Chapter 4:

Year 839

1200Z

Special Region

TAC name: Trigger

Light blinded Trigger's eyes. At first he had to cover them, then he saw. One thing he noted was the ground paved with Asphalt, and there being many soldiers around the convey. Trigger knew that they were waiting on their arrival, but Trigger noted that there were just so many soldiers who looked as though they were on high alert.

What could be so important?

Trigger surveyed his surroundings even through the little window of the humvee he was in; after all, he had a knack of knowing his surroundings very well, thus his high situational awareness. Other than the walls surrounding the base, what Trigger could see was a lot of… green.

'So much green…'

Trigger noted how untouched the land was, free from human interaction. Other than the base that occupied some of this land, it was still a sight to see. Of course, being surrounded by buildings was a world that Trigger was used to, but to see such luscious greenery…

He averted his gaze over to the mountains in the distance, their peaks soaring above the clouds. He could also see they were covered in snow, as they were so high up snow would be formed up there.

So beautiful, so calming, yet why do I feel like there is something more ominous?

Even so, he certainly wasn't naive enough to believe the Special Region would be the fantastical place he once heard about, having been marred by inter-conflict as well as inter-dimensional war since its discovery, but it still would've been nice to see something to instantly separate it from any similarity to his home that the Empire brought havoc to.

Not wanting to linger on the similarities and differences of Osea and the Special Region, he simply just shut down his thoughts, when the humvee suddenly grinded to a halt. His overlooking officer sitting beside him chimed,

"This is our stop, we should get out."

Along with the officer, Trigger cautiously opened the door of the humvee and stepped outside. The first thing that greeted him was the freshness of the air that he breathed in.

Without the pollution that is usually generated in a city, the Special Region was free of the dust or smog that Trigger was accustomed to back in Oured. It was a new experience as he basked in the sunlight.

Soldiers were scurrying about, trying to de-load the new equipment that came through the Gate. The M1 Abram tanks that came through with their convoy trundled away to their respective positions, which would be somewhere around the base; at least that's what Trigger assumed. A massive structure caught Trigger's eye, and he turned his head to look at it.

'An Aegis Ashore…'

"What you're looking at is basically the heart of this base." His overlooking officer said while walking up to Trigger.

"A pinnacle of defense technology. Tested it out here during the Lighthouse War when Erusea started deploying their own Aegis Ashores. Safe to say, this base is still standing due to this very building."

One thing that Trigger noted was the weaponry surrounding the building. When he was against an Aegis Ashore when fighting against Erusea, he always encountered CIWS and AA fire, but the difference here was that the structure had railguns and C RAMs defending it.

"Jesus Christ" Trigger breathed. He looked over to the officer,

"Is all this defense really necessary? I've heard the people of the Special Region are technologically inferior to us."

"You're right. The railguns are actually in the testing phase right now to see if it is compatible with the Aegis Ashore platform. Unfortunately, with the new enemy that has been working with the empire, we've actually had to speed up the process to get the railguns to match with the platform's software and hardware. We also have had to use them to shoot at aircraft that have been sighted recently, but so far they've only been drones."

"They're spying on us…"

"One thing is for sure, they are a force to be reckoned with, which is why this base is on high alert for the first time since its construction. We've never expected them to be on the attack so fast…"

The officer looked somber while Trigger just stood there collecting his thoughts. It was then Trigger realized something. He turned to the officer, and asked,

"Say, I never got your name"

"It's Eric, Eric Davenport."

"Davenport? As in…"

"Yes, my older brother was Alvin Davenport."

"He was a true hero, I'm sorry for your loss."

'His brother was Chopper huh…'

Trigger knew the legend of Alvin H. Davenport, TAC name Chopper. All his time back in the Fort Grays Air Base, he'd hear stories about the heroics that this pilot had done during the Circum Pacific War. Even though Trigger did not know this man at all, he felt emphatic towards Eric.

'Losing family is hard', he thought.

