Alex touched down lightly on the runway attached to the Stonehenge turret. As was per usual, he was the last from the squadron to land. Of the aircraft on the ground, the overwhelming majority of them were either F-15s or F-35s. He looked around. The other pilots had all disembarked. By the time that Alex had made it over to a hangar and disembarked, most of the pilots were going over to change or to listen to the debrief. The only people waiting for him were Commander Marcus Snow and Major Hans Grimm.

'So that's your penal unit? A bunch of Eagles?' Snow asked as Alex walked over to him.

'A couple of them are from my penal unit. But that's not the penal unit.' Alex answered. He slung his helmet over his shoulder.

'Another transfer?'

'As always.' Alex had a long history of being changed from unit to unit, it would seem.

'How do we keep managing to bump into each other in completely different squads?' Snow asked. He had a point. Even back in the Circum-Pacific War when Alex was in Wardog Squadron, they had met at Saint Hewlett, and later on he had been shot down by the then F-14A pilot over the Ceres Ocean.

'Dumb luck?' Grimm suggested. Alex nodded. The most likely answer. Unless there was such thing as fate, which Alex didn't believe.

'Real question is, who did you piss off to get here?' Alex asked Snow.

'No-one. I volunteered.' Snow answered. His old wingman and squad leader weren't surprised. 'And I see you got your extra stripe.' Snow pointed out Alex's Commander rank slide. He looked at it.

'Maybe. Anyway, have fun, I need to take a piss.' Alex excused himself and dashed ahead of the group, looking for a restroom. Snow stopped and looked at him as he ran off. Grimm stopped with him.

'Always on the move.' Snow mused. Grimm scoffed. The two went to the crew ready room to get out of their suits.

Later that day

After taking said toilet break, Alex had put away his gear, found an abandoned room near the hangars and crashed. After the long trek to get from Orca Air Base to Stonehenge and the resulting clusterfuck of a battle, he was exhausted. Alex woke up just before 8-o'clock at night. The instant he laid up, his stomach cramped. He ran over to the nearby sink. The cramp turned into a force that pushed everything out of his stomach, causing the man to vomit. Most of the contents in his stomach were liquid, so the vomiting fit was over quickly. Alex breathed in and out to calm himself. His throat and mouth burned. He was shaking. Alex had only had this feeling a few times before. Twice in 2010 and once in 2012.

On the other side of the base, the base garrison and the LRSSG were throwing up a victory party. There was a barbeque cooking all sorts of meats. Cheap beer was flowing through most of the personnel on the base. At one of the tables away from the action, Sara - Mythic - was watching the commotion while quietly sipping out of a can of lemonade. Because of her occupation, she didn't drink.

'Enjoying yourself?' A voice called from behind her. Mythic looked over her shoulder. It was one of the other female LRSSG pilots. Huxian, Mythic seemed to remember.

'Yeah.' Mythic answered, watching the spectacle from her table. Huxian chuckled and took a seat next to the 20-year old pilot prodigy.

'Not very talkative, are you?' Huxian noted one of Sara's tendencies. The latter laughed quietly.

'No reason to be.' Sara appreciated Huxian's presence. She wasn't the only one who disliked parties. The two looked at the party raging ahead. Most of the guys were singing broken parts of songs that they remembered while music blared. A few were seriously drunk; Lanza, Wiseman and Trigger for example, while many others were under the influence but were still capable of coherent thought.

'Can't say I envy them.' From behind the two, Grimm piped up. He had appeared from the side of the group. The sleeves of his uniform had cooking oil stains on them.

'Not a fan of parties?' Sara asked her old commanding officer.

'Not ones with alcohol involved.' Grimm said. He grimaced faintly.

'That's probably my fault.' Even Alex had shown up. Grimm turned to face him. He frowned.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.' Grimm piped up. Alex had a gleam of sweat covering his face, and he swore the guy was shaking.

'Bad dream.' Alex waved it off casually. 'What did I miss?'

'Celebration party.' Huxian answered. Alex almost rolled his eyes, remembered that he was guilty of the same thing, and stopped the motion as it started.

'Hey, Commander?' Sara asked Alex.

'Mmm?' He replied.

'What did you do to the major to sway him away from alcohol?' She asked. Grimm and Alex exchanged an awkward glance.

'So-' Alex began to speak.

'Basically there was a birthday party for one of the squad leaders at Sand Island in 2010, and this fucker managed to convince me to have a few cans.' Grimm cut Alex off.

'Okay. And?' Huxian waited for the punchline of the story.

'Grimm's liver doesn't like alcohol, so I almost ended his career with a heart attack.' Alex finished the story. Huxian and Sara both grimaced. Grimm and Alex both laughed.

'How we became friends after that, I don't know. Oh christ.' Alex took a breath to cut off his laughing fit.

The party lasted until just before midnight, where everyone was ordered to rest and cut off the celebrations. Alex was returning to the room that he had borrowed when Snow found him and pulled him aside.

'Alex?' Snow called out to him.

'Yeah?' Alex answered the call.

'Do you need a fourth man?' Snow asked. He was referring to Alex's Razgriz Squadron.

'Yes. You want to jump in on the LRSSG van?'

'I'd fit in better with your squad.'

'Fair enough. Alright, welcome.'