Well, This originally was posted to AO3, but a few people were asking if I could upload this to Fan Fiction. So I decided it would be a good idea. I hope you all enjoy.

"So…What are you in for?"

Trigger sighed in frustration asked he was asked the same question for the seventh time today. He was just getting tired of have to answer the same damn question. Thats all it had been for the last week. Court after court, tribunal after tribunal, all of them basically just for show. Calling him a murderer, assassin, killer. Clown abandoned him, the IUN discharged him, angry Osean citizens threatening him, no one cared what he saw. Now he's being shipped off to a penal unit. He just wanted some peace and quiet.

Three transports and five stops later, and Trigger was about to rip his hair out. All of these various actual criminals all had the same look on their face, that slight smirk, the raised eyebrow, the glint in their eye that said "I've done worse than you.". He did nothing, he was doing his job. Protect the target, escort the target out of the area of operations, away from the lighthouse. Then Sea Goblin goes down, a missile strike taking out Colonel Johnson, and everything fell apart.

Trigger felt the rage build up inside him and his head snapped up he was ready to cuss out whoever this little shit was so much the guards might have to hold him down. Oh this criminal was about to get it. He was innocent, he was simply blamed because he was the closest one to a downed plane in the middle of a furball. It was the most asinine thing he had ever seen in his entire life. He took a deep breath…then paused.

Across from him, was a woman. Definitely military, airforce probably, the way she sat in her seat told him everything. Sat straight up, legs kept together, prepared to brace against G-forces. Of course there weren't going to be, but it was out of habit, trigger was sat the same exact way. He tilted his head to the left a bit as he looked her over. She had freckles along her cheeks dark eyes, and blonde hair. She just smiled lightly at him. None of the usual looks he had gotten from the other criminals. He was about to ask her the same question, she didn't seem like she wa-

"Yeah I know I don't look like I'm supposed to be here either." She shrugged. "I'm honestly just bored, I've been on transports all day and I can't stand it anymore."

Trigger rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement.

"You too huh?" She laughed. "Damn bastards wouldn't even let me keep my gear."

Trigger tilted his head again. He hadn't said anything but she was understanding everything he tho-

"Oh, sorry, yeah my old pilot was the silent type, so I had to get used to understanding him via other means." She raised her handcuffed hands in defense. "You kinda give off the same vibes."

Trigger just nodded, very impressed, he didn't like talking that much, especially when flying. He did it when he had to read back or report something. The only one who he was really able to talk to was Brownie, who was gone now. He kept forgetting that. He frowned and looked to the woman. He decided to answer. "A crime I didn't commit."

She just nods. "I feel that. I'm a mercenary. Or…was I guess." She sighs. "We got shot down by a peacekeeper force who assumed we were working for Erusea. Wouldn't listen to anything I said, even told them to reach out to my corps and they would explain the whole thing. It was of course, refused." She laughed. "I guess they're just booking us for whatever they can."

Trigger scoffed, she was right, there wasn't any official court case at all for him.

"No official case for you either?" She looked shocked, "Yeah, this is all bs. I could kill for a drink right now…Probably not getting one for a while." She sighed heavily and leaned back. "Could kill for some wine."

"Peacekeepers? IUN?" Trigger spoke up again, curious. His eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, IUN, no idea what they were doing so far away from Usea, but sure enough, they hunted us down."

Trigger wondered who had shot her down, he squinted slightly, trying to remember if he was told of any squadrons that were outside of Usea, there were a few that he knew of that worked as boarder patrol. But, he had no idea of who they were.

"Crimson, that was the squadron. Didn't get a good look at them though. My pilot was flying a single seater that day, I was in a transport that Crimson took down." She sighed. "I just want to be back in my seat as wso, and get paid." She grumbles and looks down at her feet. "They won't even let me out on bail."

Trigger frowned and nodded, he hated it, but a life sentence was a life sentence. Well, it basically was. He definitely wasn't going to last all two hundred years.

