A/N: There is a longer author's note at the end of this, fucking read it. Also, to the review that pointed out that Big E is not a Nimitz Class, you're correct but I purposely chose for the reporter to state that incorrectly.

Epilogue

History will point out some of the things I did wrong and some of the things I did right. – George H. W. Bush

There never is a convenient place to fight a war when the other man starts it. – Arleigh Burke

1035L, 26 MAY 2023, Annapolis, MD

Internally, the twins groaned as their father stepped to the podium. He did not look like his fifty-six years. He looked like the man that had completed the Shamrock Half-Marathon in Virginia Beach twelve times, the San Diego Rock Roll Marathon five times, the Marine Corps Marathon eight times, and Iron Man Hawaii three times and podiumed once. Though he was more muscled than most of the runners he competed against. His appearance, along with that of their mother, had been a point of contention in their youth.

Artemis, the elder of the two twins by a mere six minutes, suffered through an extended puberty. Acne and a lack of womanly development led the girls in her class to mock her for her prolonged tween appearance. She resented her parents for it and that had continued well past her escape from that hell and until her second year in college. It was then that she and her brother's security clearance was approved. Only then did their parents take the time to explain why physical fitness meant so much to them. They revealed why their vanity compelled them to maintain such high aesthetic form despite being clearly in shape. Afterall, their mother had podiumed at seven of the twelve Iron Man races throughout the world, most of those after her retirement from the Navy with twenty years' service. They explained the scars that they never had before and why those had scars had driven them to such demanding physical fitness routines. Artemis knew it had to be some sort of PTSD, but she also knew they would refuse to accept that. They told stories of their careers that the children had never been cleared to hear.

Despite this as he reached the podium, they groaned, caught each other's eye from several rows away and smiled. The Annapolis heat hung over the seated masses. Eleven hundred and fifteen of them were Midshipmen First Class, Firsties, about to take their oath of office and commission as Navy Ensigns and Marine Corps Second Lieutenants. Thousands of others were the family, friends, significant others, and military hierarchy. Her brother, Apollo, had invited his girlfriend of five years. Her fiancée was in the stands as well, he had graduated from Annapolis the year before, the son of a Royal Air Force pilot and a retired Navy Public Affairs Officer who knew her father.

"Well, I'm hot as hell, so I can't imagine what you Marines in your blues are feeling like." A ripple of laughter carried across the crowd. "I have been wearing this uniform for thirty-four years. Since the day I sat where you sit now. I can tell you I don't regret a day of it, there will be days you do not like, days where it seems unbearable, but then there are days like today. Days when you get to watch young Americans begin a great journey. You can watch them take their first step as a leader for the nation. You can watch your children follow your footsteps in the hope that they surpass you." Again, applause rose from the crowd. "But, I think you've heard enough from me. Allow me to introduce, General Lee Fletcher Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps to administer the oath of office for the Marine lieutenants here today." He stepped to the side and motioned to the podium. The tall Marine aviator stepped forward.

"Before I administer the oath, I want to thank Vice Admiral Jackson. Demon and I have known each other for over thirty years. Percy's children sit amongst these young officers. To both Apollo and Artemis and all the new officers here, you have been raised and then led by the finest officer and man I've ever known. Demon is the Navy's record holder in carrier launches and landings, and among all U.S. active aviators, he has the most air to air victories. He's flown in every U.S. conflict since the Gulf War. He's flown Intruders, Hornets, Super Hornets, and F-35s, and I am honored to be introduced by him and to call him my friend." The entire stadium cheered, the soon to be officers and the underclass they would leave behind stood in ovation to the Superintendent of the Naval Academy, Vice Admiral Percy "Demon" Jackson. He rose and extended a hand in gratitude of their adulation. After the ceremony concluded he would enter the maelstrom like crowd and find his twins, both of whom had requested he perform their first salute. General Fletcher turned back to the anxious young officers. "Marines, on your feet."

0245L, 17 JUN 2024, Annapolis, MD

After her service in the Navy, which had culminated in 2010 with her retirement at the rank of Commander, and the thirty-four years of relationship with VADM Percy "Demon" Jackson, Zoe knew that the phone ringing at 0245 in the morning was not good. As her eyes fluttered open, she looked at the Garmin watch on her wrist, 0245. Shit, she thought. Zoe, due to her racing, had always been on the cutting edge of smart watches. Her husband, with a constant need to enter secure spaces, still relied upon his old Citizen.

They had only been awakened thrice during his tenure as superintendent. Once had been the alert that a Midshipman had passed away over Christmas leave. Another time had been their son not realizing the time difference between Guam and Maryland. The final had been when their daughter had been proposed to in Hawaii and she could not wait to tell them, despite knowing that her fiancée had spoken to her father first. Artemis was currently in Meridian, Mississippi, at NAS Meridian learning to fly Navy fixed wing aircraft with Training Squadron 9, VT-9. Apollo was in Pensacola, FL living his best newly single life and training to be a backseater in an EA-18G Growler.

