May 9, 2064
10:57
After about two uneventful weeks, M4 SOPMOD along with Kalina had managed to finish an alpha build of a jet based combat simulator for the aviators to use to keep their skills sharp without burning half of the base budget on fuel and weapons.
The simulator was currently in a pretty bare bones state; the only plane was the F-15EX, the flight model felt like an arcade game, and the only armaments available were guns and heatseakers… which worked on literally anything including ground targets according to M4 SOPMOD. And they could carry several of them—upwards of 180 missiles—while only being able to visibly see two mounted onto the airframe.
That aside, the jets were pretty functional for what they were, albeit the systems were overly simplified. The radar was some omnipotent being capable of picking up anything with a mechanical pulse in a one hundred-ish mile radius.
Countermeasures were dumbed down to pressing a button whenever a missile went off. It also had unlimited uses but was given a seven second cooldown for 'balance' or something like that. Anything more complex such as electronic warfare or the HSI page were completely absent, though Maven would cut some slack as those weren't completely necessary in a combat simulation.
The Heads Up Display was rather interesting. At first glance he wanted to say it was just ripped from the F-16 but there some changes. The bank indicator at the bottom was absent as was the additional information usually present bottom right on the HUD. The speed and scroll tapes for airspeed and altitude were replaced with two simple brackets; the left was still a speed indicator, though for whatever reason it used military power as the baseline, with anything above or below that reflecting on the HUD. The right side was turned into a range indicator for whatever weapon he was currently using.
A pretty smart design choice in his opinion.
A feature that he was surprised made it in was the helmet-mounted cueing system. At least Grizzly would have something interesting to do since nothing in the backseat actually worked aside from the radar which was just stretched across the display, not even properly might he add. It was literally the same as stretching a picture with a 4:3 aspect ratio onto a screen with a 16:9 aspect ratio.
For the sake of testing though, M4 SOPMOD did ask the two aviators to seek out willing participants for the role. They first went to squad Grizzly as they were the most familiar with those dolls. Maven swore he saw the bear like T-Doll transform into a chibi for a moment when they brought the news to them, but was more surprising was that M82 volunteered as well.
Which leads back to the current moment. A one-on-one within visual range dogfight with Maven and Grizzly against Expulse and M82. Maven felt a small twinge of sympathy for his backseater, silently hoping that M82 wouldn't clam up once the two pilots start doing their usual near physics-denying maneuvers.
"Alright, alright! Been a while since we've gone against each other." Maven exclaimed excitedly. "So here's the quick game plan, I'll handle the flying and you can have fun shooting the missiles, sounds good?"
"Uhhh… I don't know how?" Grizzly meekly replied.
"Right, my bad. Off to the side, there's going to be a knob labeled 'HMD', just twist that all the way to the right and it should come on."
Grizzly did as instructed and turned the HMD symbology knob to the maximum brightness. There was a couple seconds of delay before the heads up display was projected to her right eye. There wasn't too much clutter thankfully; it had the heading, some random information that Grizzly didn't understand, a dashed circle in the middle with the label 'HEAT SEEKER 2' underneath, all enclosed by a larger circle.
"It's on." Grizzly stated. "What do I do from here?"
"Uhh, assuming that Kalina and SOPMOD didn't mess with it too much; keep the other jet in the middle of the smaller circle until you get a steady tone and pull the trigger." Maven explained. "I'll let you know when to shoot."
"That's a lot of assumptions you're making…" Grizzly pointed out.
"Well yeah, neither Expulse or I were given a run down on how everything works." Maven deadpanned. "Anything else?
"No, I should be fine for now..." Grizzly responded nervously from the rear seat.
Maven could sense the unease in the T-Doll's voice. "Nervous?"
"It's just my first time doing something like this!" Grizzly replies all flustered. "It's normal to be nervous, no?"
The aviator started laughing, causing a pout to form on Grizzly's face which he unfortunately couldn't see.
"Don't worry about it, I doubt you'll be any worse than Expulse was on his first run. Half of the noise he made were various curse words." Maven chuckled at the memory. "Think he might have actually pissed his pants at some point."
Grizzly couldn't help but laugh as well. "And the other half?"
"Different variations of 'I want to go home' and 'Shoot the asshole down'."
The two shared another laugh.
"On a related note, dude's right on our nose, closing fast, about to merge." Maven pointed out, his competitive spirit already amped-up. "Remember, just point and shoot."
"I hear you—EEP!"
Grizzly let out what was in his opinion a rather cute noise, startled by the sonic boom produced by Expulse passing by. Maven was already pulling towards the enemy jet, going into a one circle fight. Both pilots were pulling hard on their sticks, minimizing their turn radius—which both of them noted that the jets turned a lot faster than real life—in an attempt to jam each other's weapons employment zone and force a guns only fight.
"Uh-uhh missile, MISSILE!" Grizzly practically shrieked. "TWO OF THEM!"
"He shot two? Huh, interesting." Maven dismissed nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it."
His disregard of Expulse's missiles would be proven correct as they attempted to turn towards Maven but ended up overshooting, not having enough distance to properly adjust for their position. Just as the two planes were about to pass each other, Expulse fired out a stream of bullets in a follow up attempt to quickly end the engagement.
Grizzly let out more distressed noises from the backseat as the tracers flew over them, Expulse's nose not quite in the right position to hit them.
"Damn, he's out for blood today." Maven blandly stated, keeping his eyes on the adversary jet as he pulled towards Expulse. "I wonder how M82 is faring."
"Probably also a nervous wreck?" Grizzly replied back, tone laced with sarcasm.
"I would've guessed passed out or whatever the doll equivalent is, but I don't know why you're like this." Maven responded, mildly amused. "Shouldn't you be used to getting shot at?"
"H-hey shut up, it's not the same!" He could practically hear the blush of embarrassment from the T-Doll. "I'm fully reliant on you for my safety here!"
"...It's a simulation."
"My point still stands—EEP!"
Grizzly was caught once again caught off guard by another stream of bullets from Expulse as he tried to gun them down again, failing to do so as he got unlucky with his positioning again.
At this point, both pilots had loss a considerable amount of airspeed—Expulse more so than Maven—and with the latter overshooting again, Maven attempted to capitalize on the opening. Cutting power to the engines to minimize his turn radius, and reigniting the afterburners once his nose was roughly on Expulse's six.
"Come on. lock him up, Grizzly!"
Grizzly directed her gaze onto the jet in front of her. A staccato of beeps rung through the cockpit before becoming a steady high pitched growl.
"You got tone, shoot!"
Grizzly hastily pulled the trigger twice, firing off two heatseakers at Expulse, copying the dual volley strategy WSO was currently using.
"Fox two, fox two." Maven called out.
