Silence

Nothing but goddamn silence.

No window, no clock, no bed.

Not even a goddamned chair.

Trigger hated this. Solitary was a goddamn nightmare! This was torture, it had to be some form of torture. He hated it. Wait…he already said that.

Trigger sighed and his stomach growled. Since they didn't get a chance to eat breakfast due to the attack yesterday. His internal clock was all messed up. He had no idea how long it had been, He assumed a day? He got really tired at one point and fell asleep.

Thank God for his genes. He inherited the ability to sleep anywhere, so he was actually able to get a good amount of sleep. How many hours, he didn't know. But he felt rested, so…That had to mean something right?

God he was hungry, and thirsty. He wished he would have gotten the chance to drink something before they threw him in here, but they didn't. He was still in his flight suit too, and that wasn't helping. He would have thought someone would have gone through his things. Turns out they didn't, and he didn't know that there was still the group picture of Mage and Golem's blackjack game. Clown, Brownie, Knocker, and even Sky Keeper was all a part of it.

He…missed them. His heart sank when he saw the picture. Trigger wondered if they actually missed him at all.

Knocker wasn't even his flight lead, but was still helpful, always willing to lend a hand with repairs. He would even offer tips on Trigger's flying. When they landed after Harling was killed though…Knocker came up and decked him in the face. Then chewed out Clown, Clown just shifted the blame back to Trigger.

Clown…was a good flight lead. Well, so he thought. Trigger's view of Clown was very muddled now. Someone he once looked up to as an honest, caring, and fun flight lead had now turned into a image of someone who just gave half assed answers.

"I was closest…what a load of crap."

There it was again…He'd been talking to himself more and more. The last time he had done it was when he was a kid. His throat was even a little raw from his full on rant that he had when he was first thrown in here.

Talking, was not his strong suit. Before, everyone in Mage and Golem squadrons were very understanding. They wouldn't question when Trigger went quiet for long periods of time.

Everything changed when Harling's plane was shot down, they just saw it as him being guilty…if only Sea Goblin had gotten to the president with no issues.

If only Colonel Johnson hadn't been killed by the missile strike.

If only damned Harling would have just continue on out of the AO. Everything would have been fine.

If only Erusea didn't have control over the Arsenal Birds.

If only that damned Princess had understood that the space elevator was for something greater than just simple land. She was worried about something as simple as borders, when the space elevator was about mankind reaching the stars, together.

If only Brownie hadn't…

"No, she's gone." He rubbed at his eye, it stung.

But if she was there, at the lighthouse she could have helped. She would have vouched for him.

"She's gone."

Brownie would have helped too! She would have been there with him watching his back.

"I wasn't there for her…why would she be there for me? I left her…She deserved better. Instead she died in an insignificant war. In a damaged plane trying to just retreat. With no support." Trigger's lip quivered.

They had even heard the pilot who had killed her over the radio. Someone wanted them to know that they had killed her. Not a drone.

She had called for him. She was so scared, Trigger had heard the pure fear in her voice. Something he had never heard from her before. She was always confident and headstrong, it was completely different when she called for him. His breaths were coming in short now.

Him…

Not Knocker, Not Golem Squadron.

Not even just mage squadron.

She called specifically for him.

And he did nothing to save her.

Trigger felt the tears running down his cheek before he could even process that he was crying.

His friend was gone…She wasn't coming back.

His whole body shook, tears kept rolling down his cheek, his chest hurt.

Brownie trusted him with so much. Yet he couldn't do a damned thing.

Trigger could barely breathe between the sobs. The picture in his hand dug it's way into his very soul. Crushing it utterly.

What good was he. Stuck in here. Rotting away.

The tears kept coming, hot and staining his skin. Like the blood that was on his hands.

He deserved to be here.

Harling's blood was on his hands…wasn't it? Whether he wanted it or not, he killed Harling.

Death was all that he could create.

Harling was dead. It was so simple. Just a pull of the trigger. Two missiles between the old president's eyes.

What good was he? Could he ever do anything else?

His sins were clear.

He should just…

Die.

Trigger blinked quickly and shook his head, trying to bring himself back into focus on reality. Using his free hand to wipe away the tears that still sat in the corners of his eyes. He sniffed loudly. Then took a deep breath.

