire erupted all around them.

"Oh no, another ambush!" "They're got pillboxes on all sides! We're in a crossfire!"

Blaze cursed. The enemy was so close to his allies that he couldn't use missiles or bombs against the bunkers; there would be too many friendly casualties.

"Edge, Archer, Swordsman! Strafe these posts! Use only guns!" "Wilco!"

The four F-25s each chose a target and fired their Vulcans. They flew past the bunkers and circled around for to confirm the damage dealt. The pillboxes were very solid and deep in the ground, however, and so were extremely difficult to destroy from the air.

"They're still firing! Allies are suffering heavy casualties!" "Damn, take another shot at it!" Once more the Razgriz tried unsuccessfully to hit the targets. They were quickly becoming agitated. Blaze's focus wavered, and he found himself completely missing with his shots. "This is a waste! We aren't doing anything!" Pitching up, he headed away from the encircles tanks. He then turned around and accelerated, arming one of his freefall bombs.

"Blaze, what are you-?!"

Before Kei could finish her sentence, Blaze, flying at an extremely low altitude, released the bomb. It glided straight into one of the bunkers, guided by the aircraft's speed. The entire pillbox imploded.

"Hot damn! Nice shot Razgriz!" "Five bunkers remaining, keep down!"

The other three pilots followed their lead's example. Each bomb cleared out each bunker, blowing out the back walls as the projectiles impacted them and detonated. The Belkans inside were instantaneously incinerated.

"All targets destroyed! W-we're alive!" "Whew… can't believe we survived that!"

Blaze breathed a sigh of relief. They had saved this company. It had taken just a few minutes to do so, but it had seemed like hours. All the forces were exhausted, especially the Razgriz.

"We took at least forty percent casualties here… We're weaker, but we can still fight!" "We've finally busted through the line! Yeah!"

The Razgriz cheered with the survivors of company D. It was not over, though. "Now that we're out, we can go back in. Hit 'em from behind!" "Heh, alright… Back into hell we go!" "This time we're the devils!"

Blaze smiled. It had been a long fight so far. The end was still so far away, guarded carefully by more grueling skirmishes and conflicts with the Belkan Army. But now, they had broken out of the maze. It was just a matter of time now. It was just a matter of time before the Production Line fell too.

"Major Aleksei, welcome back. I trust your meeting with the Prime Minister went well?"

The young officer stared into his ex-superior's eyes. He scoffed, "Sure. Just don't expect any more orders from him or Farbanti. And, I'm in command here now. The Minister promoted me to General of the Air Force." Kiril showed the official his stripes, then jeered, "And if I remember ranks correctly, that's higher than yours."

Aleksei strolled past the stunned man. The general had taken on the Minister's wrathful ways, and he was ready to do what his leader had asked him to do. He called for a report on the aircraft Megafloat, and an aide ran to his side.

"Sir?"

"How much time will it take to launch the XAM-100A?"

"Hmm… most of the weaponry's on board. We just need to get fuel and everyone else on too. They're loading the Mega-class missiles now."

"How much time damn it, not how much there is to do," Kiril growled. The aide apologized and corrected himself, "S-sorry sir… about, uh… two weeks? We still need to get supplies on board and mobilize an escort…"

"Yeah, yeah!" Aleksei interrupted, waving the officer's words away with his hand, "I'll give you one week. I plan to meet the escort at sea. Dismissed!" The general continued past the other men on the dock. The ship in which he had arrived departed once more, heading for its home port in Wocken. Kiril came to the doors of the massive hangar. These now encased the craft's wings as work progressed on them; the fuselage lay entirely in the open air. From the outside, it was difficult to distinguish what was Megafloat and what was the hangar; both were the same rusty red color. Upon entering, Aleksei observed hundreds of people scaling the behemoth wing, putting finishing touches on it. Sneering at the uncompleted work, he hurried to his office to make an announcement. His voice boomed throughout the hangar on loudspeakers:

"Attention workers, this is General of the Air Force Kiril Aleksei, now first in command of this operation. Our time has come at last—begin preparations for launch immediately. I give you all one week at most to complete construction and be ready for our mission. The Minister has spoken. Also, I… I regret to be the bearer of this news… Erusea has fallen to the enemy. Our secrecy here is as of yet uncompromised, but do not expect it to last. We must work as hard and fast as possible. That is all."

