Chapter 5 - Bring Down The House

Lisbeth would be the first to admit that she wasn't exactly a girly-girl. Sure, she could get dressed up and enjoy herself like that - and she did, from time to time IRL - but she was also what her parents described as a tinkerer. She took a keen interest in technology, and more importantly, how that technology worked. What was connected to what, and how that related to another component, and how the fine balance of those components allowed it to function, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that... though possibly not to her parents, who still believed that her first phone had met its fate under the wheels of a car, rather than an improvised prying tool, as she tried to remove the back of it without heating the rear glass.

That interest had been narrowed down somewhat as she grew older, zeroing in on the world of aviation and the fine balance of engineering that industry demonstrated. How the specific components of a high-bypass turbofan worked, the intricate system of hydraulics and just how minute the tolerances were. Even the slightest of errors, and a perfectly designed aircraft could be left a smouldering wreck of twisted metal and scorched earth. It was a morbid thought, even when she wasn't in a game of death, but she'd found it kept her mind on the job at hand.

That job was fixing a number of cannon holes in an F-102A Delta Dagger, one of which had been where the remains of an unexploded shell had made its way into the J57, and was, at least according to its pilot, beginning to sound like a brick in a washing machine.

As it had turned out, that wasn't the only problem the F-102 had, given a 23mm shell was now lodged in the landing gear, and even more annoyingly for her, in the weapons bay mechanism. Lisbeth could appreciate a classic design when she saw it, but this Delta Dagger was turning into a massive headache for her, and the pilot of the craft had not helped with that. From the moment he'd stepped out of the plane, she'd known that he wasn't going to be an easy customer to deal with. The way he'd stepped out, his walk feeling like something you'd see from a Hollywood movie about ace pilots in the past, and the posture of someone who knew exactly what they wanted, and heaven be damned if they weren't going to get it. The sky blue hair, and arrogant smile had reinforced her expectations of the guy, and to paraphrase a song, that didn't impress her much...

He'd asked... well, it was more told, her what he expected, and that was to have his plane as good as new - or if she wanted the extra cash, better - before the next mission. She'd told him, in no uncertain terms, that she'd fix it to the best of her abilities and that he'd have his craft back when he got it as she was busy with other work...

Admittedly, that was a lie, but it wasn't as if she was going to drop everything to fix this tool's fighter. Unfortunately, that only works when you actually have other work, as Lisbeth had discovered. The past few days had been spent working on the F-102 out of spite, if anything - she would get it back in time, and it would be the best aircraft in the game, bar none, because she had made it so!

Which explained the headache she was starting to get, as she removed the missile bay door and the remains of a 23mm shell dropped onto the floor. Whoever said the life of a military mechanic was glamourous was not only wrong, but they were a complete liar too!

Deciding that the best option at the moment was to go and take a fifteen minute break, and then come back to it, Lisbeth put her tools down and walked to the other side of the hangar, to the vending machine. As she looked around though, she noticed an aircraft that hadn't been there earlier - a burnt out hulk of metal, in only the most vague outline of an aircraft. She could tell that the aircraft had once had a shock cone in the front, along with being a single seater, but that was as far as she could identify it. It was a sad sight to someone with an engineering mind, but this was the military, seemingly, and the aircraft looked as if it had been through every warzone imaginable...

It was at that moment that Lisbeth felt a tap on her shoulder, and snapped around to face the blue haired pain in the proverbial... ''You'll get your plane eventually! Gimme a break!''

...Only to find a very different person stood in front of her. The girl stood there was about her age, with long, chestnut hair, tied back into a ponytail that ran past her shoulders at very least, and with an expression of both confusion and a small amount of sadness on her face. Lisbeth felt like slapping a hand to her face, and she quickly snapped back into her salesperson attitude, beginning to apologise... ''Oh! Sorry, I thought you were someone else. Lisbeth, at your service, what can I do for you?'' She introduced herself.