He'd lost track of time again.

This solitary confinement was getting to him. There was nothing he could do to escape it though, was there? He had to 'atone for his crimes'. Whatever bullshit that was.

Right then, He kinda wished the people Osea had gotten their wish and executed him. He'd probably be better off dead right now. At least he wouldn't have to be in this hell. He wouldn't be starving, he wouldn't have to worry about his throat being so dry.

His old flight instructor once told him that there was a special place in heaven for pilots. Where they could always fly free. No one and nothing to hold them down. Just the freedom of flying into the deep dark blue sky, forever.

Trigger really would have preferred that over this bullshit.

Suddenly, the door clicked.

Trigger hurriedly stuffed the picture back into his flight suit.

The door slowly opened, and a guard stepped in. "Alright Murderer, your solitary time is done. Come on." He kicked Trigger in the shin.

Trigger winced and glared at the guard. His eyes must have been really red from all the crying he did. Cuz the guard immediately stepped back. Looking rather fearful.

Trigger slowly got himself to his feet. "So…where to then?"

The guard just motioned to the door, Trigger obliged them and walked out. A couple of other guards shoved him down the corridor. He sighed and carried on with a slight limp, he hoped this wouldn't be to interesting.

444 Air base

July 2, 2019 11:15

It turned out, his answer was simple, debriefing, shower, change of clothes, food, then shoved out into the yard. The other Spare Squadron members were milling about, minus Champ. Trigger even noticed that on one end of the yard was a open gate that led to the hangers. Maybe he could get a chance to work on the X-02. Set things up more to his liking, maybe start painting hi-

"Trigger!"

Trigger's head snapped up as he was called out, all of Spare Squadron looked over at him. He started panicking a little. Everyone was looking right at him. They all had different looks, but he could get this overall sense of judgement. He swallowed slowly, his throat went dry again. He stood there for a bit, eyes darting back and forth, scanning for whoever had yelled out his callsign.

"There you are!" A tap on his left shoulder and Prez came into view a huge smile on her face. "Come on, lets get away from these losers." She motioned for him to follow.

Trigger tilted his head slightly. Wondering what she was on about, but, followed none the less. He walked slowly behind her. Trigger bit his lip slightly as everyone just stared. He saw Count, who was glaring in his direction.

Prez led them up to the open gate and nodded to the guards. "We're going to go check on our plane, make sure everything is up and running so we can better fend off the next attack."

The guards just nodded, one of them huffed in annoyance, but that was it.

Prez just walked right by them. Trigger followed, he wasn't stopped or anything. He kept looking back in confusion.

"I know right! What kinda prison just lets their inmates walk over to airplanes freely?" Prez chuckled. "But sure enough if you tell them you're going to go work on your plane, they won't ask a thing." She shrugged. "Way better than solitary, am I right?"

Trigger shivered and frowned.

"Ah, I take it your time in there went about as well as mine." She sighed heavily, slowing down her walk so she was walking side by side with Trigger. "You wanna talk about it?"

Trigger tilted his head. Did he? He had gone through a lot in there, and while Prez did seem nice, he didn't fully trust her. Well…a least he felt he shouldn't trust her. He'd only known her for about a week or so. But…hell she did actually seem genuine, and had been helping him out a lot. He looked to Prez, pointed at her, then back to himself, then a single thumbs up.

"Ah, only if I do too right?"

Trigger nodded. Shrugging slightly and making a bridge with his fingers between his hands

"Hmmm, yeah you're right, it's only fair. Who's going first?"

Trigger raised an eyebrow, and pointed to her.

Prez laughed. "Ohhhh! I see how it is!" She spun around and started walking backwards, arms behind her head, a grin across her face. "I mean I was the one to bring it up wasn't I?" She pouted slightly as she walked.

Trigger kept following her, he squinted slightly at her.

"Just thinking, thats all." She mumbled out the response, Prez's eyes were tilted slightly down, seemingly scanning the ground.

Trigger gave her all the time she needed. Letting just a quiet stroll relax him. This wasn't like solitary though, where it was so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat. This was just a natural quiet. He could hear the wind rush across the runway, the waves rolling against the rocks, a few birds singing in the nearby trees, even the dull roar of a single plane in the distance, probably on patrol.