Aleksei put the speaker's microphone down and turned to a nearby officer. "See to it that that message is broadcast everywhere on this island," he ordered, "and get our intelligence unit working on finding those rat bastards—those traitors who abandoned Farbanti! Find where the Starfighter pilots are hiding!"

"Attention all Erusian troops! Cease fighting and surrender at the following: the Central Park tennis courts, what's left of the National Library's courtyard fountain, the southern end of Johnson Memorial Bridge…"

General Andrews gazed out at the ruins of the city. The once proud Erusian capital had been reduced to rubble and ashes by constant artillery shelling. The once invincible Star Squadron had been cut done by a third, and the rest had fled. Much of the enemy army had surrendered, but a few small garrisons still resisted in darkened corners of debris-littered Farbanti. Now the liberating ISAF army had come to finish the job and the war.

"Hit that position with mortars!" "Incoming! Get down!"

Frenetic chatter and explosions filled the radio waves. The general was overseeing the battlefield from the highest undamaged building in the city (which still was only three stories tall). A rather large Erusian contingent had formed at the base of the building, surrounding it and attempting to capture it. The ISAF soldiers had blockaded themselves in the first floor lobby.

"Watch out! They're got flamethrowers!" "Eric! Toss your grenades over there!" "The enemy's advancing, open fire!" "Reinforcements! We need reinforcements!"

Andrews listened to this last message in particular. "Let's go! Arm yourselves! We're heading down to join the fight!" Overall, there were about twenty ISAF soldiers left; the Erusians seemed to be everywhere.

"RPG incoming!!" "Take that bastard out!"

The general and his men descended into chaos. The lobby was being shredded by enemy explosives and machine gun fire. He directed his men to strengthen the middle of the line and the right flank, noticing a few drop dead on their way to these areas.

"Shit, sniper! Sniper in that rubble!" "Grenades away! Down!"

The entire pile of debris erupted as the bombs detonated. Large rocks and pieces were blasted into the sky, and they fell on Erusian positions, crushing many of the men there.

"Holy shit! That got 'em!" "Their flank's wide open, charge!"

The ISAF soldiers rushed through the hole in the defense. They came around the rubble to find dozens of dazed Erusians spread everywhere, unsure of what had just happened. Taking advantage of the situation, the ISAF had no mercy.

"Fire, shoot 'em!" The general dropped enemy after enemy with his 9mm, and eventually the opposition pulled back into cover. "Don't let 'em retreat! Pursue them!"

The troops climbed over the debris to find the Erusians cowering in a corner with no where to go, their hands raised, their weapons thrown upon the scorched ground. "What the hell…?" one of the ISAF's own muttered. An enemy soldier advanced slowly, saying clearly, "We surrender! We have run out of ammunition and orders are to die fighting. I will not kill my men by sending them into enemy fire."

The ISAF general swaggered forward warily. "It's an honorable move on your part. Men, detain them and take them to the building. You have your victory!" The triumphant soldiers cheered and led the new POWs to the building's second floor. The general returned to the roof with his escort.

"How many of them did we get?"

"About thirty or so, sir."

"Heh. Alright! So how's it going with the other units?" the general asked.

"Company E has captured around fifteen enemy soldiers. Company A is engaging others as we speak. Company B is still on patrol."

"What of units C and D?"

"D was wiped out in an ambush. C is fighting those ambushers now. In fact…"

The officer walked over to the radio on a makeshift desk. He picked up the phone and called, "Company C commander, come in. Repeat, company C commander, this is HQ, report."

There was a long pause before anyone answered. "This is Sergeant Berrin, unit C commander. Go ahead, HQ." "Report your status, Berrin."

"We survived the ambush that got company D, and took out the enemy soldiers. Captured at least fifty or so! Afterwards, we found an enemy bunker on the edge of the city. It was filled with Erusian officers and the like, very high ranks all around. They put up quite a fight. Must have lost at least ten guys… but we found something. In one of the rooms we discovered some guy's corpse with really big rank insignias, and I mean big. This guy… he must have been the Prime Minister!"

"W-what?! That's… amazing! But, do leaders of the country have insignias?"

"Er… I meant identifications, I guess, or something… Anyway, he's got a wound in the head—looks like a 9mm round. There's a gun too. He either killed himself or was assassinated."

"Roger. I'll inform GHQ! Very well done Berrin, carry on!" "Sir!"

The official turned back to the general with a smile. Andrews himself, having overheard the sergeant's thrilled shouts, returned it before racing down the building's stairs to the lobby and exclaiming to his men, "Gentlemen, the city is ours!!"