"You too huh?" She laughed. "Well…I'm glad to see I'll at least have someone to talk to while I'm stuck." She grinned, ear to ear. "I'm Prez by the way…or…that was my callsign." Her smile started to fall.

"Trigger." He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Prez."

Her smile came back, happy to see that at least someone who understood the importance of her callsign would call her by it. "So…anyone tell you where we're going?"

Trigger just shook his head and shrugged. No one deemed him worthy of information. "Penal unit, Usea, probably east coast."

Prez's eyes went wide. "USEA?! The hell are we doing in usea! Do they expect us to fight they're fucking war for them! I'm not some free labor someone can just toss out! I've got rights as a citizen!" She growled as one of the guards laughed. "You wanna go? huh?" She glared at the guard who laughed. "Could probably kick your ass even with these handcuffs."

Trigger just smiled and glared at the guard too. Oh, he liked her a lot. He was going to stick with her as much as he could. Might as well make a friend or two where he could. He looked back at her and nodded in approval.

Prez laughed slightly. "Glad to see you and I will be getting along, it's probably going to be boring as hell." She sighs heavily. "I just want to be in the copilot's seat again."

Trigger nodded, he was going to miss the sky. The freedom he felt behind the controls, it was so far away now. He was going to miss it so much. His old flight instructor had probably heard the news by now. Probably was pitching a fit, he always said that countries at their core were corrupt, never looking to the future, always worried about the now, and their boarders.

Prez just nodded. "I'm going to miss it too, the sky I mean." She frowns. "I used to fly with aces."

The transport started to descend. The guards stood up. "Welcome to your new home inmates. We hope you find it comfortable." The one speaking just chuckled. "Well…actually we don't give a damn what you think, murderer."

Trigger glared at them, but was more focused on looking out the window. This looked like an airbase…not a prison. Runways, hangers, and tons of planes, there was everything from bombers, to recon craft. Hell, this looked to be the fob for the Osean airforce.

"Ummm…I think you guys might have the wrong address." Prez finally spoke up, just as confused as Trigger was.

The guards just laughed. "Sure, sure, whatever."

Prez just glared again, Trigger was just downright confused. If this was their prison, why the hell would it be an airbase. At least he could be close to planes, even if he wouldn't be able to fly one again.

That was at least nice.

Right?

Prez's concerned face said otherwise.

Operation: High Card

July 1, 2019, 08:06

Prez was right, this place made no sense. Trigger was hurriedly putting on a flight suit as a guard yelled at him to get his shit together.

"You've got a briefing in two minutes Inmate! I better see those boots on in the next thirty seconds or it'll be my boot on you." The guard was an ass, Trigger glared at him as he was distracting Trigger from his usual routine, the even more jarring thing was the fact that this was his flight suit. It even had the IUN and Mage squadron patches still on it. This was all his equipment, even Brownie's radio was in here. That was even more distracting.

He was still haunted by Brownie's last words. She called out for his help, even though they were in different squadrons, they always said they would help each other out. But he was just to far away, his F-16 couldn't handle the amount of speed he needed to get to her. He ended up burning out the engine of his old F-16 when he attempted anyways. He stayed awake some nights, wondering if there was anything he could do. Brownie was a good pilot, and a great friend.

God did he miss her. Her radio was the only thing he had. She had given it to him so that Trigger could hear her at anytime, so they could chat without the top brass butting in. It was a universal radio. It was an older Belkan made model, allowed him to pick up whatever non secure radio signals were going around. He could still hear the voice of Brownie's killer. He shook in rage, then took a deep breath as he finished tying his boots. Just in time to block a kick coming for him with his shin, he grimaced as he did. Then the second kick came in, he wasn't able to block that.

This place had been so rough on him, apparently someone had found out about his apparent, 'murder' and there were rumors going around with the other inmates. Some of them said it was all a part of the Erusan princess's plan. It still creeped him out that all the inmates here practically worshipped her. He didn't even think any of them were Erusan anyways, so where the crazy amount of loyalty came from…he had no god damn idea.