''I, umm, my aircraft is... well, can you fix it?'' Lisbeth looked confused. The only aircraft other than the Delta Dagger in the hangar was that wreck, and it didn't take an expert to know that wasn't fixable at all! Which begged the question, where was- ''Oh.'' Lisbeth realised that it was the wreck she was talking about, and winced.

This wasn't going to end well for her up and coming reputation as Strangereal's best mechanic...

''Uhh, what happened to it?'' Lisbeth asked, looking around the molten wreck of twisted metal and rubber. There wasn't enough left to identify the type of it, let alone fix it!

''I had an engine fire, and well...'' The girl admitted, looking far more annoyed than before. Curiously to her, that anger didn't seem to be directed towards her, but herself.

''Ahh, I get ya. I don't think that's repairable though, there's... well, there's nothing left of it, practically speaking. You should have a replacement for it though?'' The girl shook her head, her hair flipping out from behind her. After a few moments of looking at her quizzically, Lisbeth realised what had happened with this girl's plane - the game still believed that the aircraft was there, and therefore hadn't given her a replacement. This gave her an idea... ''Tell you what, I'll take the plane off your hands, and strip it for spares, so the game thinks it's dead. At that point, you should have a new plane...'' Lisbeth hoped she was right, else she was going to look a bit stupid.

The girl seemed a bit downtrodden at this, but seemed to accept it as being the only real way to get a replacement. ''I suppose so...''

''I'll only ask for a single credit for it too, if that helps?'' Liz smiled, although it was quite obviously the smile of someone getting the better deal here, and a smile that was instantly recognised by someone else, who'd walked into the hangar during the conversation, and was watching intently...

''Still swindlin' pretty guys an' gals outta their hard earned credits then, Liz?'' The new girl, a significantly smaller woman, who had whiskers painted on her face, and a mop of dark blonde hair, grinned, as she wrapped an arm around the mechanic...

''I am not!'' She defended herself, scandalised by the implications. ''I'm helping her to get a new plane, Argo, because that-'' Liz pointed towards the hulk ''- was her old one.''

Argo winced as she saw the wreckage. ''I get yer point, but uhh, I din't get ya name?''

''Asuna.'' She answered.

''Asuna, if ya really don't wanna say goodbye to yer old bird, I've got an idea. Go and take a nut or bolt off her, and give it ta Liz here. Ask her ta put it on yer new one, an' that way, a part of her lives on...'' Asuna looked towards Lisbeth, who seemed to be okay with the suggestion, and walked over to the still standing nose gear, before pointing out a large bolt on the leg itself. Without wasting any time, Lisbeth removed the bolt, and handed it to Asuna to keep, and sent her a trade request... finally discovering what it actually was!

''Huh, it does not look like a Lightning anymore...'' She thought to herself. Mind you, it barely looked like an aircraft anymore, let alone a specific type. Still, Asuna accepted the request, and Lisbeth noticed her balance go up by a single credit as she did so, alongside a notification to tell her that she had a new item in her hangar.

Asuna, on the other hand, checked her hangar to notice that the Lightning, her aircraft, now had a symbol indicating that it could be used for missions again, and she quickly pressed on the craft, leading to a complete aircraft, entirely pristine, being stood before the three girls. With little hesitation, Asuna handed Lisbeth the bolt, and spoke up... ''Umm, Lisbeth? Could you give it a once over, make sure its as good as new?'' She asked.

''As good as new? I can make it better than new! Besides, you unlocked some parts for it, so I'll add those on for you...'' Lisbeth looked towards the chestnut haired girl, who actually looked as if she were about to cry in happiness...

It was things like that, that made her enjoy her role as the premier mechanic at Rechlin! Or quite possibly, the only player mechanic at Rechlin.

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Kirito was many things - an avid gamer, a surprisingly competent pilot, and an older brother/cousin, to name a few - but one thing he most definitely wasn't, was a good public speaker, and it was this that was now proving an issue, as he stuttered over his words to the base commander and a number of the squadron members around the base. ''So, uhh, that's the situation. Thanks to a reconnaissance flight, we know that the Belkan forces are operating out of Rhinemartial, and we think they intend to knock Rechlin out of use...''