"Sir. It's done at last. We are ready, boarding's beginning now."

Kiril smiled. This was the news he had been waiting for. He rose from his desk and walked out of his office. Men were all around the two, taking apart the hangars that still covered the wings. Aleksei noticed that a christening ceremony was in progress, officially declaring this beast 'Megafloat.' The general took a moment to take it all in.

In a space of just months, the 'Erusian Mega Projects Team' had restored six Stonehenge turrets to operational status, constructed a store of burst missiles based on those from the Yuke carrier, and finished the coup de grace—ten MIRV multiple nuclear warhead ballistic missiles, plus several extra without warheads that could be loaded mid-flight. Each warhead was separable; on impact, one missile resulted in the detonation of ten separate nuclear explosions. These could all detonate over one site, or be independently targeted so that the missile would burst in flight. Kiril saw that these were being loaded onto the craft in pieces, transported through wide corridors inside.

"Hmm… shit... Hey!" he hailed an officer over, "Does that opening lead all the way to the missile launch tubes?"

The official scratched his head, then answered, "Yes sir. But don't worry, during flight that is closed over by an air brake. It's only exposed when we slow to a hover to fire one of those missiles." Aleksei cursed. "Well that's great… you know what, I want you to see to it that those corridors are filled with AA gun nests. Don't let a single inch of space be out of range of some crossfire. We don't want any aircraft getting in there, do we?"

"But sir!" Kiril's inferior protested, "What aircraft could possibly fly through those tight turns in there? And besides, putting all those AA guns in will delay launch by at least a day or two!" The general shook his head and replied, "I don't care anymore. Just do it. Now, if you excuse me, I've got to go refine our course."

Aleksei continued on past the officer. As he neared the boarding platform for Megafloat, a colonel began chasing him down.

"Sir! General Aleksei! Wait!"

Kiril rolled his eyes and uttered, "Later colonel." "No sir! This is important!" "I said later." "Listen sir, this can't wait!"

Aleksei quickly became furious, and rounded on the official. He bellowed, "What the hell do you think could possibly be more important than plotting the demise of those who have ravaged our beautiful homeland?! Well?!"

The colonel took a few steps back, obviously very frightened. He regained his resolve, however, stood up straight, and said, "Sir… we've discovered where the last Starfighter pilots are hiding!"

The general stopped dead in his tracks. He suddenly reared back his head and burst out laughing. Turning to the colonel with a devious glint in his eyes, his mouth contorting into a smile, Kiril spoke softly, "I am most sorry for yelling, colonel… That is… undeniably the best news I've heard in the past week! Come, tell me what you know…"

"Mr. Sturmoff, you have a visitor. He's waiting in the lobby."

"Alright, I'll be right down." Viktor hung up the phone and turned off the television. He looked at the clock and sighed—six in the morning. "Who the hell's coming to visit this early?" he grumbled to himself as he dressed. For the past few days he hadn't been able to get any sleep, and it was grating on his nerves. Grabbing the cardkey for his room and flicking off the lights, he left and descended the staircase to the lobby. He and the other four surviving SF pilots were briefly staying at a hotel on the Forcaire Islands before their trip to Wocken. Here, no one knew them and no one cared. That was one of the things the five wanted most in the world right then—anonymity.

When he arrived at the front desk, Sturmoff was directed by the attendant to a man in the corner. This man was wearing a trench coat, dark sunglasses, and a wide-rimmed hat. Viktor laughed as he took this sight in. "What the hell, Kilroy? You look like a spy or something, way to be inconspicuous!"

"Sure," Andre whispered, "But better safe than caught. Listen Sturmoff, this is very, very important! Do you know a man by the name of Kiril Aleksei?" This man kept glancing around, ensuring nobody was eavesdropping on them. Kilroy had taken to the same belief as many Erusian soldiers had that the war was pointless and now lost. For this reason he found himself gravitating more towards the Star pilots, who had also given up on the war, than those still fighting. Now he had come to Sturmoff to give him a dire warning.

"Never heard of him. So, I take it I should have?"

"Yes, well… Get this: he's the new general of the air force, replacing you. The Minister promoted him. Speaking of our leader… rumor has it he's dead—suicide. But that's not important. I don't know how, but Aleksei's found you guys. And he thinks he'll 'avenge' the Minister or something by killing you all. Here's the best part… (Kilroy's voice fell lower, and Sturmoff had to lean forward to hear him)… Aleksei's basically the most powerful Erusian in the world right now. The ISAF has captured our lead general. Now this bastard is going to launch Megafloat. He's coming for you. You guys have to leave—get to Wocken immediately—quickly, tell the others! Head for Wocken!"