Unfortunately for the pilot–bear duo, Expulse made use of his countermeasures, causing both missiles to confuse the flares for the jet.
"Dammit, it went for the flares."
The next move took Maven completely by surprise as Expulse suddenly raised his nose in an inhumane high-G turn that would've easily shredded off the wings of the F-15 had this been real life and stalled enough for Maven to overshoot him.
Grizzly, who was relatively calm up until now, was panicking at the sudden turn of events, shrieking about the inbound missiles as the radar warning blared in the cockpit. Maven on the other hand merely watched the jet pass by with a blank expression.
"Well that's just unironic bullshit now. Last time I checked, the F-15 is not be able to pull off a cobra. Adding that to the list of complaints I'm going to lodge after this."
"What the hell is ironic bullshit supposed to be!?" Grizzly yelled at the aviator for his lack of any emotion.
Maven wouldn't get a chance to respond as the radar warning blared again and the cockpit was bathed in a red light. He only noticed now due to keeping his eyes on the enemy jet for most of the time, but the 'radar' also displayed missiles.
And there was one just right behind him and Grizzly.
"Son of a bitch." Maven cursed before slamming the counter measures release again. "Flares out! Flares out!"
The missiles went after the flares even at this range. Maven suspected the missiles were coded to go dumb the moment countermeasures were used. But he had more pressing things on his mind, such as the bloodthirsty hound that was Expulse on his six.
The radar warning blared once again as Expulse fired off another missile.
"Oh that fucking smartass…" Maven sighed underneath his breath.
Shoot once to get him to flare and then shoot again during the seven second cooldown.
It only registered in Maven's mind that he didn't actually know what would happen after he was shot down. He wasn't aware of how 'dying' in simulations worked, so he leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and prayed to whatever deity existed out there that it would be painless.
Instead of the sounds of explosions and metal being torn apart, every sound audible to Maven started stuttering. He opened his eyes and did a quick look around. Everything had frozen in place. He could still move, but nothing was reacting to his touch.
"Wait did it crash—" Maven wouldn't be able to finish his sentence as he was forcibly ejected from the simulation.
"Shit shit shit my neck!"
"AH FUCKING HELL MY SKULL!"
Turns out leaving level II prematurely is rather painful as the two aviators found out.
Expulse wasted no time all but ripping the head gear off and placing it a good ways away from him, all the while cursing to the angels about how it's somehow the Belkans' fault.
Maven quickly tore off the headset as well and quickly started massaging the back of his neck, not exactly doing much to ease the pain drilling into his brain currently.
Thankfully the pain didn't take long to subside. Maven glances at the monitor nearby his station, which to no surprise had crashed. It seems even the future with such advancements, you can't escape the dreaded blue screen of death.
He chuckled slightly and got out of the chair he was sitting in for the simulator and stretched his limbs, letting out small grunts. The pilot looked to his side and spotted Grizzly, who also looked like she wasn't having a fun time with the sudden crash of the simulator.
Maven leaned against the nearby wall. "You also get that nice sensation of someone taking a sledgehammer to your skull?"
Grizzly turned towards the pilot, keeping a hand on her forehead to ward the headache off. "Yep, though never painful enough to warrant screaming."
"Ah that's just Expulse being weak." Maven waved her concern off.
"Shove it up your ass!"
Expulse must have overheard him.
"What, am I wrong?" Maven turned his back to Grizzly and faced his wingman, who had M82 close by slightly behind him.
"Yes! Talking mad shit for someone who was about to make like a metal utensil inside of a microwave!" Expulse pointed a finger at his pilot as he continued.
Maven blinked a couple of times, trying to process what his backseater had said. "The hell kind of analogy is that?"
"You know, metal inside of a microwave makes sparks and fires—why am I even bothering to explaining this, at least dear M82 here understands the humor and nuance behind such a well crafted joke." Expulse brought the doll in question in for a one armed hug and started furiously patting her head as he rambled further. "And, I would like to state that she makes for a much better co-pilot than you."
"Expulse, leave the poor girl alone. She looks like she's about to faint." Maven gestured to M82's face, which was heating up more than the afterburners on the SR-71.
The WSO turned his head towards the doll, wordlessly asking if what he was doing was alright with her. M82 shook her head, silently enjoying the physical attention that she usually didn't receive. Grizzly pouted at the sight, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy in her system. She turned her gaze to the back of Maven, staring daggers into his back as if it would somehow make her wants known to the pilot.
"See? She's fine with it." Expulse resumed patting the doll. "You're just jealous that we kicked your sorry ass."
"Is that so." Maven didn't give much credence to his backseater's ramblings. "That aside, the shit you pulled wouldn't fly in real life, because last time I checked the F-15EX isn't capable of pulling off a Kulbit."
"Mald harder."
Maven sighed, giving up on Expulse. "On a related note."
He turned his sights to Kalina and M4 SOPMOD, who were hunched over a laptop in a corner, probably trying to diagnose what happened that made the simulator crash. He walked up to the pair and took a seat on the table that the two were sat at.
He opened his mouth, ready to ask what black market substances the two were on when they developed this 'simulator'. Though he held his tongue as M4 SOPMOD looked up at him with a sheepish smile and Kalina didn't even bother looking away from the laptop, already sensing the incoming rant about how rushed the program felt.
"I take it you two worked overtime for this?" Maven calmly asked.
M4 SOPMOD and Kalina nodded their heads.
"Gentiane wanted it done ASAP when we asked for permission to work for it." Kalina said, having to hold back a yawn at the end. "Something about needing to keep you two sharp."
So it was a case of pressure from above it seemed. Maven felt a lot more sympathetic for the two. "Well in that case I'll just quickly give some areas to improve on."
The pilot gave quick one sentence statements for things that he thought needed improving. Though with what he was asking for, it would necessitate burning the entire program down and rebuilding it from scratch. Kalina instinctively started reaching around for an energy drink only to realise there weren't any around.
She was honestly considering to buy half of Persica's coffee supply with how tired she was currently.
Her brain cells barely registered the sound of someone clearing their throat. RO635 had came into the combat simulation room at some point with Expulse close by. Unfortunately, Maven hadn't heard her and continued to complain further to the poor logistics officer and M4 SOPMOD.
"Maven." RO635 called out.
The pilot in question continued rambling with his shopping list of 'suggestions'.
"Maven." RO635 tried getting his attention again to no avail.
The white stripped T-Doll sighed before pulling out her megaphone and cranking the amplification up to eleven.
"MISTER MAVEN WILL YOU PLEASE STOP FOR A MOMENT AND LISTEN!"
She definitely got his attention, at the cost of slight hearing damage perhaps. Maven turned around, mildly dazed from RO635's shouting but otherwise appeared to be completely fine.
