Layla was the last of the five pilots to touch down. The whole time she was waiting, she felt unusually anxious- like she would drop right out of the sky if she didn't land soon. It didn't help that they only had one runway since they were still clearing the debris from the other F-16 squadrons off the other ones. Layla didn't know many of the other pilots outside of her squadron very well. In fact, she could barely remember any of their names aside from one- the leader of Imp Squadron, Jason something- it was a long Belkan surname she wouldn't have been able to pronounce if her life depended on it. Still, Layla was having trouble processing the fact that they were gone- all of them.

That's when the worries started to pour into her mind like water filling an empty basin. What if Erusea attacked again? Would they be able to get up in time to repel the attack? Would they even be able to repel the attack at all, or would their enemy instead send enough manpower to wipe them out completely? What if she wound up as the only pilot left alive? Before Layla even had time to acknowledge one question, another forced itself into her mind's eye. She hardly even realized that she had already touched down onto the runway and come to a full stop- safe and sound at last as her plane was reinforced by solid ground.

After taking a moment to collect herself, Layla started rolling slowly along the asphalt runway, and she couldn't help but let her eyes wander to survey the damage from the attack. A few of the anti-air vehicles had been destroyed, but despite that, the damage to the base itself didn't seem too bad- at least, that's what Layla first thought until she saw one of the hangars with its roof caved in thanks to a crashed drone. Medics were already there, carrying people caked in dust and rubble out on stretchers. Luckily, Gorgon Squadron's hangar was practically unscathed, as the one between theirs and the hangar that got hit took most of the collateral damage, which was minimal at best. The other four had already gotten out of their planes by the time the engine of Layla's F-16 had died down, and as she climbed onto the floor for what felt like the first time in ages, she made her way over to the congregation they were forming near the middle of the room.

"So just what the hell was that?" Rod asked. His hands were rooted firmly on his hips, and his right foot held most of the weight on his body until he shifted it to the left.

Jumper scoffed. "We know just as much as you, Rod. Read, jack shit."

"I mean… I think it's pretty clear what that was- an attack on our country, our city," Layla jumped in.

"Yeah, no shit, it was an attack on our country. What I'm saying is why. What reason would Erusea possibly have to attack us like this? How would Erusea even attack us like this?" Rod asked.

Monk forced himself into the center of the group, putting himself between everyone else and cooling the heated argument. "Look, we've all had a long and stressful day. It's not worth bickering over when Taves is probably gonna tell us everything he knows at the debrief, so let's just down there and see what the situation is."

Monk was good like that. In the few months that Layla had known the man for, she had yet to see a single argument that he couldn't defuse. Plus, he was just as good of a pilot as he was a smooth talker. He had been a role model for Layla since she was first assigned to his squadron, and she liked to think that it was because of him that she managed to get seven kills on her first combat sortie. Once he was sure everyone had simmered down, he began making his way out of the hangar and over to the briefing room, knowing that the other four would follow after him.

By the time Gorgon Squadron arrived, the room was totally packed. Layla barely managed to grab one of the last open seats near the back of the room. Her eyes drifted across the room before she leaned next to Rod and whispered, "There's gotta be at least half the people from the entire base here."

"I bet there's more," Rod replied. "Whatever's going on, it's important."

It wasn't until a few minutes later that Brigadier General Taves finally entered the crowded room. He made his way effortlessly through the crowd until he stood at the front of the room beside the large screen on the front wall. "I apologize for being late. I got called in for a joint call with the Chiefs of Staff to make my report to the President."

"Nice humble flex," Bumble whispered.

Taves carried on, moving over to the laptop that controlled the briefing screen and logging in. "As I'm sure you can all guess, shit has hit the fan." The screen powered up, and a map of Osea appeared. "At 13 hundred hours, the Kingdom of Erusea made a formal declaration of war against the Osean Federation."

The murmuring spread through the room like a plague, and Gorgon Squadron was certainly not immune. "What? Are they out of their damn minds?" Jumper asked at a tone only barely louder than Bumble's whispering.

Monk looked at the map pensively. "They must know they can't win against a global superpower. They've gotta have some kind of endgame here," he speculated, mostly to himself.

Taves raised a fist in the air, and the room went silent again. "The attacks we, along with several other ports across the country, faced today were carried out by drones that we believe were secretly transported in shipping containers ahead of time and then launched when the declaration broke out. Unfortunately, the damage to our Navy has been devastating. As many of you know by now, the OFS Captain Weeker, which was docked here at Aulick Port, was sunk during the attack. The story is the same at every other port that Erusea attacked."

"Christ. They just absolutely kneecapped us right off the bat," Jumper murmured. "All they're gonna have to fight are our IUN forces stationed on the continent."