"Alright, I'll talk about it. But!" She pointed at him, "You're not allowed to tell anyone! Okay! I'm only telling you this because I trust you. You tell anyone and you're dead Trigger!" She poked him in the shoulder.

Trigger nodded quickly. "Same goes for you."

"Of course! I wouldn't dare." She grins again. "We good?"

"Yeah, won't tell a soul."

Prez's grin widened. "Good." She led the way to the last hanger. "Come on, lets get set up, then we can have our chat." Prez turned back around and jogged to the last hanger.

Trigger jogged slowly after her, smiling as the Strike Wyvern came into view. He'd only flown in it once so far, but he really was loving it.

Prez came up to him, handing him a pencil and notepad. "Here, write down whatever you need, if they have it, the guards will get it."

Trigger gently took the items from Prez's hand, staring at the notepad for a moment he though about what he would need. He looked at the Strike Wyvern's tail and thought about it. Then started writing, cardstock, orange spray paint, black paint, a brush, white paint, red paint. He tilted his head, wrote in some maintenance gear. Then went over to Prez, handing her the notepad.

She simply nodded, wrote in her own items, then handed it to the guard, who took the notepad, and walked off, mumbling as they read through the list. Prez just scoffed once the guy was out of earshot. "Wow…they are really confident about being able to shoot us down."

"Could also have the planes rigged."

Prez looked at Trigger in shock. "No…No way."

Trigger just shrugged, he stared at Prez and waggled his eyebrows.

She frowned slightly. "No no you're right. When I think about it…it makes sense." She sighs. "Alright, ready to get into the rough stuff."

Trigger nodded, he walked over, hopping up and sitting on a nearby tool cabinet.

Prez tilted her head, but did the same, joining him up on the cabinet. "Well…all of this…it's actually really rough on me." She laughed.

Trigger raised an eyebrow and pointed to her.

"Yes! You ass!" She gently punched him in the arm. "I'm tough, but…when it comes to this, I'm not as tough as I'd like to be." She thinks a bit, eyes looking up at the ceiling, kicking her legs forward slightly. "I became a mercenary for the money originally, I sent most of it to my family back home. Got a big old family, and they need the money." She chuckled. "But, eventually it became really fun. I got really good at being a weapons system officer, too good some might say." She grinned, but it quickly faded. "But, Monarch…he kinda stopped needing me as much. We got a big job, huge payout. Monarch used his money to get his hands on a nice brand spanking new F-22. That in itself was huge, the newest planes we hand before that were F-16s. I went from being Monarch's WSO, to just his mechanic."

Trigger squinted at her slightly. Curious as to where this was going.

"Look it's a long story, so just bare with me." Prez put her hands out in a mock defensive gesture, then put her hands down, slouching. "I was always a bit left out before. The rest of our squad was pretty close knit before I joined. Comic and Dip were nice. They'd talk to me every now and then, but…other than that they were always busy talking to each other." She frowned slightly. "I never felt like I belonged. I was always just, second to Monarch." She looked at Trigger. "You know?"

Trigger looked at her, then nodded slowly.

"Right." She took a deep breath. "I tired to connect with them more and more. But they just kept pushing me away. Monarch I could talk with, but after a while even he became disinterested." Prez took on an angry pout, staring at the ground. "Never wanted to take me along to anything anymore. Always in the F-22. I started barely seeing Dip or Comic. I was lucky if I saw them once a week. Then as we were on our way to our next contract…Crimson." The pout slowly disappeared, just becoming a blank stare.

Trigger's hand was already moving towards her shoulder before he could process it. He paused barely an inch away, uncertain of what to do.

Prez just glanced over at him, and put a hand up, shaking her head.

Trigger left her be, his hand slowly going back down to his lap.

"I was…terrified. I saw Hitman break off to fight them, and I just wanted to be there with them, I had offered a few times to get my own plane, to fly alongside them. But, they didn't want me. Then the missiles came, ripped a hole through the fuselage. I was barely able to bail out as our transport went down." Her hand shook slightly, she quickly balled it up into a fist. "I hit the ground hard, but I was alright. The air battle was still going on, but I could see one of our helicopters searching for survivors. So, I fired a flare." She paused, just a good minute of complete silence. "But…they left me."