"Oh hey RO!" Maven said with a dumb smile, speaking louder than he normally would. Maybe the megaphone might have done just a bit of damage. "Did you need something?"
"Gentiane requested for you two in the command center."
"Huh alright." Maven raised an eyebrow. "Anymore details?"
RO635 shook her head. "She didn't tell me anything beyond that."
Maven shrugged his shoulders and began making his way out the combat simulation room with Expulse walking up to his side. As he passed RO635, for no real reason other than instinct, he gave the T-Doll a quick pat on the head.
"Cool megaphone by the way."
The pilot didn't elaborate further and Expulse only let out a snicker. After the duo left, RO635 stood still, an expression of confused took over her face. She mimicked the gesture Maven did on her, but it didn't feel the same for some reason. The T-Doll was at a loss here, Gentiane hadn't done something like this so she didn't have anything else to compare it to.
"Uhh RO?" M4 SOPMOD spoke up, confused by her sister's state. "Why are you patting your own head?"
"...No reason."
Off to the side by the simulation terminals, Grizzly was sending the strongest death glare she could muster at the heterochromatic T-Doll. She got up and headed towards the shooting range.
Maybe dumping a couple of magazines into target drones would do her some good.
The two aviators made their way to the command center, giving a quick wave or nod of the head to any dolls they recognized along the way. Entering the room, Gentiane gave them a nod of acknowledgment and held her index finger up, busy with a call.
The pilots found the nearest wall to lean against and began listening in. Something about a chief, an individual named Ange and getting a helicopter or two. It only struck them now that there was no form of aerial transportation around, not exactly ideal for ground forces. From what little context they could pick up, it wasn't that Griffin didn't have helicopters, but rather they had them and then lost them.
"...and these are the two youngsters that you've hired?"
The call had switched from whatever the two were discussing about to the two pilots. The person on the other end of the call was an old man wearing a suit and glasses Also a very elaborate and fancy walking stick. Probably some important executive or board member if the pilots had to guess.
"Yes they are, and their performance has been nothing less than excellent."
The praise from Gentiane was unexpected but neither pilot gave a visible reaction, putting on their best poker face as they do when dealing with higher ups.
"I see," The old man chuckled. "I believe your high opinion of them comes from the recent attack in your sector?"
Gentiane nodded her head. "Indeed, we would have suffered more casualties had they not been there. That and we don't possess any means of anti-air."
"And with the military suddenly having air power now…" The old man was starting to see how crucial of an asset Checkmate was.
It would require some more calls and bribery, but with the sudden uptick in aerial combat, having their own means of air power would be essential for upcoming missions.
"Now Gentiane," The man started, having made up his mind. "this is just a suggestion, but I would advise that you bring them along with you to Belgrade."
"...Wouldn't that attract a lot of unwanted attention?" Gentiane seemed slightly cautious. "That and where would they even stay? I doubt they would want to be far away from their jet, right?" She turned towards the two aviators for confirmation.
Unsurprisingly they nodded their heads.
"You worry too much Gentiane, I fear you might get wrinkles too soon." The man dismissed her concerns. "I'll handle all of that, make sure to thank me for my generosity!"
"Jesus christ Havier." Gentiane pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll bring them along if you insist so much."
"Lovely! And with that aside..." The old man now known as Havier turned his attention to the pilots, a smile present which most likely meant nothing good. "How have you two been getting along with the dolls? Not to pry of course, just curious."
...What? That was the last thing either of them expected Havier—someone who seemed to be a highly important business partner or something to that effect—to ask.
"Havier!" Gentiane shouted in outrage.
"What? It's an honest inquiry." Havier calmly replied, completely unfazed by Gentiane. "Having them interact with humans who are not their commander yet still above them in the chain of command is something we haven't tested much."
Gentiane let out an amused groan. "Is that all?"
"Fine fine, remember your mission. I'll sort out arrangements for you and the two gentlemen. Oh and one more thing."
Havier stared at Maven in particular for a couple of moments. Slightly unnerving when it's through a transmission.
"Hmm, you interest me, child." He finally broke the silence. "When we meet, how about a game of Ravenbury chess?"
Havier didn't wait for a response and the call ended on that note.
That wasn't exactly what Maven or Expulse had expected when they were told to report to the command center. It seems that even the higher ups are 'colorful' in their own way.
Gentiane sighed and massaged her temples. "I'm sorry about that, he has…" She took a moment to find the correct words that wouldn't paint Havier too negatively. "he just takes enjoyment from acting like a half-wit geezer."
"I can tell." Maven deadpanned. "So who exactly is he? I get the feeling that he isn't just a 'half-wit geezer'."
"He's the current CEO of IOP Manufacturing who is the main supplier of our dolls." Gentiane explained.
"...So he's the reason why Uzi had the bright idea of having flammables around heatseaking missiles?" Maven asked, his voice completely flat.
Gentiane opened her mouth but it took a moment for her to get the right words out. "...Yes some of the dolls have their own quirks and… interesting personality traits."
"Some?" Expulse raised an eyebrow in doubt.
"Fine, all of them do to various degrees." Gentiane relented.
As much as she would beat around the bush about the topic, there was no denying that all the dolls had various personality quirks. Some more troublesome such as MDR or WA2000 when she's in the vicinity of a kitchen. Even the more 'normal' dolls weren't exempt, Springfield specifically came to mind for some reason.
That smile of hers always put Gentiane just a bit on edge.
Maven faked a cough. "So can we get a sitrep on what's going on?"
"Right." Gentiane cleared her throat. "Statesec is sending us on a search mission for one of their agents who happens to be in Belgrade."
Both pilots nodded their heads, still somewhat confused.
"So where exactly do we fit in with this? I don't think a fighter jet is particularly useful in an urban environment." Maven asked.
"If it was up to me I would have you two stay here." Gentiane admitted. "However Havier most likely has his reasons and despite his… demeanor, he has helped us in very tight situations before."
"I see…" Maven replied.
"That aside, have you two tried the combat simulator that Kalina and SOPMOD made yet?" Gentiane switched the topic.
"Actually, we tried it right before RO told us to come here."
"And?" Gentiane asked, wanting their opinions.
"Well… uh…" Maven tried to think of how to phrase his feedback in a polite manner.
A spam of pings from Gentiane's computer broke the pilot's train of thought.
"Excuse me for a moment." Gentiane turned her attention to her computer. Her inbox was being flooded with complaints from RFB about a game she had that went missing two weeks ago. She had to let out a sigh in exasperation, maybe a pay raise was in order with the amount of doll wrangling she had to put up with.
"I take it that someone is doing something they shouldn't be?" Expulse asked with thinly veiled amusement.
Gentiane rubbed her temples. "One of the dolls is complaining about some game she probably misplaced about two weeks ago."