''No shit.'' Stated a member of the crowd, before receiving a slap to the back of the head from another pilot.

A taller, blue haired man, flanked by another blue haired man, but shorter, and a man who seemed to resemble a startled porcupine, stepped forward from the group. The taller man carried himself with the air of a man used to leadership - a natural leader, who had the charisma to go with it. ''If it helps sir... I have a plan. A way to prevent any follow up strikes for some time...''

The base commander, an older gentleman, looked interested in what was being said. ''And you are?''

''Flight Lieutenant Diavel, sir. Leader of Liberator Flight. My plan is simple - two formations of aircraft. One wave of fighters will go in first, and draw out the defenders, equipped with spoofing equipment. This should lead the Belkans into believing they're chasing a wave of bombers, and that will hopefully spur them into throwing everything they have at that wave.'' Very few groups expressed any interest in that idea, which was understandable, at least in Kirito's eyes. That wave would potentially be sacrificial lambs, if things went wrong, and he had no doubts they would. Still though, Diavel continued, ''But that is where the second wave comes in. A mixed group of fighters and bombers, which will come in below the radar, and disable the runway at Rhinemartial. The fighters in the formation will provide top cover for the bombers as they come in, as well as suppressing triple-A fire.''

The base commander, now deep in thought, looked towards the remainder of the group, and asked the question that any sane person dreaded... ''Does anyone else have any ideas?''

The room remained silent, but restless.

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Whilst everyone agreed that something had to be done, as it turned out, no one wanted to do it. Diavel looked out over the twelve pilots who'd gathered on the flight line for the training runs, and sighed. Realistically speaking, he'd needed at least forty-eight aircraft, and even if everyone flew single seaters - a rather unlikely situation - they were only at a quarter of the strength they needed.

Four aircraft flying into the jaws of the Belkan air defence, to distract them, was a sure fire way to ensure that they lost at least all of those aircraft, and that didn't account for the strike package either, which could be left seriously undermanned, or even worse... completely undefended.

Over the years, Diavel had learned something important in planning: Any plan could fail at any moment, for any reason. It was better to be over prepared, and ready for any eventuality, than it was to be caught off guard with no plan whatsoever. For that reason, he'd asked if he could use the runway as a target, to allow the members of the strike package to get some training on runway busting. Whilst that was being undertaken, the fighter squadrons would engage in mock dogfights off to the west, over towards the coast.

The ragtag selection of aircraft was not ideally suited for a protracted dogfight either - his F-104 had a tiny fuel tank and very poor manueverability, both Lind and Morte flew F-102s, aircraft that lacked both manueverability and a cannon, whilst Kibaou's aircraft was, at least on paper, the strongest fighter of the bunch, the F-11B having four 20mm cannons, and provisions for Sidewinder and Sparrow air-to-air missiles, along with decent performance in a turning fight.

With little else by way of options, Diavel sighed. They'd just have to make it work... for everyone's sake.

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Kirito and Argo had volunteered for the mission as soon as they could. Not because they believed it was a good plan, but because they knew that something had to be done, and this had been the best possible situation. An all out assault on Rhinemartial would be tantamount to suicide, but there was at least a vague chance that something could be done here.

Stood off to the side of the small gathering were a growing crowd of players, interested in the planning of the first major operation of the campaign. The most intrigued by this seemed to be an aging gentleman, likely in his mid to late forties, who was looking at the pilots curiously. There was something about the man that Kirito just couldn't narrow down, but his expression just seemed... off. His expression gave off the impression that he was analysing each and every single member of the group - determining who would make a competent wingman perhaps, he thought to himself.

A pair of teenagers, one male and the other female were also stood nearby, conversing with each other in a language that definitely wasn't Japanese. What they were talking about, Kirito couldn't make out, but there seemed to be more than a little reservation on the part of the boy. There was certainly less reservation on the part of the girl, but without being able to speak... whatever language it was, he couldn't tell just how much was just nerves and how much was genuine concern at the meeting. It wasn't only the language that made them stand out: both teens wore blue overalls, rather than the more familiar khaki ones worn by almost everyone else, and both had naturally blonde hair.