Trigger glared slightly, he was…angry.

"I'm sure they just didn't see the flare, hell it could have been anything. I'm sure it wasn't on purpose. But…after all that time of just being, alone." She frowned again. "It just broke me." Prez took a deep breath. "Look, what I'm getting at is this. Solitary sucked. Like…fuck, I'm still shaking a bit from being in their so long. It felt like months. If thats what we get for flying and following orders? I know it's going to be tough."

It was Trigger's turn to frown. This was it. She was just going to leave him to fly alone. Just like everyone el-

"But, you chose me." Prez looked at Trigger. "You could have gotten anyone. But you chose me. You and I…we're not here because of decisions we made. I know everyone calls you Harling's murder, but I feel like thats bullshit. You don't seem like you wanted to make that choice. We're both here under pretenses we have no control over and some rich dudes in suits making a decision because it just gets them off." She huffed. "I thought I would be locked away, never see my old corps or my family ever again. Nor did I think I would find anyone I would get along with." She smiles, "So…thank you. For choosing me, even if it's just for that one flight."

Trigger looked at her, and shook his head.

She tilted her head and squinted. "Eh?"

He sighed slightly. "You're sticking with me."

Prez jumped, quickly sitting straight up. "Oh! Really?" She paused, "Really really?" She leaned forward, squinting slightly.

He chuckled and nodded, it was ironic that she was asking that now.

"Shut up! I don't want to get my chain yanked! It's happened enough already!" She giggled.

He raised his hands in front of him and shrugged.

Prez giggled more. "Look! I'm serious! You keep this up and you'll be stuck with me."

Trigger smiled, he wouldn't mind that. He knew he would be here a while. With the way Spare Squadron was, he knew he wasn't going to find many friends here. But Prez, Prez was alright.

Prez paused, looking at Trigger for a moment, then leaning back. "Ah! I…I, Huh…Well I…" She pursed her lips. "I…you're serious?"

Trigger just nodded once more, raising one eyebrow then tilting his chin down.

"Alright, alright I get it!" She pouted and crossed her arms.

They stayed like that a while. Trigger staring her directly in her eyes, and Prez defiantly staring back.

Until Prez waggled her eyebrows.

Trigger suddenly started giggling, then laughing.

Prez scoffed out a chuckle, then started giggling as well. "Why is this so…" her giggling overtook her for a second. "Fucking….Funny?" Another fit of giggling took over.

Trigger kept laughing. it was a hearty and warm laugh, he hadn't laughed like this in ages. All he could do was shrug in response to Prez's question, which made her giggle even more.

It took them a good four to five minutes to calm down again. Both of them slightly panting for breath.

"So…on a more serious note…" Prez took a deep breath. "Why the paint?"

"For the plane." He looked at her, one eye squinted, one eyebrow raised.

Prez rolled her eyes. "Well Duh!" She put her hands up in a mocking stance. "I meant more specifically what it's for."

"Ah…" He pointed to the tail, "Gotta paint my emblem."

Prez tilts her head. "Wait…you paint?"

Trigger nodded.

"Huh…was not expecting that." Prez thought a bit and looked back at the Strike Wyvern. "Where? The nose?"

He shook his head. "Tail." He pointed at the tail wings, just below the sin lines. "Good fit, even if the tail folds down."

Prez tilted her head in thought. "Could you do mine as well?"

Trigger looked at her, she was still staring at the tail fin, her eyes had a longing sense to them. "Absolutely. Sketch it out." He thought for a moment, they had no idea when the guard would be back. "Leave it in the cockpit. I'll do them both."

Her eyes lit up. "Wait! Really? You mean it?!" She smiled brightly and hopped off the tool cabinet they were sitting on.

Trigger just nodded. She deserved at least that if she was going to be his WSO. Who knew how long this war would go on?

Prez pumped her fist. "Yesssss! You are the best Trigger!" She giggled again and sprinted off. "I'll be right back, gotta get a notepad. Dumb guard ran off with my other one."