"So…" Viktor leaned back with a contented grin on his face. He seemed to have been completely unaffected by Andre's urgent message. "Somebody other than the Minister has the balls to launch Megafloat, huh? Interesting… I'm kinda liking this Aleksei pipsqueak."

Kilroy scowled. "He's mad, Sturmoff, he's completely lost it. As far as I know, he doesn't want to go to Wocken. He's planning some suicidal mission… I know it. Listen to me, don't go straight to Wocken. Head towards the mainland first, then turn southwest around the islands, then to Wocken. Going straight there will lead you straight to him."

Sturmoff laughed again, but cut it short quickly. Though his expression elicited no knowledge of the gravity of the situation, he really did know, for he had helped shape the amazing power of Megafloat to destroy life. The Star pilots had to leave as soon as possible. "Well. We'd better hurry out of here. You, Kilroy?"

"I'm going back to Megafloat's construction site—I'm second in command now, you know—my absence would be noticed, and I've probably already taken too much time here. But I won't launch with it! I'm not going to die like that."

"Okay… good luck. Maybe we'll meet in Wocken some time?"

"Heh, definitely. I'll see you there, Sturmoff." With a wave, Kilroy departed the lobby. Viktor then hustled up the stairs to the second floor. He hammered on each of his wingman's doors, awakening them.

"Christ, Sturmoff," one grumbled as he emerged from his room, "It's so damn early. What the hell's the matter?"

"Get your things, and get dressed in your flight suit. We're going to Wocken."

"Wocken? I thought we weren't going for a few more days?"

Viktor grabbed his sleepy wingman by the shoulders and shook him. "Damn it Edith, in a few days we'll all be dead! C'mon, I'll explain later!"

Eventually, all five pilots had gotten down to the lobby, grumbling and yawning all the way downstairs. The attendant smiled cordially when he saw the men approach the counter. "Checking out sirs?" "Yes." "Alright then."

The man took their room keys and checked them out of the hotel. As they turned to leave, he said, "Good luck." None of the five questioned this. They knew that the whole hotel had been booked for fleeing Erusian officials headed for Wocken. This man was in on it all. Other than Sturmoff, none here, however, knew of the impending disaster.

As the others left, Sturmoff hesitated. He turned and called to the man before leaving, "No… good luck to you… you'll actually need it."

"Hey hero! Good morning!"

Aaron laughed as he entered the crew room. He filled up a mug of coffee and plopped down next to his friend. "Hero, Ericks? Since when did I become a hero?"

"When you took out three SFs, man!"

"Oh, and not when I finished off the 'Sphynx?'"

"Aw, I was there to help!" Both laughed again. These two were in good spirits; Farbanti was all but captured and the Starfighters had been driven off.

"So, where do you think the other six Stars are now?" Ericks asked of Aaron. Before he could answer, a loudspeaker interrupted the new 'hero' by booming the words, "Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Makari, please report to the briefing room immediately," throughout the room.

"Great. Wonder what they want now… I'll answer that question in a sec…" Bolt 1 parted with his wingman and hurried to the briefing room. When he got there, he found the base commander, the general of the air force, and even Commander Mattock himself waiting.

"Makari," Ross addressed him, "Thanks for coming here quickly. We have much to discuss… Have a seat."

Aaron sat down in a chair and listened to the men start the briefing. Mattock began excitedly, "As you obviously know, Erusea constructed nine super jets—the Starfighters—in an attempt to gain air dominance over their capital. In the skies over Farbanti, you yourself fought them and shot down three. The pilots of those three are confirmed dead. During the third attack, you witnessed the lead SF retreat from battle. We had no idea what had become of the last six Stars. Now, however, our forces just discovered an SF left in a hangar that was miraculously untouched by our artillery! Its pilot was found dead a little farther away, killed by bombs-"