Luckily…Prez had been a huge help, staying up with him on the nights where he couldn't sleep just by chatting quietly with him, and was quickly becoming a good friend. She muscled her way into the hierarchy of the inmates by beating up a guy twice her size. If the way she fought with her fists compared to the way she fought in the air. Oh, Trigger couldn't wait.

And that, was the strangest thing. The briefing, the base, the prison, everything. It was the strangest plan he had ever heard. Make a fake airbase with mothballed planes and just, send the inmates up in planes because it made things more realistic. Even crazier, there was only one woman who worked on the planes. The Scrap queen. She apparently was in for breaking wartime aviation laws…which, made zero sense from what he got with details from Prez.

He'd only seen her once, Prez knew more than Trigger did honestly. He zipped up his gear bag and sighed slightly as the guard shove him in the right direction, barely giving him time to put his bag over his shoulder. He marched, quick step, all the way to the briefing room, which was filled with all of the worst inmates. Now he knew why some of them were so cocky. He heart dropped however when Prez was no where to be seen.

He took a seat nearby the one guy he knew was somewhat chill. Tabloid if he could recall. Tabloid simply raised an eyebrow at this, but paid it no mind. Champ was nearby too, still sporting a large angry purple bruise on his cheek from where Prez had decked him.

Then, the base commander walked in, Mc…something. Trigger couldn't remember his name. Everyone just called him the base commander or the warden. The tac screen started up, and everyone started to quiet down instantly. Trigger raised a surprised eyebrow, this seemed, very normal actually. He was starting to feel comfortable.

"All right guys, I'll let you in on some juicy info. The new guy was found guilty by the International Union Peacekeeping Force's court martial. He is the murderer of Harling in the flesh." There we a few whistles from the other inmates.

Trigger's eyes went wide and his heart dropped. Well…shit, that was out of the bag. He knew that was going to give him some unwanted attention. As if he didn't have enough already.

"His TAC name's Trigger. Now, as of today, he may be attached to the Osean Air Force Base 444 Squadron, but that's just some symbolic bullshit. It doesn't really matter if he's Harling's murderer or not. Every last one of you has been incarcerated for one reason or another. You cons have an obligation to atone for your crimes."

Trigger just looked disturbed, the hell was all of this? Atone for our crimes? He thought he heard something…like a distant engine, but was to distracted.

"A few of you in the penal unit know how to fly, and HQ needs to plug the deficit in our air force. So they proposed sending you guys on a reconnaissance mission to the Waiapolo Mountains."

Recon? Prisoners doing recon? The hell was all of this! But, it seems that idea was rejected so. Thats okay? Why is he here then?

"This base is a decoy designed to draw enemy fire. And, as members of this base, you'll be taking hits from the enemy. This will allow our forces to safely prepare a counterattack."

Trigger just sighed quietly. This was redicu-

The ground shook, the screen flickered, and the shockwave from the explosion hit with a resounding thump.

"Incoming!"

Alarms started sounding, Trigger quickly stood, expecting panic. But….No one moved.

"Switch off that alarm! It's just the usual." Switch off the alarm? The usual? The base commander made a comment about Zapland. Then looked at his assorted prisoners.

"Okay, I'm gonna need a few aircraft to scramble."

"Again?!"

"I wonder how many we'll lose today…"

"Better than solitary."

"How many can actually fly?"

"Enemy aircraft detected over the dummy runway."

The Tac screen updated with targets.

"We just need to make it look like we can put up a fight. Some of those piles of junk can at least take off. Let's get the guiltiest cons in the sky first. We'll start with Harling's murderer. We don't expect you to down any bombers. But what we do want is to make them think that we've got an active base here."

Trigger's eyes widened, There was nothing he could do. He just took a deep breath, picked up his bag, and went over to the guard. "Get me a plane."