The two of them stood there in awkward silence, before Eric started to look around, trying to start a conversation. At last, something caught his eye, and exclaimed,

"Those are your new squad mates, you should go introduce yourself."

Eric gave a prod to Trigger's shoulder as he said that.

'Huh? Them?!'

Trigger looked at the direction Eric was pointing towards; five figures, standing around each other. One could assume it was a gathering of a long lost friend group, but Trigger knew,

They're not speaking with each other, so goddamn awkward they are…

Eric gave a slight push, to which Trigger grumbled in defeat and started walking towards the group.

The worst thing I could do is be taken by surprise, especially over here.

He cautiously reminded himself as five figures standing near the building came into view.

Just beyond them, he could see soldiers efficiently storing the machinery that made its entrance before him. His eyes lingered on his F-22A Raptor, a mixture of conflicting feelings twisting in his stomach at the sight of it and he could feel his hands almost begin to clam up the more he lingered on the memories forever etched into the aircraft.

This is not the time…

Trigger lightly chided to himself as he took a few intentionally deep breaths until he could feel his heart rate begin to slow back down. Now in a calmer state, he made his strides up to the group of people he presumed were the complimentary personnel he was to be on this mission with.

His mask of professional indifference that he wore so diligently around people he doesn't know very well, faltered as the five figures became clearer in his vision with each step he took.

Just twenty paces ahead of him was a tall man, evidently at least a few years older than Trigger, and three other individuals standing near him.

He couldn't make out their faces all that well, but he could see three of them were men and one was a woman, appearing to be closer to his age. Then, there was the final figure…

Are those… cat ears…?

Though his steps slowed, he actively fought to keep a neutral face. It wasn't unheard of for native dwellers of the Special Region to join the Air Force, even more so considering the horrors he heard of the Empire enacting on local villages before they made their plight on Osea.

Nonetheless, he had never encountered such a person directly before, nor did he have any desire to make a bad impression by marveling at them and making them uncomfortable.

'Keep it cool, you know how weird it is when people stare at you…'

Though Trigger was sure his experience paled in comparison to this individual, he did understand what it felt like to have a reputation precede you when meeting someone for the first time. He thought back to the shock on many soldiers' faces when he spoke seamlessly.

Always assumed to be a mute by many, he never favored the theatrics that came with him talking. He couldn't imagine the woman with cat ears and a tail would take all that kindly to the wide eyes and agape jaw he had grown accustomed to seeing directed at him from time to time.

"There he is!" Trigger hears a gruff, yet jovial, voice call out. The tall man looked in his direction, the three pilots around him following suit, "Last one of our little group to arrive." He clasps his hands together and they make a dull clap.

The cat-person looks over and the two exchange a polite nod. Her eyes are just as striking as her appearance, but his face remains neutral with ease, "Now's a better time than ever to rehash introductions since the whole squadron is here.." Her voice was soft yet strong as she spoke, a smile to match on her face as Trigger completed the group's circle.

The tall man nodded, "Name's Garland Franks, pilot." He proclaimed proudly, a bright smile on his face despite the more dull color to his teeth as he stuck out a calloused hand.

"Trigger, pilot." He introduced himself, his hand meeting Garland's. The older man's handshake was a bit too firm, but nothing too bad as they let go of each other.

The other three pilots elected to salute Trigger instead of shaking his hand, which he appreciated. Handshakes were always a bit awkward, plus if theirs were as intense as Garland's it would undoubtedly make him a bit sore.

"Jason Sykes, pilot." The first one that initiated the salute greeting stated.

"Hina Miyazaki, pilot." The woman next to him gruffs out.

"Jerome Garza, pilot." The last man proclaimed.

The cat-person chose instead to give Trigger another light nod of acknowledgement,

"Emily Virgo, demi-human, in case anyone is dying to know."