Aaron burst out, "Are you serious?! That's amazing!" Mattock beamed at him, and replied, "Yes, it is true. That is not all, but that is a pretty important chunk of the news I have for you… We have thus also confirmed a few things: one, this SF is one of the original nine; two, the other five are no longer in Farbanti. Just recently we've figured out how to use that Sonnatrac stuff, and we picked up five returns near an island to the southwest of this city. We've confirmed that the SFs flew to that island to hide, although temporarily. The SASS shows that they're heading for allied Wocken, since Erusea is no longer friendly to them. The Wocken Air Force could use such advanced technology, and will certainly welcome them with open arms. If we want this war to end, these planes must be destroyed! It can't be allowed for these Stars to enter Wocken! So help me, I really do not wish to have to invade Wocken too… This is it, Makari! Our chance! You are the best we have. You must pilot the SF we captured and use it to destroy the other five. As of late, Erusea has refused to surrender. Perhaps if we finish off their best aircraft series, we can force them to the bargaining table. This is a top-secret mission for now, known as Operation Meteorologist. It begins immediately. Good luck and Godspeed, Aaron. You can end this war now, and I know you will!"

The Commander saluted Bolt 1 and left quickly, before Makari himself could return the gesture. The general took over where Ross had left off.

"Lieutenant colonel, we've had mechanics and engineers working all day to figure out that Starfighter. They've done a great job so far, probably deciphered most of it. They will brief you further once you get to the flight line. Good luck… sir." He too departed, leaving Aaron bewildered as to why everyone was saluting him.

The base commander stood up and stretched. "Well Makari… follow me." The two walked briskly down to the flight line, past the crew room. Ericks came out and began to ask Aaron about where he was going, but he told James first, "Just ask the commander when he gets back, he'll explain."

Ericks was just as bewildered as Makari was.

"All rise for General Aleksei! Salute!"

Kiril thanked his inferiors in the room. There were about twenty people or so here; all were generals who were in control of Megafloat's path, and they were about to present their plan to Aleksei.

"So gentlemen, what did you have in mind?" The head general relaxed in his chair as another general stood and turned on a display. On the computer a map of Usea popped up. That standing officer took a remote and pressed a button; ten red 'X's appeared, scattered throughout the continent, each labeled with names.

"Here we have our suggested targets, each of which is essential for ISAF control over the continent. These we'll destroy with our Mega-class MIRV missiles. The first target, here (he pointed with a laser pointer), is in Erusea—Scandy Military Base…"

Aleksei shot out of his seat. He commanded in a vehement tone, "No. We will not attack anything in Erusea's borders. Choose another target."

The official sighed, but removed the target from the list. While he looked for another suitable one, Kiril spoke again. "I have the first target for you. The Forcaire Islands off Erusea's coast. We will fire a missile there first. That is where the five traitors are hiding… Keep going."

The general added the target and continued. "Okay, the second target is the city of San Salvacion. Mattock himself often goes there. The third is Tahlone Military Base, near Gnome Ravine. We left a lot of SASS technology and Tu-200s there when we retreated… don't want the ISAF to get those! Fourth is New Leonshire City, previously known as the 'Orange City,' capital of the IFOM. Fifth is Los Canas. From there we fire at the Comona Islands, our sixth target. This will cripple their space program and space-based surveillance. Next is Newfield Island. The eighth is for Saint Ark, where newly trained ISAF troops arrive on the mainland from North Point. The last two missiles are for the two largest cities in North Point, one of which is obviously the capital; the other, Gefangel City. These strikes will utterly devastate the ISAF, leaving them weak, vulnerable to any enemies that might spring up. So, we launch, fire the missiles, then arm the extra missiles we have on board. We'll fire them at various capitals and other large cities around the continent before we head for Wocken after all the primary targets are confirmed destroyed. Any questions?"

Most of the men murmured in agreement and excitement, but Aleksei silenced them. He began to speak slowly but loudly, choosing each word carefully. "No… no… That won't do at all. I love the targets, but hate the execution idea! I want to go there… I want to watch those places be destroyed! And… Wocken? No… no, there will be no return journey for us… no glory. Choose the third largest city in North Point… Eiferstad, yes? A symbolic city, held sacred by some, capital of the country during World War II… We will crash this craft into it!!"

The other Erusians were horrified. Suicide?! "Sir… you can't be serious…!"

Kiril glared at the brigadier general who had just spoken. "Oh, yes I can be, I damn well can be! This thing is almost a whole fucking mile long! Think of the destruction… of the casualties! It'll be a disaster… a gorgeous, beautiful disaster!! Fuck 'em all, we'll kill 'em all!"

Another general stood, shaking his head. "You're crazy… you're crazy…" He lifted his head and, surprisingly, was smiling. "You're fucking crazy, Aleksei, and I love it! Prepare for launch! Operation Final Destination will begin soon… and we will all go to our destinies as martyrs!"