"Reyna, what the fuck do you want?" Rear Admiral Reyna Avilla Ramirez-Arellano wore two stars on each collar of her uniform. She also served as the Deputy-Director of the Joint Staff, making her one of the most powerful officers within the Pentagon, despite the dozens that outranked her. Her star, like that of his other former wingman, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Annabeth "Buzz" Chavez still rose. Percy's star flew upon its apex. Superintendent of the Naval Academy was the end of the line for three-star admirals. She would no longer have to fight for his loyalty. The position would keep him in service until the thirty-six-year mark and he would retire and do whatever it was that retired admirals did.

Zoe could not hear Bee-Sting's response, but she heard Percy's. "Jesus motherfucking Christ. We've been warning that motherfucking cockbag for fucking years his goddamn dick would get him in trouble. And this time the mistress is a fucking enemy intelligence asset? Goddamn the motherfucker to hell." There was another break as Reyna continued to speak. Percy laughed at whatever she said and then stopped.

"Wait, your fucking serious?" A pause. "The fucking fleet, they want me to take over command of the fleet?" Reyna talked for a long while after this. It was not the first time he had been called from a shore duty to do the Navy's bidding. Hell, their anniversary was September 12th. Still dating when 9/11 happened they had known both their skills would be needed. Returning from a courthouse marriage, orders had been waiting for him. She had been a month pregnant and not realized, he was gone when the twins were born in May of 2002. She had officially been a reservist, but her language skills had been in demand, and she was recalled. Now, she only watched him leave.

"When's the flight leave? …. Of course, it does. …. Zero nine tomorrow at Andrews, understood." He disconnected the call and rolled over to look at his wife of twenty-two years. She spoke first.

"Is it bad?" He nodded. "And you're the solution?"

"They know me from when I ran future ops at the Pentagon. I've got an Assistant Commandant and the Deputy-Director of the Joint Staff supporting the idea. Hell, they said even Castellan as the Deputy SecDef spoke favorably, but that's probably because Talon is currently reigning as SECDEF."

"And you leave tomorrow?" he nodded, and she leaned over to kiss him.

"Not asking where?" he felt her answer against his ear.

"No time for that tonight." She murmured before pressing her lips against his and knew her dreams of monopolizing his time were over. She loved his sense of duty, but after this many years, it was growing tiresome. She kissed him again. She knew if he had made any other decision, it would not have been him.

The unspoken part was simple. The Navy called and, like always, he answered.

A/N: Well, I suspect the epilogue is not what most of you wanted. Before I go into any details of the story itself, I will address it ending here and in this way. The story has always been about the action, whether that's Percy's Gulf War raid, simulated dogfights and attack runs, or the culminating mission in Iraq. Now I have attempted to weave as much intra- and interpersonal aspects as I could around the action, but the fact of the matter is I think stories like this are better focused over a smaller scale of time. Now despite showing him in his fifties in the epilogue and it being 2023 and 2024, I intend to return to earlier in his career, which I have fully planned out already. The return will be an equally short story but expect it to be as in-depth if not more so because of Percy's changing positions and responsibilities.

Now to the story, this story was always going culminate with that strike into Iraq. What happened in Iraq went through multiple iterations. Annabeth and Percy were never going to be together. The rules about fraternization are quite clear. While officers are allowed to date or marry other officers, the fact that she worked for him would have resulted in a transfer at the least had they been together. It is quite clear in the regulations that people who command each other in combat cannot have a romantic relationship. Additionally, as I tried to show, female combat pilots were brand new. Any hint of inappropriate actions would have been catastrophic for the two individuals and for that process of gender integration. Also, I was not going to allow him to be Maverick and flaunt every rule and somehow inexplicably remain in service well beyond what should be allowed. The military is an up or out type of organization.

Callsigns: Callsigns are never glamorous. Percy and Charles are the exceptions to the rule, though only for a while due to a specific incident. Likewise, Demon is only acceptable because it is specifically tied to what Percy accomplished on that day and what the Iraqi pilots called him. Nearly every callsign is tied to something embarrassing. The Kangaroo Court that I describe when the callsigns are given to multiple pilots is a watered-down version of a K-Court, but those are the nights when callsigns become official.

This is about it for the A/N, considering most of you will not read it anyway. Thank you all to all who stuck around for this story. I've spoken with many of you through Discord on either the Emerald Library or CombatTombat's server, thanks for the questions and forcing me to not be lazy with details.

As a final note, the ending and the location of Percy's assignment are purposely vague. I prefer to use real-world incidents (First Gulf War/Operation Desert Fox) and given the current geo-political circumstances; I'm being very picky in the situation that would precipitate the phone call Percy receives.