Taves's eyes scanned the room, looking at each of his subordinates, albeit briefly, before moving on to the next one. "It's not all bad news, though," he reassured the men and women in front of him. "Firstly, the damage here could've been far worse, but thanks to Gorgon Squadron, the UAVs were prevented from doing any more damage to our Navy. Additionally, naval repair yards at Oured Port suffered minimal damage, and they're already working on repairs from one of the carriers that's still afloat, albeit barely, the OFS Falcon. With any luck, it'll be operational by the end of next month at the latest. Finally, the two Osean carriers at sea on the Usean continent, the OFS Vulture and Kestrel II, both survived the attacks, and the Kestrel II is preparing for a strike on Farbanti as we speak. I'll let you know once we have any updates, but for now, it seems we're relegated to playing the waiting game. That's all for now. You're dismissed."

Almost immediately, people began resuming their conversations as they stood up and filed out of the small door out into the main corridor slowly but surely. The five pilots of Gorgon Squadron hung back, waiting for the door to get considerably less crowded before they even attempted to leave.

"Well… shit," Bumble said, finally breaking the silence between them.

Jumper chuckled. "Yeah. You can say that again."

"I just… I- I can't believe it," Rod stammered. "We're really at war again- not even a decade after the Circum-Pacific ended."

Monk kept his eyes fixed on the door, and when he saw that the crowd squeezing through had finally let up, he turned around to face his squadron. "C'mon, you guys, I think what we all need right now is some food in our stomachs."

As the five pilots made their way to the mess hall, Layla wasn't quite sure what to think about anything, or perhaps her mind was just too overwhelmed that she wasn't able to think clearly. She honestly couldn't tell. When they arrived, she found herself caught off-guard by how empty the room seemed. She thought that just about everyone from the briefing room would've headed here as soon as they were out, but from what she saw, there were less than a dozen people, not counting them.

Gorgon Squadron sat down at one of the numerous empty tables dotting the mess hall. For a minute, they all looked around at each other in silence, unsure of what they should say- of what they could say. As Layla looked around at the others, she suspected that they were all in the same boat as her: too overwhelmed to process everything that they had just learned. The only one she wasn't confident about this was Monk. He simply looked out the window, gazing at the first yellow hues of twilight with the stoic face he often wore.

Finally, Jumper broke the silence. "Gonna feel a hell of a lot quieter here without the boys from Imp and Goblin," he murmured soberly.

"Damn straight. They were good guys," Bumble agreed, catching Layla by surprise with his sudden uncharacteristic somberness.

"The worst part is that they're probably just the first of a hell of a lot of people that are gonna die in this war," Rod pointed out.

"Hey, let's not forget, the war could be over soon," Layla pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood. "If the Kestrel II succeeds, Erusea could lose their capital within the first week at the latest. That'd be a huge blow."

"It won't matter," Monk finally said.

Layla looked over at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"It won't matter," the squadron leader repeated, keeping his gaze fixed on the window. "The die has already been cast. There's no avoiding the suffering that's going to happen now. That's the nature of war."

Layla gave his shoulder a friendly nudge. "That some of the wisdom you spouted that earned you your callsign?"

Monk finally looked away from the window, spinning around to face her. "I'm being serious, Singer! Thousands of people, innocent and not, are going to die."

Layla didn't know what to say. She had never known Monk to raise his voice like that, and she wasn't really sure how to react. He was right, she knew that much, but all she wanted to do was at least try to keep everyone's spirits up. She didn't want them to be mopey and down all the time, and usually, her witty sarcasm gave just the kind of levity they needed. This was something else, though, and it was seeing the hint of fear in the eyes of her squadron leader that finally made her realize that. She murmured a brief apology and kept her eyes glued to the table.

"You guys think we're gonna get shipped out to Usea once we're able?" Rod asked after an uncomfortably awkward silence for Layla.

"Too early to say, I think," Jumper replied. "This next month is probably gonna be the most important part of the war. If we can get even one carrier back up like Taves was talking about, that'll be a game-changer. If not, they'll probably have to send reinforcements by cargo ship or something," he speculated, leaning against the back of his chair.

"I mean… at this point, I think it can only go uphill for us," Layla managed to squeak out. She was by no means a strategist, but she liked to think she learned something from her officer's training. "It's not like things could get much worse." As if on cue, she felt a buzzing in her pants. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone to see an incoming call from a number she didn't recognize. Normally, she hung up on any number not saved in her contacts, but since it had a Durant area code, she humored it. "Hello?" she asked as she put the phone up to her ear.

A young woman on the other end spoke. "Hi, is this Layla Nadir?" she asked.

Layla nodded as if the caller could see her. "You're speaking with her," she confirmed.

Her heart sank at the words she heard next. "This is St. John's Hospital calling. Your father's in the emergency room."