The guard just shrugged and started into a jog, "Keep up murderer. Or it'll be solitary for you."

Trigger kept up just fine, this was way more spacious than a carrier, so it was easy. "AWACs?" He directed the question at the guard.

"The fuck do you mean by that?" The guard just ignores him as they come to the hangers. He talks with another guard who just shrugs and points.

Trigger sees an SU-33, but it looks like it already has a pilot, it's got one line painted on it's tail. And a top hat with wings. This was someone's plane. He tried to figure things out when he was suddenly shoved.

"Move it Murderer. We gotta get to the next Hanger, it seems the scrap queen had a special project going, and it's all ready for you."

Trigger grumbled but jogged along, his bag smacking against his back, and he froze as he reached the next hanger.

Sitting there, fueled and armed, with the Scrap Queen herself doing final checks was an X-02. A Strike Wyvern, Here? In the middle of no where. It was painted in a dark grey with blue wingtips. Three white lines were painted on the tail wings. The underside was painted in a light grey-blue.

Trigger looked at the guard. "You're joking." He points to the plane, which he just noticed was a two seater.

The guard scoffed. "What, going to look a gift horse in the mouth?"

Trigger just raised his hand in frustration. "Wizzo, I need a Wizzo."

"Who the hell is going to be your WSO, you're not even going to be firing weapons up there, you don't need to worry."

Trigger just growled and grabbed the guard by their collar. "I need….a Weapon System Officer. They do more than just weapons, you ass." He pokes the guard in their chest with two fingers, hard. "Get….me…Prez, prisoner number four-two-two, she's in the cell across from mine." He releases the Guard, who he now notices is completely terrified. "Now."

The guard just nods and quickly runs off.

Trigger watches him go, his head tilted.

"Everyone here is a little scared of you. Not many murderer's here. Especially ace pilots who are being given a plane." The Scrap Queen finally spoke up. "You're right though, you're going to need a Wizzo. This plane is a beauty."

Trigger nodded. He wasn't going to deny that, he started putting on his gear, and doing his checks. "You have duct tape?"

Scrap Queen looks confused, but tosses him a roll. "Here…why you need it?"

Trigger pulls out Brownie's radio. "Secure."

"Ah…I see. Well more power to you, Keep the roll. I'm sure you'll need it, and I've got plenty more." She chuckles and climbs up to the cockpit. "Alright you're all good to go." She climbs down. "Just do your final checks and adjustments and get up there."

"Eat my ass!" Trigger and the Scrap Queen turned in time to see Prez jogging backwards towards them, she was in a flight suit with a helmet in one hand, and her other giving the middle finger to whatever guard brought her. She turned around and paused. "Trigger?"

Trigger nodded as he lowered the visor on his helmet and put it on. Making sure it was secure. He just pointed to the wso position, made a fist, then pulled down.

Prez looked overjoyed. "Wait, wait, wait. I get to….No…I won't be paid. Buuuut…" She thought about it, then shrugged. "What the hell, right now it might as well be a nice chair on the beach." She chuckled and put on her own helmet. "So what am I running?"

"Ecm." Trigger climbed up into his seat. More explosions detonated in the distance. He started doing his final checks.

Prez hopped into her new seat and started strapping in and doing her own checks. "Copy that. I'll focus ecm. Hope you know how to fly, maybe you can impress me, though I'll let you know. I've flown with aces before."

Trigger looked back at her, as their X-02 was pulled out of the hanger and onto the tarmac. "Really?"

Prez scoffed. "Dumbass, yes I have." She went back to her work. "Now lets get this thing running, we've got a sky to take for our own." She booted up the radar and started tagging targets. "AWAC's connection is good, reviewing targets."

Trigger just looked up as he closed the cockpit canopy, it was a sunny day. The sky however, was a deep, dark, blue. He felt a chill down his spine, here he was, back in a plane. Taking off into unknown skies.

There were three types of aces…he wondered which he would become.