(AN: So, yeah that last chapter was a bit of a shocker with lots of author's Godlike Power Abuse, but if a story really is like your own world that you create, and you are the all-powerful 'god' of said world, why not? Maybe that's why I'd make a lousy god, I'd be constantly messing with the status quo because I could.

Anyways, I've received some feedback about the last chapter's shipping, and believe it or not there is more to this than just 'paring the soldier with the elf chick with the impressive rack.' Tiff's powers as a mage that combats certain kinds of dragons will be relevant in the next arc of the story, and I needed her to have a reason to come back to Tristain and help with the war effort. And you can only do the 'follow the OC around like a lovesick puppy' before you have to either nut up or shut up, as the philosopher would say. So I nutted up a bit sooner than expected. Also I'm not going to lie, making Tiffania older than she looks was a Take That against various franchises that hand-wave away the very young-looking love interest by saying that they're a vampire/elf/alien/CrystalDragonJesus etc etc. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Fun bit of trivia, when I originally stubbed out the story arc back at the beginning (circa 'Damned if You Do') I had originally intended the soldiers to show up at the oasis, have 'Leeroy Jenkins' fire on one of the elves and the 33rd are forced to return fire in self-defense and gun down all the elves like Walker and Co did to the refugees in the 1st level and the 33rd in the Nest of the game. I decided it was too grimdark and really didn't serve a purpose beyond bloodshed for blood's sake. Not to mention it would alienate a faction in the FOZ verse that Crosby and co. will need in the final arc.

Anways, finally the moment we've all be waiting for. I've had this chapter sitting in my doc folder for weeks, and I finally get to publish it. I hope you enjoy, after this I'm going on a much-needed vacay to Florida this week, so no updates until the following week at the soonest.)

"And I'm telling you I'm not telling! Jeezus why don't you pull your fucking head out of the toilet?"

The newly married lieutenant had his headphones on and was talking with the pilot of the Little Bird flying alongside. It was close enough to where he could almost see the shit-eating grin on Lt. Bowles' face.

"Suit yourself Heavy Four, but I'm telling you, I could hear your new bride screaming out her deity's name while you were porking her."

"That was your imagination, Bravo Six. There was no screaming."

"Then dish up, what happened?"

Gordon shook his head.

If I tell you what happened, will you drop it?"

"Maybe."

"Okay, last night I was so thrashed that I fell asleep like five minutes after you guys left. That's it. Fact of the matter is, I'm still a bit creeped out by being paired off with an elf who looks like she's 15 years old."

"Oh, come on, Heavy Four, that's a cop-out! You're not getting off that easy! What position did you do first? Missionary? Reverse Cowgirl? The Lotus Blossom?"

Crosby's voice cut in.

"With all due respect, sir, keep it PG-rated or switch to a secure frequency, there are minors on this partyline."

He heard Bowles' voice speak up.

"Roger that, sarge, Heavy Four go to secure channel seven, I just had a brainstorm."

"Roger that, Bravo Six. Switching to secure channel. Now what is this brilliant idea?"

"Heavy Four. I just realized you're the first human to marry an elf, it means while you're going down on your new bride, you could also be going down in history as the one who helped improve the elven people's lot."

Gordon shook his head, grinning.

"Knock it off or I'll spank ya, Bravo Six!"

"Yeah, promises. Better not let your beloved hear that, she'll get jealous!"


Saito frowned at the Zulu Squad sergeant who was sitting beside him in the copilot's seat.

"I don't know why you bother, Crosby-san. Everything they were talking about I already know about."

"Call me old fashioned, but there's some things that you just don't need to know about until after you can legally buy a pack of smokes and vote."

Saito laughed.

"I'd have to wait until I'm 20, then. Besides have you ever heard of the term ecchi?"

"Sounds like you're hocking up a loogie. I'll bite, what it is?"

Lugo's voice came up on the radio.

"Ah, well sarge, you know how you're always saying that if this was a movie you'd call bullshit on how weird and contrived it is? Well, if they made a Japanese cartoon out of our stories this would be an ecchi story. Ludicrous plot, bizarre comedy as a segue into sexual situations, you name it."

Crosby chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, I'm glad we're not in one then."

He looked over to Saito.

"Let's just say that I've watched my fair share of ecchi, Crosby-san, so there's very little that you or any of the others soldiers could say to scandalize me."

"So Saito, have you heard of the Donkey Punch and Pink Sock?"

A new voice piped up, this was Tebby. Saito looked over to Crosby, who shook his head.

"That's a negative, corporal, and do not tell the kid. That's an order."

He switched to the open command channel.

"Now listen up everybody, I hope you all got your jollies about ribbing Lt. Gordon about his shotgun nuptials and Japanese porn. Now is the time to pull your collective heads out of the gutter and focus on the mission."

He turned in his seat and glanced over his shoulder to the blonde elf girl. Crosby spoke up.

"Gordon, can you lend your new bride your headphones?"

Before the lieutenant could respond, Tiffania spoke up.

"It's alright, I can hear your, Mr. Crosby."

Crosby, to his credit was only mildly surprised.

"Let me guess, the ears?"

She nodded as her ears twitched.