Her eyes caught sight of Jerome noticeably sighing in relief and Trigger fought the urge to roll his eyes at the other pilot for being so obvious,

"I'm an AWACS operator. You can call me Emily but most people call me Sidewinder. I'll be your guys' eye in the sky." Trigger let a half-smile slip.

It's nice to not be the only one with a nickname.

"When did you join the force?" Garland asked curiously.

There was a flash of melancholy in Sidewinder's eyes before it was quickly hidden with her polite smile, "A while back, but I've been living on Avalon for the past year." She explained almost as if it was rehearsed, making Trigger wonder how many times she's been asked to explain her presence in the Air Force.

Garland nodded, taking in the information thoughtfully before speaking again, "You must really know your way around here then!" He gleefully concluded, "What a great asset you are!" Yet again, he clasped his hands together as a show of excitement.

"With you and the infamous Trigger, we'll crush this mission!" Hina matched Garland's excitement with ease.

"Infamous?" Sidewinder raised a brow, turning her gaze to Trigger.

"I wouldn't say-" He began only to be interrupted.

"Oh yeah, I heard you were a mute." Jerome mumbled.

So having a lack of tact must be his thing, then.

Instead of giving into his bitter thoughts Trigger offers a tight smile, "Rumors are a funny thing." He said, but there was little to no humor to be had in his voice.

Sure, interpersonal relationships had never been his favorite thing to cultivate, but he wasn't some cold robot that the rumors paint him as.

If anything, those rumors solidify how he doesn't even need to talk or put on a fake smile to be known. He's heard he was everything from a mute to an empty shell of a human, and though they bother him, he doesn't find any value in going out of his way to make an impression.

'It is what it is I guess…'

Even with the five people in front of him, he didn't feel a need to be overly kind like Garland or overly encouraging like Hina. Jerome and Jason have yet to prove to be trying hard at portraying anything while Sidewinder just seemed like a person that was naturally kind.

Regardless, no good would come from pretending to be something he's not. The six of them would come together for this mission and when the mission is done, they would go their separate ways. He was sure of this, because in all his years in the Air Force, it had almost always been this way.

"I guess we'll all get to know each other real well throughout this mission." Garland patted the middle of Jerome's back with a boisterous grin. Jerome stumbled forward before standing up straight to return the older man's smile,

"Careful there, I got a heavy hand even when I didn't realize it." He laughs and the three pilots around him join in. Trigger could force in nothing but a smile, in which Sidewinder only did the same. The scene was eerie to watch, but Trigger couldn't quite understand why.

"Well, we better get settled and then we can regroup." Sidewinder cut into the inexplicable tension, giving Trigger a nod, "I look forward to getting to know everyone."

With that, they all went their separate ways as Trigger sought out his compound, trying to keep his mind clear. Still, he'd be lying if he said a part of him wasn't bitterly surprised by the fact that so soon after the carnage of the Lighthouse War, his fellow soldiers were keen on getting to know each other.

In the end, it would just make their inevitable separation from one another that much worse. While he didn't exactly anticipate the mission to become so dire for one or more of them to die, the war taught him it would be quite foolish to assume anyone is guaranteed a tomorrow.

He blinked, but he was still able to flick through the lengthy catalog of people the war took from him each time his eyes closed. The best case scenario was finishing this mission with no new friends, especially ones that he could lose.

For one, he hated that mindset, but after the separation of Strider squadron, Trigger knew that trying to become close with his new squad mates would make him feel attached to them. He did not want another Wiseman situation to happen again.

((Wiseman…))

Trigger kicked a rock that was by his foot, trying to distract himself and not be engrossed in more thoughts. After all, he was very good at silencing his emotions when it was necessary, or 'muting' as he called it.

It took Trigger a few minutes to try and find the area he was supposed to stay in. Eric had told him compound 04 was where he was staying at, but the base's layout was so convoluted it was hard to find anything at least. At last, compound 04 came into view.

