Lucas looked out the window at the golden sun starting to disappear behind the desert horizon as he made his way through the halls of the command building. He stopped and took a deep breath, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and figure out how he was going to say what was on his mind. One thing was certain, though; He needed to do something. After how atrociously the operation from that day went, he knew that for a fact. He could see the rift forming between the convicts and his friends, and as the squadron leader, it was his job to mend it.

Satisfied with what he was going to say, Lucas pressed on through the hall to Gates' office at the very end. As he got closer to the door, however, he started to hear a soft sound coming from inside Gates' office. Lucas' ears quickly identified it as music, guitar music to be precise. It wasn't a very complicated melody, yet it was a very elegant and beautiful piece. Lucas stood just outside the door for a moment to listen to the song before gently tapping his knuckles against the door a few times.

The music stopped, and a brief moment of silence set in. "Come in," Gates said. Lucas slowly pushed the door in before stepping into Gates' office and shutting the door behind him. Gates sat at his desk, holding a guitar. He looked up and smiled warmly at Lucas. "Ah, Captain Haynes- would you prefer I call you Vortex?"

Lucas paused. Truth be told, the name Vortex had become so intertwined with his identity that it felt natural, but he never forgot about the Vortex he knew. He still felt a tremendous amount of guilt every time he thought about her, and every time her memory found its way into Lucas' mind, he wished he could've done more to save her. "Captain Haynes is fine, sir," he finally answered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

Gates shook his head, still smiling. "It's alright. I don't mind."

"You're uh, very good with that guitar," Lucas said, scratching the back of his head. He felt like he should make small-talk before bringing up what he wanted to talk about, but he found that he struggled with small-talk at the least convenient of times.

Gates looked down at his guitar and smiled before setting it down and leaning it against his desk. "It was my wife's. I decided to learn to play after she passed a few years back; cancer," he explained. The expression on his face conveyed sadness and grief, but behind that, Lucas could see a glint of happiness in the commander's eyes, as if he recalled some pleasant memories. "That song I was playing was her favorite. She used to play it at the end of every day." He cracked a small smile. "Even now, she was still better at it than I am."

Lucas nodded. "Well, I'm sorry for your loss."

"She was a great woman," Gates carried on, still smiling. "When I met her, I was in a dark place. It was because of her that I was able to see the good in people and want to help them realize that good. I probably wouldn't have taken this post if it weren't for her. I know if she had the chance to try and help these convicts change for the better, she would take it. Although sometimes I'm not sure if I'm doing as good of a job as she would have…" His voice trailed off, and he briefly looked out the window before snapping his attention back to Lucas. "Sorry, I went off on a tangent there. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

Lucas straightened his posture as he spoke up. "Actually, sir, it's about the convicts. I'm sure you've heard by now, but there was a bit of a falling out on the mission today. I'm having trouble getting to them, and nothing I'm trying is working," he explained. "I was hoping that maybe you could give me some advice on how to get to them, or perhaps some insight into why they're here in the first place."

Gates rested his elbows on the desk and placed his head into his hands. "I was afraid something like this would happen," he said with a heavy sigh. "Don't worry. It's not your fault. They can be… difficult to deal with at times. It does get a bit frustrating, though. They're all exceptional pilots. I just wish that I could help them overcome these personas that they've adapted because of this lifestyle."

"Yeah, I've seen them fly, and there's a lot of potential there," Lucas agreed. "But it's like they don't realize that we're on the same side or something. If they put as much effort into fighting the Eruseans as they do into fighting us, the war might've been over by now." He smirked at his joke, but the smirk quickly faded as he got back to the subject. "It really is frustrating."

Gates nodded. "I understand. Crosswind struggles a lot with keeping them in line."

"How did someone like Crosswind, who seems to be your polar opposite, end up being the AWACS controller for this base?" Lucas asked, tilting his head. The question had been eating away at him for some time, but he never really had a good time to ask until now.

Up until that point, Gates had retained some of his kind and understanding expression. After Lucas asked his question, though, all of that vanished. "He wasn't always like that," Gates finally said after a long pause. "There was an incident that happened between him and the convicts, specifically Magnum, but I don't want to go into much more detail than that. It was, without a doubt, my biggest failure as the CO of this base."

Gates' response raised more questions than answers for Lucas, but he didn't pry any further. He could tell it wasn't a subject that wasn't brought up very often, presumably for a good reason. "I see. So, in regards to getting them to be more cooperative, do you have any suggestions?"

"Honestly, I don't really have much for you in terms of suggestions, but perhaps telling you a bit about them might help you come up with some ideas," Gates suggested.

Lucas shrugged. He wasn't quite sure how much it would help, but something was at least better than nothing. "Sure. What have you got for me?" he asked.

Gates turned his attention to his computer monitor and started typing something, but Lucas couldn't see what. "Magnum was court-martialed for killing one of her fellow pilots. Apparently, they tried to attack her and render her incapacitated to the point of not being able to fly anymore, but she was found guilty anyway."

"God…" Lucas muttered. He couldn't help but think about what would motivate a person to do something like that. Was there something Magnum had done to warrant such a thing? "What about the others?"