Sighing deeply, he leaned back against the wall. For some reason, the toolbox had become quite the comfortable seat. He hadn't forgotten that he needed to tell his side of things soon. He would keep his promise, and his end of the deal. He kept staring at the X-02, it really was a beautiful plane. He wondered what other tricks it had up its sleeves. Or what he could do with the paint scheme, it was alright. But it could use a little something…more.

He also wondered what would happen next. Prez made a good point, Erusea was going to figure out this base was a fake sooner or later. Hopefully later…He wanted to be back in the sky. At least one mo-

"Hey Dumbass! It's for tools, not to be used as a fucking chair. Get off."

Trigger jumped as someone yelled at him. He immediately got off of the tool cabinet he was resting on, and looked towards the voice.

The Scrap Queen had made her appearance once more. She limped towards him, and now that the base wasn't under threat of being bombed to hell. He could tell, she didn't look like she was supposed to be here either. Trigger raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yeah my leg is all messed up, thank you, you don't have to remind me." She glared his way.

He held up his hands defensively. "Sorry."

The Scrap Queen paused. "Oh, it's you." She grinned. "Nah, I should apologize, I thought you were one of those bums." She pointed back at the prison yard. "They're always coming over here saying they want to do work on their planes. I just find them slacking off of course, nothing but bullshit and lies here." She grunts in slight pain as she puts down her own toolbox. "You however, I know you're just waiting for the shit you asked for." She laughed. "You really confused the guards with all the paint you asked for."

A chuckle bubbled out of him, Trigger smiled and nodded. Hey, the paint was important to him, so he was going to ask, if he was missing some colors he'd make do with what he had.

"You don't talk much do you?" The Scrap Queen approached him. "Well thats better than most, then I know you won't bad mouth me when I'm working on your plane." She scoffed. "Idiots don't even realize I can just rig their planes to fall apart."

She was right, there was a reason you should always be nice to your mechanics. They made sure everything worked, they never asked for much. But, you piss them off, they'll make your life hell. He chuckled slightly again.

"So, what do you think of her?" She pats the Strike Wyvern's nose. "I was honestly surprised to see this thing here when they dragged me in. Thought I would give it a shot." She paused. "To be fair…it ain't a full blow X-02, some of it is cobbled together. But I feel like I did a good job."

"Flies like a dream." Trigger gave a thumbs up and a smile. He walks over, putting a hand on the fuselage. "Looks like it was brand new to be honest."

The Scrap Queen raised an eyebrow. "Oh! Really?" She pursed her lips and looked over the X-02. "I know you used to be an actual military pilot. Some even said you were an ace."

He frowned, but nodded. "Don't know about the ace part. Even if I was, it's gone now."

"Still. You're not bad, for a dumbass." She grinned slightly. "Nice to see that someone appreciates my work."

Trigger nodded, only to have a wrench thrown at him. He swiftly ducked under it, glaring at the Scrap Queen.

"So why the fuck!" She growled at him slightly. "Was it riddled with bullet holes?!"

Oh, well she's pissed off, rule number one broken. He looked at her, squinting slightly. Then raise a single hand, with two fingers raised.

"Try eight dumbass! You took hits to a noncritical part of the fuselage!" She grabbed him by his collar. "Do something like that again and I will skin you alive!" She pauses. "But it's fixed, so I better get a fucking thank you."

"Thank you…for all of your hard work." Trigger swallowed slightly. "And, sorry."
The Scrap Queen paused. "It's a beautiful plane." He tilts his head. "How'd you do it?"

The Scrap Queen slowly let go of his collar. "You're being honest?"

He nodded, his eyes squinted, eyebrow raised. "Why not?" Hell, everyone's dark secrets were out for display here, he knew all the callsigns they had were just the crimes they committed. Hell, the base commander literally told everyone what his crimes were. He didn't have any secrets to keep. He stood up and brushed himself off. Then picked up the wrench from earlier, handing it to The Scrap Queen.

She stood there, stunned for a few moments. "What are you trying to gain here?" She glared up at him.

Trigger just shrugged. "Nothing."

She glared at him more, her eyes narrowing.

"Just curious."

She kept glaring.

He just looked back at her. He wasn't going to bother her to much if she didn't want him to.