Hold on. Game goes missing two weeks ago, Kalina and SOPMOD started developing that shoddy excuse of a combat simulator two weeks ago as well… It could be chalked up to just a coincidence but the timing was too convenient. Both pilots decided it was ultimately was inconsequential and disregarded the rather suspicious timeline of events.
"Anyways… that aside, when do we leave?" Maven asked.
"Once Havier gets the arrangements confirmed…which knowing him will probably be within the next two or so days." Gentiane answered. "One last thing though."
She got up from her desk and went over to some file cabinets. It took Gentiane a couple of seconds of shuffling random loose paper aside until she pulled out a map of the eastern European region. She walked back over to the desk and grabbed a pen, giving it a quick shake before circling two locations on the map.
"Here is where we are currently and this is where we are heading." She pointed at the two circles around the base and where Belgrade was respectively. "Once we have the arrangements sorted out, Kalina will guide you once you're in the area. Any questions?"
Expulse raised his hand. "…Does Kalina even know the proper procedures for landings?"
"Well no… but she's a fast learner, she'll be fine."
The two pilots shot each other a quick look. If this was how Gentiane usually worked with Kalina, then it was no wonder why the blonde logistics officer was overworked.
"If that was all, then you two are dismissed. You'll be notified once everything is set up."
Maven and Expulse gave a salute out of habit and left the command room.
"Should be around lunch time, no?" Expulse asked, feeling the craving for some of Springfield's cooking.
Maven took a quick look at his watch to confirm. "Yeah, just a couple minutes after noon right now."
"Alright let's go, I'm starving."
The two began making their way towards the café. Expulse had to get out one last comment however.
"Looks like someone has the attention of the big shots."
"Yep." Maven sighed. He didn't know why the old geezer Havier took interest in him specifically but his gut feeling told him it was something shady in a best case scenario.
"Shit man, I didn't ask for this."
True to Gentiane's word, two days after the briefing the pilots got word from Grizzly that they were cleared to transfer over. They thought that Gentiane was exaggerating with how fast Havier worked, but apparently she was telling the truth.
Another reason to be slightly cautious about the geezer.
Their F-15 was already armed up with the usual armaments suited for both air and ground based targets if the situation parameters suddenly changed. Not that they didn't trust the dolls, but the two preferred to run one last check before flying.
"Hey, do me a favor and tell me what we're running?" Expulse called out from the backseat.
"Uhh, I count six AMRAAMs on each wing with two Sidewinders. Six GBU-12s and six CBU-99s on the fuselage and then three fuel tanks." Maven called out as he verified the armaments.
"Sweet. Everything checks out on the stores menu." Expulse gave a thumbs up. "Are the Sidewinders armed?"
Maven took a quick glance at the heatseakers mounted onto the wing pylons, noting that both still had a red strip attached. "Nope, let me go fix that real quick."
The pilot jogged over to each sidewinder and ripped out the arming keys. "Anything else we're missing?"
Expulse took a second to think. "Nah, I think we're good to go."
"Right, I'll be up with you." Maven walked over to the built-in ladder and was about to get into the cockpit. "Wait, how the hell am I supposed to get in and close the ladder?"
"Uhhh, don't know and not my problem?" Expulse shrugged.
Maven shot him a dirty glare.
"Alright alright uhhh…" Expulse leaned out the canopy, trying to find a solution. "You think you could jump up onto the tail wing and get in from there?"
The pilot took a look at the rear end of the plane, noting how the tail wings were easily half his body taller than he was, and returned his attention back to Expulse.
The backseater scratched the back of his head. "It could work?"
"Why do I even bother." Maven sighed.
Thankfully for his brain cells, salvation came in the form of a certain rifle wielding brown-oranged haired T-doll power walking towards the pair, holding two relatively small boxes.
"Looks like I caught you at the right time." Springfield said with a smile.
"I guess you did." Maven replied shortly before he pointed at the boxes. "What's with those though?"
"Just a little something for the two of you eat in case you get hungry."
Maven accepted the two lunch boxes. "Heh, guess this is a nice goodbye gift."
"Mmm, less of a goodbye and more of a see you soon."
The pilot raised an eyebrow. "See you soon?"
Springfield nodded her head in confirmation. "We all will be transferring soon after you two leave."
"Everyone?" Maven gave Springfield a look. "Wait no—hold on, what if base gets attacked or something?"
"Don't worry about that." Springfield giggled and waved off his concern. "Another commander will temporarily handle the base in our absence."
"Ah, fair enough." Maven nodded his head.
"You won't be separated from Grizzly for too long." Springfield added on with a grin.
Expulse bursted into a fit of laughter from the backseat, banging his hand against the handles to the side of his display.
Maven's only response was a sigh.
"Sorry, I just had an urge to tease you before you left." Springfield said with an innocent smile.
"Of course." Maven deadpanned before making one last request. "You mind folding up the ladder for me?"
Springfield nodded her head. "Sure, it's no problem."
The pilot gave her one last smile before climbing up into the cockpit of the F-15EX. Springfield folded up the built in ladder as requested and took her leave.
Thankfully most of the systems in the front were powered on and ready to go, the only work Maven needed to do was to calibrate his helmet mounted display and adjust the brightness on the HUD.
Expulse managed to calm down from his laughing fit though he still wore a wide grin on his face. "H-heh, ready to taxi?"
"Yep, ready."
"Alright, let's roll."
Maven taxied onto the road acting as their makeshift runway. Once lined up enough, he set the throttle fully forward, engaging the afterburners as they quickly gained speed. At around 150 knots, Maven lightly pulled back on the flight stick, gradually climbing in altitude and raised the landing gear.
They continued their ascent until they reached around twenty thousand feet, low enough to not leave any contrails but high enough to reduce their fuel consumption by a meaningful amount.
"Remember, head to vector two-three-zero from here and we should roughly end up in Belgrade." Expulse reminded Maven.
"Roger, that."
Maven steered towards the heading before leveling the aircraft out. He brought up the autopilot page and engaged the barometric altitude hold.
"And before I forget." Maven leaned around and held one of the lunch boxes from Springfield." For you, my good sir."
"Thank you very much." Expulse leaned forward and grabbed the lunch box. "So do we just kick back and chill for now?"
"Pretty much I guess, just keep an eye on the radar."
"Gotcha." Expulse chuckled at a thought he just had. "You think we will have more wacky shit happen this flight? Like, the weird stuff only happens during transfer flights."
"Could you stop raising flags?"
"Alright, alright." Expulse laughed. "I'll think of a different topic…"
The backseater took a good minute to come up with another conversation idea.
"…So about Grizzly—"
"Shut the fuck up."