"Axe was arrested for armed robbery," Gates explained. "He tried to rob a bank, but he didn't get very far, and Dodger was caught trying to desert."

Lucas scoffed, finding Dodger's crime, not just ironic but painfully so. "That doesn't surprise me one bit. The one who runs away was arrested for trying to run away."

"It really is a shame that he's always the first break off," Gates added with a nod. "Based not only on his records but on how I've seen him in action, he seems to be a fairly decent pilot. I bet if he had a reason to fight instead of being forced, that might motivate him," he theorized. However, upon realizing that he was getting off-track again, he directed his attention back in front of his monitor. "As for Slipstream," he continued. "Originally, the police wanted to pull him over because they suspected he was driving while intoxicated, and this turned out to be the case, but he tried to evade arrest at first."

Lucas took a deep breath in and out. Everything Gates was telling him was certainly useful information, but there was still one pilot that he had yet to hear about, and it was the one he was perhaps the most curious about. For his seemingly close connection with Poet, if nothing else. He looked up at Gates and asked the question that had been on his mind since the first day they arrived at the base. "What about Trench?"

Jesse felt his stomach tie up in knots as he approached the doorway into the mess hall. He knew he had to have this conversation eventually, but that still didn't change the fact that he was remarkably nervous. He took a moment to steady his breathing, and while he did, he could practically hear his heart pounding against his ribcage. He grabbed the corner of the wall and leaned into the doorway, only poking his head in to scan the room. To his surprise, nobody was there, or at least, nobody he knew. Even his friends, who he would almost always find in the mess hall of the Kestrel II, were nowhere to be found. More importantly, though, Trench wasn't there either. Jesse let out a sigh of relief at the thought of not having to have this conversation for just a few more minutes. Although, he couldn't really think of where else to look. He didn't know if he was even allowed in the cellblock where the convicts slept, and even if he was, he didn't know which cell was Trench's. "I'll check the hangar, I guess," he said aloud to himself. "If he's not there, I guess I'll just wander around until I find him." With that, he turned around and left the same way he came.

Even after being on the base for two weeks, Jesse would still find himself making a wrong turn or two. He always was rotten with directions. Eventually, though, he managed to find his way to the entrance of the main building and headed out the door. With the sun practically completely set, the chilly desert air was starting to fill the air. Jesse turned to his right and started walking alongside the runway over to three large hangars. He went right past the first one where he knew he and the other Nexus Squadron pilots' planes were being stored and headed to the second one, whose doors were wide open. His eyes went over each plane; they all had their entire left side painted orange, and their wheels were booted. In addition, a chain kept each plane stuck to the ground. Finally, Jesse's eyes landed on the MiG-29, and just as he suspected, Trench was sitting in the cockpit. He made sure to keep his footsteps quiet as he slowly approached, making sure not to startle Trench. "Ahem," he cleared his throat to make his presence noticed.

Trench, who was staring blankly at the instruments in his cockpit, looked away and down at Jesse. "Oh. Hey, Poet," he said meekly.

"Hey," Jesse said, smiling warmly. "You know you really made an impression on the others today. It was brave of you to stay behind and help fight that Arsenal Bird." He decided to start off small as to not risk overwhelming him. It was so strange to Jesse. Trench was one of the most sociable and outgoing people he had ever known, but now, it was like he was a shell of his former self.

Perhaps for the first time since Jesse arrived on the base, he saw Trench smile. "I guess," Trench said absent-mindedly. "I didn't really think much of it at the moment. I just did it," he explained.

"If you ask me, I'd say that's a good thing," Jesse told him. "Your conscience told you to do something, and you acted on it." He felt the knots in his stomach return as he looked up at Trench. "Hey, do you mind coming down here? I wanna ask you about something." The tone in his voice shifted to a more serious one. Without saying a word, Trench climbed out of the cockpit and jumped down onto the hangar floor. It was then that Jesse realized how terrible Trench looked. He was practically a skeleton, and his skin was paler than Jesse had ever seen. Not only that, but his hair, which used to always be nice and combed, looked like an animal tried to make its nest there, only to give up. "Are you feeling alright? Like… are you getting enough sleep?" Jesse felt hesitant to ask, mostly because he was unsure of what Trench's response would be.

"Does it matter?" Trench asked bitterly, shooting Jesse a glare. "I'm just a convict. My health is irrelevant." He slumped down against the frame of his plane and leaned his head on his knees.

"It absolutely matters," Jesse insisted, sitting down next to Trench. "We're still friends, which means I care about you and want you to be alright." He looked over at Trench, pausing for a moment. "So, I wanted to ask you…" Jesse's heart pounded as he tried to form the words in his mouth. "How did you end up here?"

Jesse at least expected Trench to look up at him, but his gaze was still staring blankly at the floor. "Do you remember the old CO of the base we used to be stationed at?" Trench finally asked.