"I don't trust you." She glared a little more, then sighed. "This place is bullshit."

He laughed, "Agreed" Trying to get on her good side, but she was right, the place was bullshit. "Any checks you need to do?"

She paused, then pulled out a list. "Yeeeeep, first time in the air, I gotta run the maintenance checks, especially after you took shots to the fuselage, those areas are cleared and looking good." She read through her list a bit. "But I've got to do the equivalent of five A checks to do, and your plane isn't the only one." She sighed. "On top of that the higher ups want me to start working on another plane…apparently they found an F-14D just sitting around that was in near perfect condition. Unfortunately…" She groans and clenches her fist. "Someone ripped out all the goddamned wiring…for some fucking reason." She sighed. "If I ever get my hands on that dumbass I will rip them a new one I swear to god."

"Alright," He held out his hand.

She looked at him, eyebrow cocked up. "What?"

A tilt of his head. "Thats the list?"

"Yeah? What's it to yah?" She hissed, clenching her teeth.

"Prez and I will handle it." He pointed to the tool cabinet. That would have everything they needed. On top of that they were both fully trained to preform A checks. Hell, he could handle everything up to C checks. He had to, incase of emergency.

The Scrap Queen paused, Her mind processing what had just been offered to her. She paused, handed the checklist over to him, looking him dead in the eye. "You're weird." She grumbles, "For a supposed murderer anyways." She took a deep breath. Going over to put away her wrench. "I know you can do it, so I'll let you, you fuck it up, and I'll have your head."

"Yes ma'am" Trigger saluted her.

"Sure, whatever." She made her way out, packing up her toolbox and limping away. "I'm going to go do my other work. Just next time try not to do anything to crazy in the plane. I worked hard on it to see it busted up in one flight."

"No promises, but I'll try." He grinned happily.

She flipped him the bird as she walked off. "As long as you try dumbass."

Trigger chuckled and smiled, She seemed nice at least. He went back to thinking about what to do with the plane. He liked the color scheme well enough, it was more camouflaged than what he was used to. But it wasn't bad.

"Trigger! I'm back!" Prez came up to him and glared at him. "Now what the fuck did you do?"

What did he do? He looked at her in complete confusion. Just talked with the Scrap Queen and she was mad at him! The trust issues were annoying, but made sense. From what he heard, She was here on bullshit pretenses too.

"Were you mean to her? She did all this hard work!" Prez jabbed him in the chest with two fingers. Glaring up at him.

A quick shake of his head was his response. He didn't do a damned thing, he was polite as he could be. Oh fuck did the Scrap Queen tell Prez some bullshit story or something?

She kept glaring at him for a good while. Then slowly backed down. "Ah…I see, sorry, she just looked really upset for some reason. Was it about the plane again? She was in here a while back replacing parts."

Trigger just nodded.

"Yeah she was really pissed. Strangest part was when I offered to help…she just glared. It was terrifying." She handed him a new notepad. "Anyways…Here's my emblem, thanks again Trigger."

He took the notepad and looked over the sketch, it was quite simple. A seal it looked like, heroically sat upon a rock. He nodded slowly in approval. He could definitely work with this. Maybe jazz it up a bit with some bl-

"No…keep it simple, I like simple." Prez stood there, arms crossed, glaring a bit at him.

Simple was alright, but this was pretty simple. He raised an eyebrow. Was she sure she didn't want at least some waves or water around the rock to give it a little extra detail or pop?

"Yes I'm sure. Look I like keeping things simple, makes it easier to put on different planes. Unlike some people who do full on pinups or other shit like that." She scoffed. "Like seriously…come on what are you thinking. Or animals with weird colors, thats like bordering on just pure insanity."

Trigger pouted at that. His orange wolf emblem wasn't that bad! Was it? No he had kept it for a while, he would stick with it. He planned on making this one a little bigger than usual, but that would all depend on how big of a sheet of cardstock the guards would get him.

"Ahhhh shit…you're going to paint a weirdly colored animal, aren't you?" Prez pursed her lips with a frown.

He glared back at her a bit. He was the one painting and it was his own goddamn emblem, it could be anything he wanted, maybe even a purple platypus. Huh…that actually wasn't a bad idea, he could do it with a knife…no no that doesn't work with his callsign.