The next fifty minutes passed in relative silence, the only noises being the jet engines and clicking noises coming from Expulse's flight stick. The flight so far had gone without a hitch; no radar warnings, no mission updates, and most importantly no random eye blindingly bright teleportation bullshit. Everything was going smoothly.
Perhaps too smoothly in Maven's opinion.
"How much longer is this flight supposed to be?" Maven broke the silence.
"Uhh… I think the total time was around one hour and forty-ish minutes. And it's been…" Expulse momentarily stopped whatever was requiring him to use the flight stick and checked his watch. "like fifty-ish or so minutes since we left? Do the math yourself."
"Fifty minutes." Maven instantly calculated.
"…Fucking nerd." Expulse said underneath his breath
"I heard that."
"No you didn't."
"I'm pretty sure you called me a nerd."
"And I'm pretty sure you need to take some medication because you're hearing shit."
Maven let out a small chuckle. These small moments were something he valued. That aside though, maybe he was being too paranoid, but he was just a little bit on edge with how calm things have been lately.
"Hey, you think that things have been a little too smooth?"
Expulse took about a second to think before resuming his activities. "You're probably overthinking, don't worry about it."
"I hope you're right…" Maven sighed. Perhaps he was worrying too much about what could happen in the future and should refocus back to the present, such as whatever Expulse was doing in the back.
"Expulse, what's with all the clicking I'm hearing from back there."
"Huh? Oh." The backseater chuckled. "Hey man, wish you could see. Pac-Man on the DDI is awesome."
What?
"I'm sorry, you're doing what now?" Maven wanted to make sure he wasn't hearing things.
Four pings from the radar interrupted the moment.
"Oh would you look at that, we got bogeys on the RWR, four of 'em, one hundred and fifty miles out, closing in fast." Expulse relayed, more than happy to change topics.
Maven made a mental note to come back to this later. "Are they hostile?"
"Not sure, but judging by the lineup I'm inclined to believe so…" Expulse cleared his throat. "We got a Terminator, a Foxhound, a Flatpack… where the hell did they get that from? And a… oh jesus. This can't be right." The WSO chuckled for a moment before having another laughing fit.
Maven raised an eyebrow. "The hell are you laughing at now?"
"It's a fucking A-10!" Expulse managed to wheeze out. "Some dipshit is actually flying the all mighty titanium bathtub— ah shit, my ribs hurt!"
"Nah, no way." Maven shook his head. "You're pulling my leg."
The pilot pulled up the electronic warfare page on his display, there was no way this was true. But lo and behold, there it was on the radar; one SU-37, one MiG-31, one MiG 1.44 and the legendary attack bathtub that is the A-10 Thunderbolt II.
Maven joined in on the laughter/wheezing with Expulse. Between getting whisked away to some futuristic alternate timeline with hot android girls and someone unironically bringing an A-10 to a fight—beyond or within visual range, Maven would have an easier time believing the former in all honesty.
"Wait, hold on." Expulse stopped laughing abruptly. "There was a Foxhound, right?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Ah, okay." The backseater went silent for a couple of seconds. "DIVE, DIVE! HIT THE DECK NOW!"
Maven was caught off guard by the tonal whiplash. "What—"
"JUST DO IT OR WE'RE DEAD!"
The pilot did as instructed and began doing a straight nosedive down to the ground. He flipped the master arm switch on just in case if this broke out into an actual fight. Expulse was dumping chaff and switched the ECM jammer to transmit as additional countermeasures. It would prove to be useless however as the radar warning started blaring.
"Shit, shit, shit, shIT, SHIT." Expulse was near hyperventilating in the back. "OH JESUS, I SEE THE MISSILE TRAIL. HUG THE GOD DAMN GROUND MAVEEEN!"
The jet was barely above tree top level now. If it wasn't for the inbound missile and his WSO all but pissing his pants, Maven would've been mildly concerned about inhaling a stray rodent or something into the engine intakes. Fortunately it was mostly flat lands where they currently were so he didn't have to worry about crashing into a mountain.
Maven glanced off to the side and saw the inbound missile hurling towards them at what he guessed was hyper sonic speeds. Expulse was praying to whatever deity that would listen to his pleas that the missile tracking would malfunction at the last second.
"Ah." Was Maven's only response.
By what appeared to be some stroke of divine intervention, the missile that was on course for them didn't track properly and crashed into the ground a couple hundred of feet away from the jet, the sound of the explosion following suit soon after.
"Holy shit…" Expulse exclaimed in relief. "No way that actually worked!"
"Expulse, you mind filling me in on whatever the hell you have going through your head!?"
"Uhhh MiG-31s have those AWACS buster missiles? The R-37s?"
Ah right, Maven sort of forgot about that in favor of laughing at the titanium bathtub. But that didn't explain the terrain hugging though…
"And what about trying to fly through the ground?" The pilot inquired.
"I think the tracking with older missiles spaz out if the target is too close to the ground." Expulse elaborated.
"...And you know this from where?"
"I saw it in a movie."
Maven needed a second to digest that last sentence.
"YOU GAMBLED OUR LIVES ON STUPID BULLSHIT YOU SAW IN A MOVIE!?"
"If it's stupid but works, it's not stupid! So quit your bitching and don't crash into a tree, that asshat still has one left!" Expulse shouted back. "One hundred miles out, way outside the range of our AMRAAMs at this altitude."
Maven grumbled and continued hugging the ground, doing his best to maneuver around the trees. He glanced at the fuel gauge, only roughly around one third of fuel left in the fuel tanks. At least they won't be losing much when they inevitably have to drop them.
"Eighty miles." Expulse called out. "Either the MiG-31 hasn't fired again, or it already shot and the missile hasn't gone pitbull yet."
"And what am I supposed to do with that information?"
"Just keep low until we're within the no escape range for the AMRAAMs."
Maven deadpanned. "I hope you realise that's going to be like twelve—maybe fifteen miles if you're lucky—and I'm being generous with that estimate."
"Well focus on swatting the dumbass that brought the A-10 down and pray that that's enough for the others to back off—"
Expulse was cut off by the radar having another fit as what the two pilots assumed was the second R-37 going pitbull on them. Maven cranked away slightly so that they wouldn't be flying head on towards the missile.
"I see the missile trail." Expulse relayed to Maven. "Get ready!"
Just like before, the missile lost track as it got closer to the ground, once again crashing before it could hit its mark, although this time it was just close enough for the shockwave of the explosion to be felt.
"Oh ho ho my god, I felt the damn shockwave from that one…" Expulse exclaimed in relief. "We are so lucky that that didn't rip off the tail wings or something."
Maven was going to express his own sentiments on the near death experiences they both have just experienced, but the radio cut him off before he could get a word out.
"Missile didn't connect, that wasn't the plan."