It was hard to forget the man. Jesse could only describe him as anything but pleasant. "Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, after you got transferred to Fort Grays, and I didn't, I just felt… I don't know, lonely. We had been with each other since flight school, and I wasn't really good friends with anyone else on the base." Trench finally lifted his head up from off of his knees and looked over at Jesse. "I was feeling down, and I guess I started slacking a bit because the CO noticed. He came up to me in that big winding staircase and started yelling at me like he never had before." Jesse saw Trench's hands clench up into fists. "I just felt so stressed because of you being gone and all, and at that point, I didn't really care what was gonna happen to me. I reached out and punched him, but…" He was visibly struggling to get the words out. "But he staggered a bit too far back, and… he fell all the way down."

Jesse wasn't really sure what to say. He obviously didn't like the man, but he never would've wanted him to die. What was worse, though, was that he felt like this whole situation was his fault. If he never got transferred to Fort Grays, none of this would have happened, and Trench wouldn't be in the situation he's in now. He took a deep breath, put a hand on Trench's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It's not fair. More importantly, though, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you." For a while, the two of them just stayed there in silence, and Jesse let Trench release all of the stress and emotion that must have been building up since he got sent here. A few more minutes passed, and Jesse looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, panicking as he realized how late it was. "Shit, I've gotta go. Can you promise me that you're gonna take care of yourself?" he asked as he stood up.

"Wait- can I come with you? I honestly just feel like I need to be with someone right now," Trench quickly asked.

Jesse smiled warmly and extended a hand to his friend, who was still on the ground. "Of course, I'm sure the others won't mind. I'm going to meet up with them in the mess hall."

Trench took Jesse's hand and pulled himself up to his feet, and together, the two of them left the hangar and headed back into the main building.

A beam of moonlight poured in through the window to Eva's room. She sat on the side of her bed, not really sure what to do. All she knew was that she didn't feel like sleeping yet. Although she expected Magic to be back from wherever it is that she went by now. It had almost been half an hour since she left. Suddenly, she saw something slide into her room from underneath the door. It looked like a piece of paper, folded in half. Curiously, Eva knelt down and picked it up. She could see writing on it but didn't read it just yet. Instead, she opened the door to her room and poked her head out into the hallway. She expected to see who it was that left the paper there, but the hall was completely empty. "Huh, well, this isn't weird at all," she muttered sarcastically to herself. Eva shut the door again and sat back down on the bed with the piece of paper still in her hand. She looked at the writing on the front and started to read.

"Diamond, I know this past month has been pretty shitty (an understatement, I know), but we wanted to do something for you to make sure you could at least have a decent birthday, so we all got together to write this card. I know this sounds sappy and all, but you've come such a long way in such a short amount of time, and I couldn't be prouder of you. You and the others are the greatest pilots I could ask for, and quite frankly, I probably wouldn't even be alive without you, so here's to hoping you have a happy birthday, even if the mission today sucked. -Vortex"

Eva couldn't help but smile, and she felt a single tear start to slide down her face, but she quickly brushed it off. "Oh, you guys…" she muttered to herself. She opened up the card and saw it covered in writing, all with varying degrees of legible handwriting.

"Hey kid, I've never really been good at writing these kinds of things, but I'll just say that I've gotten to watch you go from our nugget to a total badass in such a short amount of time. (I like to think I had a part in that.) Needless to say, I'm glad I've been able to meet you. Have a happy birthday. -Charger"

"We may not have known each other for very long (even if it feels like it), but I like to think that we've been through a lot together, and because of that, I've really gotten to know you. You're smart, funny, and a good friend. I hope you have a happy birthday, Diamond because you deserve it. -Poet (P.S You're an amazing pilot -Trench)"

"Hey, roomie, happy birthday! I know the mission went terribly today, but you never fail to kick Erusea's ass. We've had a lot of fun conversations together late at night, and those are probably some of my best experiences with our squadron (don't tell the others). Anyway, happy birthday! -Magic"

Eva scanned through the card again, curious as to where Lucky's note was until she flipped the card over to the back and saw the longest message out of all of them.

"Eva, I've been thinking long and hard about what I wanted to say here ever since I came up with this idea, but to be honest, I don't really think any words I could come up with could do any justice. When I first met you on that transport to Fort Grays, I never would have thought that you would end up being the best friend I could possibly ask for. We've been through the best of times and arguably the worst of times, but you managed to come through all of it, and really, you inspired me to do the same. I know things may not be great right now, and they haven't been since this whole mess started, but I think we're gonna get through it just fine. In the meantime, I hope you're able to enjoy what little of your birthday is left by the time you get this. -Lucky"

It was then that Eva noticed she had started to cry again. She smiled and wiped the tears away. "God, I really lucked out when I got assigned to such a great squadron," she murmured. "I just wish Trigger could've been here too," she added hesitantly. She still wanted to get back to Fort Grays with the slim hope that she could help sway his trial and help clear her friend's name, but after what had happened that day, she didn't have the most hope. However, she pushed that thought aside for the moment, folding up the card and putting it securely in one of the pockets of her flight suit before lying down on her bed, looking up at the ceiling as she drifted off to sleep.

Author's Note: You know, I think this may be my favorite 'on the ground' chapter so far (It's either this or Aftermath). This chapter was supposed to come out earlier, but then Project Wingman came out and I absolutely love it. In fact, I'll probably end up writing a fic for it sometime in the near future, so watch out for that. Anyway, hope you enjoy!