"No! Nope! No no no!" Prez waved her arms back and forth. "Nevermind! Just do what you were going to do. You're right, it's your emblem and you're the painter, not me." She made an okay sign with her right hand. "Look just…" She took a deep breath, "thank you, for all of this, it means a lot to me."

With a nod, he tossed the notebook at his seat in the X-02, then handed her the checklist from the Scrap Queen.

She paused, taking the checklist, glancing back and forth between the list, the plane, and Trigger. "Ohhhh I see, she came here to do maintenance checks huh?" She nodded slowly as she went down the list. "I hope you're trained in these kinda checks Trigger…cuz if you aren't you're getting a crash course right now." She glared at him. "Don't you dare think you can get out of volunteering to help without doing any work." She pulled out a wrench from her belt and started to gently tap it in the palm of her hand.

"I…" What the hell is going on with the mechanics and threatening him with wrenches. He put up his hands in defense. "I'm trained for everything on that list."

Prez's threatening glare vanished as suddenly as it arrived, replaced by a toothy smile. "Well good! Why didn't you just say so dumbass?" She continues reading over the list as she heads to the toolbox. "Seriously, we've got enough work to do as is with no pay. A bit of help is certainly welcome."

Trigger just paused and looked at her. Why did she call him dumbass? The Scrap Queen kept calling him that too. Oh no no no, he was not changing his goddamn callsign to dumbass. He already had his callsign an-

"Dude, chill, chill." She giggled loudly. "Fucking A man, it was a joke, you're still Trigger don't worry." With a flick of her wrist she opens the entire tool cabinet. "Well, the guards aren't got to come by anytime soon. They're caught up trying to scrounge up whatever paint they call. Which is weird because we've got an entire fake runway that was painted onto the ground, full of fake fully painted planes. But no one, and I repeat, NO one can find a single god damn can of paint." She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Seriously, the fuck."

He did find that strange, it really shouldn't be that hard to get their hands on some paint if he keeps seeing truckloads of it everywhere. He was pretty sure that when he was first brought here along with Prez, one of the palettes had a crate full of black paint cans. So what happened to all of that?

"Don't overthink it." Prez interrupted his thoughts, moving to her tip toes, tapping him on the nose. "Seriously, stop."

He frowns slightly.

"Look it's not something to worry about right now anyways. Right now what we need to worry about is this." Prez gave the checklist a few pats. "So come on, lets get to work, alright?"

Taking a wrench for himself, Trigger smiled and spun it in his hands. "Right."

They looked over the X-02, and smiled. This, this was something they both knew, that they understood.

No bullshit, no lies, no someone trying to get an upper hand on them.

Just a simple maintenance check.

Before they knew it, the sun had set. They were already half done with the checks, but the guards said it was time to pack up for the night. They left to check all the other hangers, telling Prez and Trigger not to leave and wait for someone to come get them.

Prez chuckled as she started putting away all their tools into the cabinet. "Okay, I've got to say. I'm Impressed."

Trigger tilted his head as he handed her a water bottle. "How so?"

Prez looked at the water in surprise. "Ah, thank you." She popped off the top and took a sip. "I wasn't expecting you to be that well trained." She chuckled. "In aircraft maintenance I mean."

"Eh? That not common?" He tilted his head, taking a sip from his own water bottle.

"You'd be surprised." She rolled her eyes. "Throughout my career as a mechanic, I've had so many pilots who are like," She sat straight up and frowned hard, taking on a mocking voice "'Nah babe I got this.' they say." She leaned back and laughed, all back to normal. "And of course when I go to check up on the progress. Boom, half assed job."

"No…no way." He looked shocked, why the hell would you waste your mechanic's time like that? You're just making more work for them in the end…it just didn't make sense to him.

"I know right! It's so fucking dumb!" She giggled. "It's like oh yeah, thanks! You gave me three times the amount of work too because you didn't record what you actually did. Here's your reward." She hefted her wrench like she was going to smack someone with it.

"My flight instructor taught me." Trigger tilted his head, looking down in thought. "Said he knew how to do it, and it saved his ass more times than he could count." He grinned slightly. "Spent a whole week teaching us, and would test us constantly on it."