"He pulled something unexpected... this is going to be fun."
...Were the interceptors using an open channel?
"Does this mean we can get up close and personal?"
"Can you even keep up in that bathtub of yours?"
"Hey! I'm a capable fighter—"
"Enough talk all of you! Focus on taking down the enemy."
The two pilots sat in silence for a moment, stunned at the interaction they just overheard.
"Are… are they using open channel?" Maven asked, finally breaking the silence. "They know what encryption is, right?"
"The absolute state of OPSEC in 2064 I guess…" Expulse sighed before shaking his head. "Whatever, more intel for us. Anyways, bandits are forty miles out and we're closing fast, get ready to merge."
"Alright, dumping fuel tanks." Maven selected the inboard and center stations and press the jettison button. An audible release was heard as the fuel tanks were dropped.
Expulse let out a small chuckle. "Man, Gentiane isn't going to be happy with how much money we need to constantly resupply fuel tanks and armaments."
"Sounds like a her problem to me." Maven said offhandedly, not too concerned. What was more concerning was the relatively low amount of air-to-air weapons they had. Only six AMRAAMs and two Sidewinders, and the AMRAAMs were most likely going to be useless in the inevitable circumstance of a close proximity fight. "Fuck, would've gone for a pure anti-air loadout if I knew this shit was going to happen."
Expulse was more optimistic. "Eight missiles is all we need buddy, the A-10 and MiG-31 are practically sitting ducks at this range."
Maven didn't feel that much more at ease knowing it was effectively a one-on-two fight rather than a one-on-four.
"At any rate, twenty miles out, I'm going for a multi launch." Expulse called out, already having all four enemy planes locked up in TWS mode. By the time he was ready to fire, the distance had shrunk down to fifteen miles, a slightly higher probability of landing a killing shot. "SPAMRAAMs out!"
Four missiles were launched in a staggered release, corresponding to the amount of times the WSO pulled the trigger. Unfortunately the adversaries popped countermeasures and evaded the missiles, even the A-10 successfully dodged the barrage of missiles. However with all of the enemies on the defensive, Maven took the opportunity to gain some altitude and started homing in on the A-10.
The pilot switched to guns as he rapidly approached the Warthog, though it was the sheer speed they were moving at that made it hard for Maven to position the pipper on the A-10. He shot out a burst of 25mm, but none of them landed despise the rather large surface area of the target and flew pass the Warthog.
The radar warning receiver started beeping, indicating a lock-on to Checkmate.
"You need to learn to watch your back."
"Ah shit! Terminator on our six o' clock—HE FIRED TWO OF THEM! EVASIVE MANEUVERS NOW!" Expulse screamed out while dumping a flurry of flares to counteract the inbound R-73 missiles.
Maven killed the after burners and rolled to the side, pulling back on the flight stick and moving into the tightest turn the aircraft could muster. The combination of countermeasures and evasive maneuvers was enough for the dual volley of infrared missiles to miss the F-15 and instead go for the flares.
"Sweet christ, I think we're dealing with an ace squadron here!" Expulse mused out loud.
Maven offered no response and focused on dealing with the swarm of bandits trying to nail his rear.
"Get ready."
The MiG-31 reappeared at Checkmate's four o' clock.
"Another missile launch Maven, move it!" Expulse called out as the MiG-31 launched one of it's own R-73 heatseakers.
Maven went inverted before diving towards the ground, leaving a trail of flares behind as he pulled hard enough to not crash into the ground. Thankfully the missile was shot at angle where it couldn't turn fast enough to land it's mark on the F-15EX and crashed into the ground instead.
"My god Expulse, I can barely line up a good shot like this!" Maven growled out in frustration.
"Keep at it and wait for an opening man, they don't have infinite missiles!" Expulse replied in an attempt to raise his pilot's morale. "Just focus on flying, I'll see if I can nail one of the asshats with a sidewinder." The WSO turned on his HMD.
Maven mentally grumbled and kept doing his best to fly in an unpredictable fashion—performing high-G turns in tandem with aileron rolls—all the while looking for any chance of retaliating.
As the fight dragged on, both pilots had deduced that the main threat was the Terminator due to the sheer amount of short range missiles it was carrying—six to be exact, though it had already wasted over half of those in various attempts to take down the F-15.
The MiG 1.44 while dangerously capable in the hands of whoever was flying it, didn't have much in the way of missile capacity—only having what appeared to be a measly four weapon stations available. Though apparently that wasn't an issue for the pilot as he seemed to prefer going for guns, almost landing a killing blow on a couple of occasions.
As for the MiG-31 and A-10…
"Just, stay, still!"
The foxhound was using every opportunity it could get (which wasn't many considering it's poor mobility) to gun down the F-15 to no avail. A quick hailstorm of tracers flew past the jet, not helping Maven nor Expulse's already rapid heartbeats.
"Missile launch, nine o' clock!" Expulse called out, releasing more flares.
Maven did his job of maneuvering away from the missile with a quick high-G turn away.
The WSO took a glance at the remaining countermeasures they had. "We're almost out of flares Maven! We have to end this shit now!"
"Fucking—" Maven knew he was going to have to do some ballsy, borderline suicidal stunt if he wanted to get out of this alive.
"I got a great view back here."
"he's at our six!" Expulse cried out. "I'm not dying to a fucking bathtub man, move it!"
Directly behind them, probably at full throttle to compensate for a lack of afterburners and overall terrible mobility outside of yawing?
"Expulse, get ready to fire a sidewinder on him."
"What? The hell you got planned now—JESUS!"
Maven pulled a high-G turn upwards and throttled completely down—narrowly avoiding the barrage of 30mm the Warthog just fired—before going inverted, just behind the attack aircraft.
"EXPULSE, NOW!"
"FOX-TWO!"
The Sidewinder shot off the pylon and homed in on the A-10 with pin point precision, successfully landing a hit on the Warthog, tearing an entire wing off with it.
"Ayy splash one Warthog!" Expulse cheered out.
"Arrghh!"
"Daniel!"
"I knew he was going to be a deadweight."
"Shut your mouth Tolya!"
It seems like the downing of an ally was enough to send the squadron into disarray
"Quiet, both of you! Target is better than what intel anticipated, a search and rescue operation will be mounted for Oruma. We're leaving."
"Captain, let me shoot him down—"
"I said we're leaving. Varcolac, retreat."
The MiG 1.44 began leaving the airspace with the SU-37 and MiG-31 in suit.
"How the hell did we pull that off?! Holy shit!" Expulse said before letting out a deranged laugh, the adrenaline high mixing together with his disbelief. "We have no right to still be alive right now!"
The pilot only leaned back in his seat and let out a long exhale, face feeling something akin to drowsiness. "Yet here we are, alive to see another day. That's our victory."