'Looks more like an aircraft hanger than anything…'

Trigger walked up to the compound and opened the door. There were several lines of rooms that dominated the inside, making them seem like makeshift apartments. It looked as if the lines of rooms were built in haste, as if the accommodation was not big enough for the amount of new soldiers that were coming through the Gate.

'Room 15, how ironic'

Trigger opened the door to his new 'apartment'. A little window was the first thing to come into view, the sun beaming in light from its strong rays. A bed was by the window, accompanied by a desk, and a wardrobe on the other side. He walked in, closed the door and locked it. The first thing he did was walk over to the wardrobe and open it.

Nothing

Trigger let out a small, stifled laugh and threw his duffel bag inside. He let out a sigh, then collapsed on his bed. Tired from the talk he had with his new squadron, Trigger decided that a nap would be the nicest thing right now. Trigger closed his eyes, where he hoped that he would not dream of anything, and just have a calm dose of sleep.

1800Z

(Day 1 of the arrival of TAC name Trigger on Avalon)

Mess hall, Hanger 6, Avalon AFB (OSEA)

((Can you hear me, pilot with the Three Strikes?))

Trigger woke up with a start. His sweat covered his whole sheets, and the new bed that had been given to him was already ruined.

"Goddamn it."

He stood up, hating himself that he would need to change his bedsheets again, and went over to his wardrobe. Surprisingly, he saw that new clothes were hung up there, although he did not hear anyone enter his room. He looked around. Nothing in his room indicated that a person was in here recently, but with all the new clothes that were in his wardrobe... It was enough for Trigger to be more cautious.

'Guess I should be more careful with my surroundings…'`

He looked back into the wardrobe, where he chose a white t-shirt and a pair of shorts to accompany it. The Osean Defense Force logo could be seen on the right chest side of the shirt. With that, Trigger checked the time on his smartphone.

The personnel on base told Trigger that WiFi would be available next week, but for now would have to resort to using Zulu time to know precisely what time it was. 1730Z.

Trigger decided to grab some grub, in which he stepped out of his apartment, locked his door, and walked down the long corridor of compound 04.

1800Z

Now, Trigger knew that Hanger 06 was the general mess hall, and that the distances between compound 04 and Hanger 06 would be a slightly long walk, but he did not know that it would be a very LONG walk.

Disappointed that he would have to walk at least a mile to go get food, Trigger looked around; he could see the Aegis Ashore, with its windows gleaming against the descending sunset. Its railguns could be seen surrounding the building, a force to be reckoned with, along with the C RAMS that accompanied the railguns.

To his left, he saw a drill sergeant ordering soldiers on a run, in which they complied and started running towards his specific direction. They passed him; he could hear their huffing and puffing while their drill sergeant were screaming down their throats.

'Haha, nuggets.'

Trigger remembered back in his nugget days, where the training was grueling and hard on his body. Swearing to never do something like that again, he finally reached his destination. He knew because what other hangers had the numbers '06' so big and revealing at the top? Laughing at this, Trigger took a deep breath and opened the door to the mess hall.

The first thing that hit Trigger was the smell of sausages. He could see soldiers laughing and bantering about with their peers, chowing down on their food. He immediately thought back to his old AWACs Longcaster, whose love of food was unrivaled.

'Longcaster would love this place', Trigger thought as he joined the line which he presumed was the line to get food. It was not a long line, but he really wanted to get his food tray and just go into a corner, where no one would disturb him.

Trigger was not the type to make many friends, as he found that having deep connections and losing them hurt like nothing else. Soon enough, the line started moving fast and Trigger was able to get his food.

Sausages and mashed potatoes, with gravy and toast on the side. Served with complementary cheesecake.

Trigger could feel his mouth water, piling as much food as he could on his tray before overfilling it. Once he was done with that, he looked around the mess hall, trying to find an empty spot. Everywhere he looked, most of the long lines of tables were occupied, in which he sighed and headed for a spot that was empty.

'Hey, is that who I think it is?'

'It's the Three Strikes, THE Three Strikes.'