Prez squinted her eyes slightly. "Huh…thats a damn good flight instructor. Didn't you say he used to be a merc?"

"Yeah. Damn good one too." He nodded. "Or so I'm told."

"Wait wait, did he do his own maintenance?"

"It was only him and his wingman for a long time. No other crew. They had to do everything themselves."

Prez just stared, then she laughed. "Huh…If I ever get back to hitman team I'll…I'll…I…" Her smile suddenly dropped. "If I ever…get back…" She sighed deeply and slowly made her way over to the tool cabinet. She sat on top and pulled her legs close, so her chin was resting on her knees.

Trigger stopped his work and looked to her, he wondered if there was anything he could do, any comforting words he could say. She was just as lost as he was here. She had a squad, a team. While they had been distant, it was still something she could call hers. Trigger didn't know if anyone could call this place theirs. Maybe Count? Since he seemed to always want to be in charge.

"I just…need a minute Trigger, do you mind finishing putting things away for me?"

Picking up more tools, he just nodded. He worked on getting everything put away as Prez just stared at the ground. It only took him a few minutes, but he had everything in place. So he closed the tool cabinet and secured the door. Leaning forward against it, he looked over to his right.

Prez was still just staring at the ground, lost in thought.

Opening his breast pocket, he pulled out the picture that had haunted him earlier that day. Handing it to Prez.

She jumped slightly, and looked at the picture, gently taking it and staring at it for a good moment. Her eyebrows raised at recognizing Trigger's face. She looked a little more hurt as she looked back at him. "Well…you guys look like a good group. Wish I had something like them."

"No, you don't." He winced, realizing he didn't word it right. "Well…not them exactly."

"Why?"

"They abandoned me…except Brownie. She was dead before I got caught up in this mess."

Prez looked at the picture in shock. "Abandoned you? How? Why?"

Trigger took a deep break, and talked. He was still getting used to talking more, still not his strong suit. "Harling…his…death." He tried not to blame himself. "I was blamed for it. No one wanted to stand up for me or defend me. Not even my team." Fists clenched, he continued. "They all called me murderer, assassin. Some even attacked me, no one moved to stop them. Even my flight lead didn't do a damn thing. Just said I was the closest, that alone basically sealed my fate."

"But…why? Why would they do that? I mean I know Brownie…you said she was dead before all this happened. Right?"

He nodded. "Yeah…I…..I couldn't save…save her." Running his hands through his hair, He took a deep breath.

"She couldn't have been the only one who was close to you, right?"

"You're right, she wasn't. But…they all just…turned on me. We were all peacekeepers, we took an oath to uphold peace and put the people of Usea's needs before our own. To protect and prevent another war. But…once the war started, everyone changed. It was small at first. But Harling's death was a turning point." He took a deep breath, trying not to break down. He focused his attention on the wall in front of him. The rage in his chest burned, he was so angry at the way he was treated. Betrayed. What good were countries if they didn't work towards the betterment of their people. What the hell had he been fighting for under the IUN?

"Trigger."

Trigger's head snapped towards her voice.

Prez looked at him, a warm gentle stare. "Hey, fuck those guys, if they didn't want to help you. They they aren't really your friends. Plus…remember. You're stuck with me now." She grinned.

With a tilt of his head, he asked a question, something he needed to know for a while. It was burning in the back of his mind. "Promise?"

Prez held out her hand, "Promise." Her grin held.

Trigger looked at her, she looked so sincere, and happy. Compared to how she looked moments before, broken and lost. He remember she looked like this when he had told her he was serious about having her sick with him. Frozen for just a moment, he remembered Brownie. Guilt bubbled in his chest, if he couldn't protect her, who's to say when it came down to it. Could he protect Prez? He had already lost too many friends, to war, or to lies.

Turning, he looked at the Strike Wyvern. No, he would protect her, and she would protect him. They would work together, and damn anyone who tried to break them apart. Slowly, he turned back to Prez, and smiled back.

"Good." He shook her hand. "We're sticking together then."

She smiled, a big toothy grin. "Yeah, we are Trigger. I'll watch your back."

He paused, it was as if she had read his mind once again. "Same here Prez, Same here." With those words, his question was answered.