"Fuck that, it's only a victory if we land in Belgrade! Don't go raising flags now!"
"Oh NOW you're concerned about raising flags."
The two pilots shared a laugh at the sheer absurdity of their situation. By any reasonable metric, they should have no business coming out of a one-on-four alive, even if two of the opponents had no business fighting up close. But by either skill or obscene amounts of luck, they overcame what should have been insurmountable odds.
"Still though..." Expulse pondered out loud. "Who the hell were those assholes?"
"They didn't look like official military." Maven added on.
"Yeah, weird ass blue livery with… I think those were supposed to be shark teeth or something?"
"Regardless, we got some names."
"Daniel, Oruma, Tolya, Varcolac hm…" Expulse went quiet in thought. "Let's hope Gentiane can find something on them, I rather not get caught with my pants down like this again."
"You're preaching to the choir, buddy." Maven replied. He took a glance at the fuel gauge and was concerned at how much they had burned through. "We used up just over half of our fuel for that…"
Expulse muttered some swear words. "Fly high, don't use afterburners and pray."
"I guess that's the plan." Maven sighed. "You said we had fifty minutes left before arriving, right?"
The time it took to the two pilots to arrive in Belgrade was shorter than expected thankfully, whether or not the extra time would be enough to last would remain to be seen. Both were slightly on edge, with only roughly around a fifth of their fuel left, landing on some random highway or lengthy straight road was becoming an uncomfortable possibility. They were told that they would be radioed first, but no transmission was received since they entered the country borders.
At least there was no risk at more random encounters.
Expulse was unconsciously tapping his fingers on his throttle controller while paying close attention to the fuel gauge. It wasn't like they could use the GPS to figure out an optimal landing area since they hadn't set the systems up with the satellites here. They really need to get around to doing that soon.
"Yo buddy." Maven got the WSO's attention "You have the map right?"
Expulse quickly glanced at his kneeboard to confirm. "Yeah, why?"
"Just trying to figure out where to land in case Kalina fell into a sleep deprivation induced coma. A place this big has to have an air base or an airport or something, right?"
"You should be right. Let me check."
Expulse pulled out the map from the kneeboard and was going to unfold it, unfortunately his motor functions ceased for a second, causing him to drop the map.
"Shit shit—fuck." The WSO tried but failed to catch it at the last second.
"Expulse?"
The backseater sighed. "I dropped the map."
"...Then pick it up?" Maven was slightly confused about what the issue was.
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I can't reach the map, it's underneath the seat. I see it but I can't get it."
"Well I'm flying level right now. If you're going to be doing weird shit man, just like make sure you don't punch yourself out." Maven snickered a bit at the last comment.
"I hope you stub your toe."
Expulse leaned forward as much as the seat would allow him to—which wasn't that much—and tried to get his hands on the map. But to no avail, it was in too much of an awkward position for the backseater to reach in his current circumstance.
"Yeah no, I can't reach it." Expulse gave up after a couple of attempts.
"Shit." Maven flatly said. "Welp, I hope the local police doesn't have an issue with me appropriating a highway."
"Could you not get us thrown in jail." Expulse groaned out.
"I don't see you coming up with better ideas—" Maven was cut off by an incoming radio transmission.
"Hey, what gives you two?" Kalina's voice came through, slightly distorted by the radio. "You're like fifteen minutes later than expected!"
"...It's a long story..." Maven stated flatly. "Well, actually it's not but it can wait, we're dangerously low on fuel and we need to land. Now."
"Gentiane is going to want an explanation just so you know..."
"Yeah yeah we'll have a talk with her later, just guide us in Kalina." Maven hurried her
"Will do! Uhh…" Kalina went quiet for a couple of seconds. "how am I supposed to do this again?"
Expulse would've facepalmed if it wasn't for the six figure expensive helmet that he was wearing "Oh god, I knew this was going to happen, she has no idea what she's doing."
"Back to looking for empty highways…" Maven said dejectedly.
"Wha—have some more faith in me—H-HEY!" Various noises of things things being shoved around and Kalina's squawking were heard before a new voice took the young woman's place.
"That damn logistics officer…" It was male voice, somewhat gruff and… vaguely sounded belkan? "Is this going through, Checkmate One?"
"Uh yeah, who the hell is this?" Expulse snapped back at the newcomer.
"Someone who's going to make sure your asses get down safely." The male replied curtly in response. "Fly heading 301 for five, runway thirty, it's empty so don't bother with pattern."
Both pilots were slightly off put by the man's demeanor, but they didn't have much room to complain and did as instructed. Soon enough an air base came into view over the horizon; two rather lengthy runways to their delight.
Maven did his best to visually line up the F-15 with the runway before doing the usual landing procedure; lowering the gear and flaps while adjusting the throttle as needed so that they wouldn't over- or undershoot their landing position, keeping in mind to not engage the afterburners.
Despite the rather dire circumstance for the two aviators, they managed to make a rather smooth landing all things considered (They would attribute that to having an actual runway instead of some half-assed imitation of one) with more than enough space left on the runway.
"Made it one piece I see." The male said as if he was expecting something more… disorderly. "Taxi to the parking area and head to the command center, the Griffin commander wants you two."
Maven and Expulse mentally groaned as they were reminded that they couldn't quite yet call it a day and head to bed early. The parking area was somewhat populated with modernized MiG-29s, MiG-35s and some helicopters which were probably intended for transport. They parked in a free spot and let out a sigh of relief, happy to be back on the ground.
For a couple of seconds both pilots didn't move out of their seats, procrastinating on debriefing Gentiane. But they also rather not get verbally beat down by their superior (who was shorter than them by a fair margin which made her somewhat less intimidating, but only Expulse would consider saying that out loud.)
"And one last thing." The male spoke before Maven could shut off the engines.
"Gentlemen, Welcome to Belgrade."
G36 came down to the airfield and escorted the two aviators to the room that Gentiane and Kalina had transformed into a command center. It was hastily thrown together judging by the mess of cables from the equipment they brought alone, but it seemed to work regardless.
The two shot Kalina a deadpanned look for her earlier slip up, to which the logistics officer turned away with a blush of embarrassment seeping up to her cheeks. Gentiane cleared her throat and as expected, asked for a rundown on why they were late and why most of the missiles were missing from their jet.
Maven did all the talking as he gave a condensed summary of their encounter with Varcolac squadron, Expulse chiming in occasionally to add any relevant details that Maven forgot to include. Both Gentiane and Kalina were mildly disturbed that the pilots could've died and they would have been none the wiser. Once Maven concluded his summary, Gentiane went silent, bringing her hand to her chin as she took in all the information.