Off to Argo's side was someone that she had apparently met in Liz's hangar, a girl who'd managed to total her plane, but wanted to go straight into the fight. Admirable, certainly... advisable, probably not. The girl stood to attention, her long chestnut ponytail flowing down the back of her neatly maintained flight suit, whilst her posture - almost perfectly stood at attention, with a degree of confidence in just the way she stood - showed that she must've been on the more well off side IRL. She certainly had that air to her, not that it mattered in here. Everyone was in the same situation after all.

On his side, Koharu stood at attention too, but her appearance seemed to display a far less confident image, her raven hair slightly ruffled, and her flight suit crumpled and creased in areas. To be entirely honest, that was understandable - the past three days had been spent in the air, training for as long as she could, practicing Basic Fighter Maneuvers with either himself or Argo in her new Hunter FGA.9. To say she'd worked herself to exhaustion was an understatement; the night before, and after five sorties that day, he'd had to actually lift her out of the cockpit as she no longer had the strength to do so herself... Needless to say, both he and Argo had told her she was not flying again today.

''Sorry we're late!'' A red haired man rushed onto the apron, with a number of men trailling behind him. ''You're still planning to take the fight to the Belkans, right?''

''No need for apologies! We hadn't started yet, and we are indeed! Can I ask your name?'' Diavel asked, still in leader mode.

''Klein, and these are all of Fuurinkazen.'' The red haired man introduced.

''Fuurinkazen? Wait... you fought alongside us to defend the base, didn't ya?'' The spiky haired member of Liberator Flight asked.

''Yeah, we did.'' stated Klein, standing slightly more proud than he had before. All of his group did, in fact. Kirito didn't blame them, he'd heard the story of the group who'd defended the base from Lisbeth when he'd taken his F-4 to her for modifications, and the pilot who chased down an Su-22, at rooftop level, and survived it unscathed. Apparently, the pilot in question had been the leader of a group known as ''Fuurin Flight'', and it didn't take a genius to assume that Fuurin Flight were actually Fuurinkazen. This Klein guy, if the story was true, evidently had some skill behind him and a small part of Kirito was looking forward to seeing him in the air...

''Okay then, so if we don't have any more volunteers?'' He paused for about a minute, waiting to see if any more pilots arrived. They didn't, and so he continued. ''Okay then, we're going to start. As of this moment, all players here will be on the active roster for the Osean Seventh Air Force. You will be organised into squadrons and flights tomorrow, as we start the preparations for our mission, but today, we will simply go through the plan. This mission isn't going to be easy, and we will require everyone to pull their own weight. We are outnumbered, and quite probably outgunned as well, but we will show them what happens when you mess with us!'' A sea of cheers and shouts came from the crowd, before Diavel discussed the plan in greater detail, the crowd hanging on his every word...

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Some time after Diavel's rousing success of a tactical meeting, Lisbeth had called Asuna back to the hangar. For her, there was a sense of apprehension present, as she stepped through the shutter doors, and into the bright lights of the hangar. This new plane, it wasn't hers - it would never be her first plane, it was a replacement - nothing more.

''Sorry it took a while, everyone's looking for every modification under the sun! Almost like we're going to war, or something...'' Lisbeth joked, her voice echoing around the hangar, before she walked over to her. ''Still, I hope you like it...''

The aircraft stood before her was not a replacement for her Lightning, not at all... it was so much better! The generic natural metal scheme had been polished to an almost mirror finish, with light glinting off the airframe from the bulbs above. The vertical stabiliser had been replaced with a new and larger empennage, painted in a perfect gloss white, with red relief along the tip of the fin.

Near the cockpit was where Lisbeth was most proud of her work. Beneath the canopy, and just aft of the shock cone and cannons, was a small piece of artwork. The words ''Wind Fleuret'', written in red and in an ornate serif font, the words pierced through by a sapphire blade. On the other side of the aircraft, were Asuna's player details, alongside a nickname... Corporal Asuna ''Lightning''. She could scarcely believe just what Lisbeth had done for her. A complete stranger, and she'd made sure the aircraft was not only flyable, but even polished the plane too!