"And I must say, it's rather noisy in here."

He smiled.

"You could say that. Are we getting close to the Steel Dragon's lair?"

Tiffania peered out the window.

"We are getting close."

She paused.

"Although usually I'm not seeing it from this high up."

We should be closing in on our objective."

Bowles' voice came in through the static.

"Bravo Zero this is Bravo Six, I have eyes on…well something out about five klicks out at my ten o'clock."

Crosby squinted through the windscreen, the sun was on the horizon and the glare from the sunset was making it difficult to see. Then he saw a dark shape on the ground.

"Roger that, Bravo Six, I have eyes on it. Can you make anything out?"

"Negative sarge, seems to be covered up by some sort of camouflage or netting. Only thing I can say is whatever it is it's huge."

"Too bad this `Bird doesn't have a spotlight on it." Crosby mutter. He spoke up into the command channel.

"Bravo Six see if you can find a spot to set down, we'll follow your lead."

Saito pulled the cyclic stick off to the side and the Blackhawk banked in sympathy with his movements. It was almost completely dark now, he could only see Bravo Six's starboard navigation light flashing green. He heard Crosby's voice over the radio.

"Time to go green, gentlemen."

Saito nodded and flipped the NVG's from the top of his aviator helmet down over his eyes. Immediately his vision was all hues of green from the night vision optics. Bravo Six stood out in the gloom with a strobe light flashing on its tail. Below them Saito could see a large dark shape. It was still obscured, but he could make out some basic shapes. He heard Lt. Bowles' voice on the radio.

"Bravo Zero, I have a visual on a possible LZ, follow my lead."

Saito nodded and spoke into his mic.

"Roger that Bravo Six, following your lead."


After the Blackhawk set down on the sand and its engines whined down Saito and Crosby unstrapped their restrains and disembarked. The Zulu Squad sergeant noticed that Tiffania was already getting out and following Gordon, in spite of his protests.

"Tiff, I really think you should wait back in the `Bird, this could be dangerous."

She shook her head, and her voice could be heard over the engines and the swirling sand.

"Have you forgotten? Where you go I follow, and besides, if the Steel Dragon is a danger only an elf can protect you."

Crosby smiled and shook his head. Not even married 24 hours and they already were having their first fight as a couple. He heard Bowles' voice over the radio.

"Sergeant, you need to see this, pronto!"

He walked around the front of the Blackhawk and past the parked Little Bird where Tebby was already checking the engine compartment. Crosby saw a light source and something being illuminated by it.

As he approached it, he could feel the temperature around him drop, and a smell like ozone permeated around him. He looked over to the elf girl, who answered the question on the tip of his tongue.

"It is magic, the elders of my tribe cast a powerful spell that would suspend the Dragon in a perpetual state of unchanging, to preserve it from the ravages of time and the elements."

He nodded and looked over to the source of the light. It appeared that Bowles and Lugo had ran ahead and popped flares to help shed some light on the situation. The lieutenant was waving Crosby over and called out to him.

"Take a look!"

Sure enough, the thing was covered by camouflaged netting, but when Crosby pulled it up, he had to catch his breathe.

It was an airplane, true to the engravings that Konrad had shown him so long ago, and at first glance it looked like a Hercules transport plane, but as he approached the rear of the plane he could see objects sprouting from its left side. Crosby came up to the front and rubbed a gloved hand over the plane's nose art, a highly stylized Grim Reaper brandishing a minigun. He heard Bowles' breathless voice through the radio.

"Can you believe it, Crosby? It's an AC-130 gunship! Looks like Ghostrider, right here, in this fucked up world of magic!"

Crosby shook his head. A couple of chopper `Birds ending up in Helkeginia, he could believe, but this, this was fantastic. Even as he was looking at and touching it he couldn't believe it. He turned around to face Bowles.

"As cool as this is, fan out and see if you can find any clues, and if you can, find a fuel source. This big ugly's going to need a shit ton of fuel just to get off the ground, and I don't want to make another trip into the desert if we can."

He heard Gordon's voice call out.

"Over here, sergeant!"

He looked over and saw Gordon waving to him, standing next to another dark shape. He picked up a flare and approached.

"Don't come any closer with that flare, sarge!"

Crosby dropped it, and as he got closer he saw why the lieutenant ordered him to do so. It was a Volvo R-11 Refuler truck emblazoned with the 1st Special Operations Wing livery, looking as if it was just parked there that morning. He saw Gordon climbing on top of the tank.

"It looks full, and the fuel smells fresh!"

Crosby nodded, still in shock. He spoke into his radio.

"All units, be advised we have located a fuel source, keep all flares and open flames away. Obviously a smoking ban is in place until further notice. Alex, you and Lugo secure the area, Lt. Bowles if you could assist Gordon and myself with getting this thing refueled?"

"Roger that, sarge."

He climbed up into the cab of the truck and saw the passenger door open. Lt. Gordon was all grins.

"Can you believe it, Crosby? A Spectre gunship, out here? This could be a game-changer!"