'I've heard he has an insane kill count…'

'I've heard he's a heartless mute…'

'He's shorter and more dull looking than I thought.'

Trigger sighed. This was why he did not want to interact with anyone. The rumors about him being on Avalon had already spread like wildfire, and anyone who saw his face either looked at him with admiration or fear.

'Fuck these rumors…' Trigger thought in spite. At last, he found a table with no occupants. He set his food down, and started with the mashed potatoes. The creamy texture was enough for Trigger to drown out the conversations that were happening around him.

Finishing his food was an afterthought for Trigger, as he finished it quicker than he thought. He stood up, returned his tray, and started to head out. At the corner of his eye, he spotted Garland and the three other pilots, whose names he'd already forgotten, bantering away with each other.

'They must know each other fairly well…'

On the right side, Trigger spotted Sidewinder eating with what he presumed were other demi-humans. Rabbit ears, raccoon ears, you name it.

'Guess they all come in some shape or form' Trigger thought.

Not thinking too hard into how the anatomy of a demi-human works, as he presumed it was more complicated than a regular human's, Trigger walked towards the hangar door, stepped out into the now dusk sky, and headed back for his apartment. The fresh, cool air hit his face, and Trigger took a deep breath.

'I was doing the same exact thing five days ago, but in Osea and with Avril. How things change…'

The sky was now turning dark. With night time starting to settle in, Trigger arrived at compound 04, and went into his apartment. He sat down at his desk, fully satiated with his meal, and started to unpack his things from his duffel bag that he threw into his wardrobe earlier. All he really had were small, menial items, but the one thing he made sure to bring was a picture of his now deceased parents, whom he really did not know all too well.

All he knew about his parents were that they were good, simple people who worked very average jobs in Oured. At the same time, he also learned later on from Brownie that his mother and father were very good friends with her parents, and when they were killed in the Circum Pacific War, Brownie's parents took Trigger in as one of their own, raising him to be the man he is today.

'Brownie…'

Brownie's death had a huge impact on Trigger's mental state. It is why he had to teach himself to 'mute' his feelings when flying on missions. He sighed and rubbed his cheeks. He could feel the tears coming out, but decided to hold back, as nothing would bring her back. He would never forgive Mihaly for killing Brownie, but he also knew that there was nothing personal to it.

'War is war'

Suddenly feeling sick, Trigger decided that an early night's rest was the best way to forget about the whole ordeal. Collapsing on his bed once again, Trigger did not bother to change the bedsheets, which were thankfully now dry from his sweat, and closed his eyes.

Trying to not dream, he instead thought about what tomorrow was going to bring, and with all the strange things he encountered today, his mind started to falter, and he soon fell asleep.

2300Z

Trigger woke up to the sounds of alarms blaring in his apartment. An alarm? A wakeup call? Trigger could not understand why a wakeup call would be issued this late into the night, until the next three words that came over the loudspeaker sent chills down his spine.

INCOMING, INCOMING, INCOMING

'An attack? How? From where?' was all Trigger could think about as he threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Basically sprinting at this point from his apartment, Trigger threw himself outside the door of compound 04 and was just in time to see the C-RAMs firing at something.

A spray of bullets illuminated the air, and then deafening BANGS followed up along with more spraying of bullets. Blue hues of light could be seen illuminating the sky, in which Trigger presumed they were the railguns.

'What could they possibly be intercepting?! Are the people of the Special Region more technologically advanced than we thought they were?!'

As Trigger tried to collect his thoughts, he noticed that they were intercepting some sort of trail that had appeared out of the sky; they almost looked like meteorites. Trigger saw other soldiers scurrying about, either in a panic or going to their prospective battle stations. Trigger stopped one of them and asked with intent,

"What's going on, what are they firing at?!"

The soldier, panting, and trying to collect his words, shouted,

"It's a magic attack! The Empire is firing at us with magic infused fireballs! They're practically missiles!"

(Credit: bibbykins 'introduction')