''Asuna? Are you-''

''It's... it's... She's fantastic!'' She shouted, as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Lisbeth had become flustered by the sudden outburst and the compliment to her work, and had began rubbing her hand against the back of her neck, through her brown hair, despite the oil still on her hands. ''Heh, yeah, she is!''

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Sat in the rec room that evening, a number of groups had begun to form. Obviously, the various squadrons were all together, with Fuurinkazen at the bar, whilst Liberator had found a booth on the other side of the room, but noticeably, people had started to actually talk to each other, in the anticipation for their first real mission.

On the other side of the room, Kirito, Argo and Koharu had taken over a table, trying to work out any potential problems, and develop a plan around it. Their attempts to plan for what was essentially the unforeseeable had hit a rather obvious problem... they had absolutely no idea what units were being committed. Argo had taken a cursory look along the flight line, but amongst the veritable sea of Phantoms, Tigers and Hunters, only a few craft had really stood out - A Lightning that she'd assumed was Asuna's, looking considerably more shiny than before, alongside a pair of Mirage IIICs parked furthest from the hangars, whilst the aircraft of Fuurinkazen and Liberator Flight had been parked along a different taxiway.

Whilst the various options were considered, and for one reason or other, were relegated to the bin, Argo had looked up to see Asuna sat alone at a table, hidden away from the rest of the room. The look on her face seemed to be one of trepidation, and she wouldn't blame her. There was a reason they were already considering what would be done, should (or when) things go wrong, after all. Still though, it didn't feel right to her just to leave the girl alone with her thoughts like that. She'd seen her in Liz's hangar earlier, and the conclusion she'd drawn immediately was that the girl wasn't coping as well as perhaps she thought she was. ''Ya mind if I ask 'er if she wants ta sit wit' us?'' She asked the group. Kirito shook his head as he returned to looking at a diagram of the terrain they'd be flying through, whilst Koharu gave her a thumbs up and a smile, a pretty conclusive result, if she were honest.

''Asuna, wan't it? Ya wanna come sit with us?''

''Why?'' She asked, without even looking around to see who was talking to her.

''Well, ya never know whose squad ya may get put wit'. Maybe ya'll end up wit' us! 'Sides, no one likes sittin' on their own in a bar!'' Argo grinned, as Asuna stood up and walked over without saying a word.

''Asuna, this is Koharu-'' The black haired girl smiled towards her. ''-and this is Kirito.'' The boy in question seemed to have forgotten he wasn't in his own world, and continued to analyse the terrain map, even mumbling to himself on occasion.

''Is he... always like this?'' Asuna asked, somewhat confused by everyone being completely ignored...

''Not always, but...'' She changed her tone slightly, her voice becoming slightly lower as she leant over Kirito, getting very close to him... ''Kii-bou...'' He soon snapped out of his little trance, shaking his head as he began to look around, before settling on glaring at her. In response, she gave him a knowing grin.

Oh, she knew that annoyed him, but sometimes, it was worth it!

''Sorry, I'm Kirito. You are?'' He asked Asuna.

''I'm Asuna. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.'' With introductions over, Asuna took a seat next to Koharu, and the group continued discussing possible plans, or countermeasures. By the time the evening was over, they had came up with nearly twenty plans, for almost every eventuality - a number that was agreed by all present to possibly be a tad on the side of overkill.

Sat on their bunk bed, Argo watched as the clock struck midnight, and she received a notification. One that every player in amongst the Seventh Air Force would also receive...

[22nd November, 1968. Commencement of Operation: Operatic Society.]

{Author's Comments}

In retrospect, the fact it's taken me five chapters to just reach the start of the story is not great. Still, we're here now, and the players of the Osean Seventh Air Force are about to prepare for their first real mission...

If you're enjoying this, then please leave a review or drop me a PM, or follow and favourite!

Signing off,

Midland 2541.

Next up: The Road to El Dorado...