Crosby smiled and checked the visor. Sure enough, whoever parked the truck left the keys under the sunvisor. The truck's diesel engine coughed once, but roared to life on the second try and slowly inched its way towards the plane's refueling port. After he shut the engine off Crosby heard Alex's voice on the radio.

"Um, Crosby? Gordon, sir? You should get over here right away, Lugo's found something."

Crosby looked over to the lieutenant.

"I'll check it out, sir."

When Crosby arrived at Alex's position he found the private holding a flare. About fifty yards ahead he saw a stack of what looked like ammo crates, and he could make out Lugo's form slumped in the sand. Even from this distance he could hear the Delta sniper's hysterical laughter.

"What's the major malfunction, private?"

Alex shook his head.

"No idea, sarge. Lugo scouted out ahead and then he just burst into laughter. When I asked, he said for me to get you over and you'd get the joke."

He looked over to the stack of crates.

"That's all I got out of him, sarge."

Crosby nodded.

"Secure the area, I'll check it out. If our Delta boy has finally snapped I may need backup."

"Roger that."

The Zulu Squad sergeant gingerly approached Lugo. He was sitting on his haunches with his Scout Tactical straddling his lap. His head was bowed and he was still laughing.

"What's wrong, Lugo?"

Lugo didn't answer, continued laughing and pointed at one of the nearby crates. Crosby shined a flashlight at one of them. One was an ammo crate for the 40mm Bofors gun, and he recognized the long rectangular box that held the 105 mm Howitzer ammo. He was about to turn to Lugo again when something on the crate caught his eye. He shined his flashlight to be sure, and a sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach. Quickly he scanned over all the crates, wanting to think it was just a mistake. When he came back around the other side of the ammo dump, he found Lugo back on his feet, finally speaking.

"I guess the Weaver's got a sense of humor after all, eh sarge?"

Crosby shook his head and looked back to the first crate.

Under the marking identifying it as a 40mm ammo crate with 9 shell count, there was a large warning stenciled underneath it.

WARNING! WHITE PHOSPHORUS ORDNANCE: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL HANDLING ONLY!

(AN: DUNDUNDUUUUUN! Who the hell invited Willy Pete to the party? Oops, I guess that would be me (insert evil laughter).

In the immortal words of Jeggets, God help the Reconquista, and anyone else who gets in the 33rd's crosshairs when Willy Pete is unleashed. Helkeginia will never be the same. So…will Konrad use the Willy Pete against the Reconquista? This will be the last update before I go on a much needed vacay, but before we go, another hand-waving is needed, so without further ado:

*In the spotlight a short, clean-shaven man with dark hair and a small mustache comes on stage, he is wearing a khaki uniform of the British Army circa 1910's and Sam Browne belt, when he speaks it is in a cultured but sarcastic voice*

"Mr. Handwaver the Magician has been conscripted as part of the War Effort against the evil Huns, er, Reconquista. As such, I with the rather unimaginative moniker of Captain Handwaver, shall be doing the handwaving from now on."

*He turns off stage*

"Private, hand me the card, there's a good fellow."

*a voice offstage is heard*

"Um, wot card would that be, sir? It's not my birthday."

*Captain Handwaver looks exasperated*

"Baldrick, your stupidity is quite vexing. Do you know what your brain and the four-legged man eating fish-beast-haddock of Langhorian Lake have in common?"

"I give up, sir."

"Neither one exists. The cue card to which I am referring to is the same blasted cue card that you are holding in your filthy hands."

*he gets handed the card*

"Thank you Private, now go overtax your brainpower and sort a bag of Smarties alphabetically."

*He turns to the audience and clears his throat*

"This handwave makes it clear that in the world of a certain violent anvilicious video game that the AC-130 Spectre gunship had the capacity to be armed with White Phosphorus ordnance."

*he makes a small 'Queen Mum' style hand wave, and continues*

"Although if you've made it this far in this rather idiotic crackfic, I seriously doubt you'd be throwing down the bullshit flag at this point. I mean, really. Teenaged girls with dinner plate-sized eyes and enormous gag boobies that can trap person's faces in them, Elf girls who are over a century old, pah! Utterly ridiculous."

"Captain Handwaver?"

*he looks up*

"Yes, Almighty and Sadistic Godlike Author whom I really should not be antagonizing?"

"Do you know what yaoi slashfic is?"

(Five minutes later)

*a shabbily dressed private wearing a Tommy helmet and dirty glasses shambles into the spotlight and with great difficulty reads from a cue card while flapping his arms wildly like a bird*

"Captain Handwaver is currently indisposed, and I shall be handwaving from now on…And now time for something different."

So yeah, I'm a dick. Another fun bit of trivia when the story was still young, I originally envisioned the Steel Dragon to be either a Predator drone, a A10 Warthog and finally decided on the AC130.

Whatever the 'Steel Dragon' was going to be, having Willy Pete ordnance was always going to be a given, so the 33rd and Delta Squad could confront their past demons. Finally, I know you've seen a lot of random crap be thrust into Helkeginia, but there is a method to my madness, and all will become clearer as the story reaches its conclusion. Having said that, I'm off to chill at a beach bar with a cigar and a Cuba Libre. In about a week's time I will be back at it, with a fresh tan and fully recharged.)