"Uhh, ma'am?" Maven asked with some reservation, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts but carried on. "Do you think you can have someone look into a 'Daniel Oruma'? That name came up."
"Varcolac and Daniel Oruma…" Gentiane mumbled to herself. "I'll see if I can get someone from Statesec to look into that."
"Hopefully they find something on them." Maven mumbled out.
Gentiane somehow having understood him nodded her head in agreement. "It's a miracle you two are still with us."
Maven and Expulse looked mildly uncomfortable the statement, the former coughing into his hand before switching topic.
"That aside… we might need a lot more fuel tanks and weapons if we're going to be sent out more…" Maven sheepishly added on.
Gentiane only stared at Maven with an expression somewhere in between a deadpan and outright exasperation, probably from the costs all the fuel tanks alone were going to eat into her budget. She was going to respond but was interrupted by the door opening. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kalina pout slightly.
"So these are the two you hired?" A familiar gruffy male voice sounded from the doorway.
A suspicious looking man wearing a quite attractive black leather jacket along with matching black leather gloves came into the room, closing the door behind him before walking up to Gentiane. The commander snarked back a comment before initiating a conversation with the government official looking man.
"Who the hell is this federal agent looking ass?" Expulse whispered to the Maven.
Maven elbowed the WSO's side. "Knock it off."
Gentiane started snickering, much to the surprise of the two aviators.
"God damn K, this is the first time they're meeting you and they can already tell you work for the government." She said, barely containing her amusement.
"Please don't start now, J already gives me enough shit about that as it is." The man now known as K merely let out a sigh in exasperation before turning his attention to the pilots. "In any case, you two can refer to me as K. I believe this is where I say 'A pleasure to meet you'."
Both of the aviators prayed that K wasn't a spy because his appearance and mannerisms make glow in the dark with the intensity of twenty flares in a metro station.
"Maven."
"Expulse."
They gave their call signs in response.
"Using code names as well? I see…" K mused for a moment.
"With the introductions aside," Gentiane butted in." you two are dismissed for now. I'll have G36 show you your living quarters."
With timing a bit too perfect for their liking, G36 entered the room, ready to carry out her duty. The two gave Gentiane a quick salute before following the maid out the room. It wasn't a long walk to where the barracks were so at least it wouldn't be hard to remember where it was.
The barracks themselves appeared less like barracks more like above average hotel rooms. Two single beds with a table separating them, a desk with a comfortable looking swivel chair, a closet that was more than big enough for the amount of clothes they had. Overall it was pretty similar to the barracks back in Emmeria.
"If there's any issues, you may find me or Gentiane." G36 did a short bow before the leaving the two their devices.
Neither of them would say it out loud, but they rather talk to the commander herself than G36. That glare of hers was high up on their list of nightmares, somewhere above getting shot down in combat and public speaking, but below having their jet swapped to either an A-10 or F-35, and definitely no where close to GSh-18.
Maybe the two had an irrational fear of the medic T-Doll, though they would claim it's completely sensical.
Expulse went to the closest to dump off his helmet but was surprised that their clothes from the S09 base were present.
"I'm not sure if I should be thankful or disturbed that our clothes somehow made it over here."
Maven raised an eyebrow and came over to see it for himself. After a couple of seconds of coming up with potential theories as to how the clothes could magically end up here when they were still back in area S09, Maven only a sigh.
"You know what, don't question it. Something something gift horses and mouths, I don't remember how that quote goes." The pilot trailed off before flopping onto the bed he claimed as his, which was somehow more comfortable than the bed he had in his actual home.
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth? You really couldn't remember that?" Expulse said with a look of concern for Maven's memory.
"Take a hike, it's been a long day."
"...It's one thirty in the afternoon."
The smartass comment earned Expulse a pillow in the face.
"I didn't ask." Maven glared at his WSO. "Also give me that back."
Expulse grabbed the pillow and did as Maven instructed, albeit with some creative liberties taken. Namely giving the pilot a good whack in the face with the pillow in retaliation.
"Okay… I'll let that one slide."
Expulse give a haughty laugh in response. "Yeah nice threat dork, we both know I would smoke your ass in a pillow fight."
"As much as I would love to prove you wrong, I rather not end up breaking something and have to explain to Gentiane that we were 'engaging in some tomfoolery', I believe that's how you would phrase it." Maven deadpanned.
"Shit, he knows me too well." Expulse said to himself.
Maven snickered. "That aside… you think Gentiane would allow us to decorate the room? I think we're going to be here for a while—"
The two were interrupted by G36 coming back in, somehow looking more serious despite there being next to no difference in her facial expression compared to how she normally looks.
"Gentiane is requesting for you two in command center, a situation requiring your skill set came up."
Both pilots, although Maven more so than Expulse, gave G36 an exasperated look.
"And we just got here for fucks sake."
I want to start this A/N by shilling Joint Assault, it's underrated and a pretty okay entry in ace combat, worth at least one play through imo.
Jokes aside, I apologize for the like 3 month wait, but shit happens.
Writing this story is more of a side thing for me, my main focus is on drawing mediocre fanart with the occasional commission so that eats into most of my time. That and I have a fear of dropping an irredeemably shit chapter so that also keeps me from getting these out faster, but I'll see if I can dedicate more time to this now, especially since I think I've somewhat lost touch with how to write. Not completely happy with how some parts ended up but oh well, a finished product is better than a perfect product.
That's what I gaslight myself with at least.
That aside, I have a somewhat complete timeline for the rest of the story from this point all the way to the end, which in theory should decrease the downtime between chapters somewhat. In theory at least. It should allow me to keep the story somewhat consistent at least. This also happens to mark the beginning of the "Mmm how can I shove more F-15 shilling into Isomer" arc so yay?
Which leads into this. I've come to a point where I want to ask the like 2 people who actually read this garbage dumpster fire for some opinions:
1) For Isomer, I originally wanted to stick as close to the actual story as possible, but after skimming through it, there isn't much opportunity for my goofy ahhhh plane shilling. So the alternative is that I slap in some chapters based off of whatever ace combat mission I feel like ripping off on the day in addition to whatever I can think of that constitutes as fluff.
2) I have written some stuff unrelated to the main story but still using my totally-not-self-inserts. If enough people are curious I might release them under a different story. Would also serve as a good outlet for whenever I want to take a break from this/have a writers block but still have the itch to write.
Any opinions on these two points would be appreciated. I'll just end up bullshitting something for Isomer if no one cares.
And lastly I just want to say, for everyone who's stuck with this so far and to my friends in private who encourage me to write this shitstain of a fanfiction: thank you and I love you all. I hope the rest of this poorly planned adventure keeps you entertained.
Also special thanks lockmart shill, you gave me one of the greatest mornings ever with that review.
Take care of yourselves buddies.