Author's Note : This fic contains a few graphic scenes, but keep in mind that this story isn't meant to be a dark and gritty Yukiyukite-inspired gorefest that's main purpose is to scar you. No, this fic isn't meant to be taken that seriously. It's just a bunch of air shenanigans coupled with a bit of dark humor.
So anyways, enough talking, enjoy the one-shot!
September 27, 2012
Today's my first mission in the 204th Saunders Bombing Squadron. And to anyone I know who's reading this, yes I'm in a bomber now.
After that accident with my plane, my superiors reassigned me to this squadron. They said this mission I'm on right now would be hard, like I was "going to hell and back". I don't believe them, at least not to that extent.
I know protecting a bomber is easier said than done. I've seen hundreds of them be shot down on TV. But our mission today's to just fly across the Ryukyu Islands to bomb some sort of fortification Chi-Ha-Tan and Kuromorimine made. My captain said it was an old bunker made by the old guys from the early days of Senshadō or whatever the hell.
It's pretty peaceful right now (so much for the ride to hell and back) but Captain told us to stay alert at all times. Even though our plane's called a "Flying Fortress" it's very much not.
This thing might be hard to shoot down, but that's only if we get lucky and the enemies are complete idiots.
Anyways, Cap ordered me to do a weapons check so I gotta go.
September 27, 2012
15:04 P.M
Somewhere over the Ryukyu Islands, Japan
Above the calm Pacific waters, flew a squadron of American bombers, 36 strong. Their looming presence was quite intimidating for the fishermen down below. They thought that a war was breaking out.
The leader of this fine air fleet was a young and ambitious man named Allen Melville, aged 16. He, along with his sister, Eden Melville, piloted a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress they nicknamed the "Widowmaker" along with their mostly American crew.
"Alright boyos! We're less than three hours away from our target! No doubt Chi-Ha-Tan's gonna send out the best fighters they've got now. They can pop out at any moment so let's do a weapons check real quick. Sound off!"
What followed were each of Allen's gunners responding to the weapons check.
"Left waist gunner, ready."
"Right waist gunner here, I'm good too."
"Tail gunner at the ready! I'm always alert, cap!"
"Hey Captain, why'd you put me in the belly gun, I didn't do anything!" Michael exclaimed. He had been sitting inside the cramped turret for over an hour now and frankly, it was getting uncomfortable.
"That's what you get for skipping school, Mikey!" the tail gunner, Tobias, teased him, hoping to gain a reaction.
He only got a short, "Shut the hell up," as a counter though.
"Quit yapping back there, you two!" Eden exclaimed. This promptly got them to stop. And so the weapons check continued.
"Dorsal gunner, I'm all good up here."
"Keep your eyes open, Doyle. I'm counting on ya here," said Allen.
"You're talking to the vision test champion, Captain! You don't gotta worry about a thing!"
Eden gave a quick retort, "You still pride yourself on that, huh?"
Then suddenly, an unfamiliar voice spoke through the comms. "Nose gunner, I'm ready."
"Whoa, who the hell are you?!" Allen exclaimed.
"That's the new guy dumbass! You met him last night outside the dorm!" replied Eden.
"What?! He's that guy? But I didn't know he was gonna be our new recruit!"
"We thought surprising you was better Cap!" said the tail gunner.
"You could've told me earlier ya know!?"
"Eh, well, I kinda forgot," the co-pilot said with a chuckle. "It's no biggie though. The important thing is that you know he's here!"
"Right… so, care to introduce yourself fresh mea- I mean, new guy?"
"Um, yeah. It's Kenji Suruga, sir. I used to be a P-51 pilot but I got reassigned here. It's an honor to be working with you," he then bowed even though no one could see.
"P-51's… so I'm guessing you were part of the Flying Foxes' squadron, right?"
"Uh, no sir, I was in the 9th Fighter Squadron, not the 8th. We were more focused on combat air patrols and fighter sweeps rather than escorts. Plus, our pilots were mostly Japanese."
"Ah, that's a shame then. I was hoping to hold you ransom so Cassady could finally pay me what he owes."
"What?"
"It's nothing, forget I told you. Anyways, you must've done something bad for you to get here. They didn't just pass you onto us for no reason, right?"
"Yeah, I'd… rather not say. It's pretty embarrassing if you ask me so you know… a-another time."
"Come on, don't be shy dude! I promise I won't tell!"
Kenji didn't respond to this so Eden answered for him. "He's the guy who crashed the Mustang into the football stadium, Al."
"Ohhh, you're the guy I saw on TV the other day! That football game was wild dude! There was fire everywhere, people were screaming, I saw this one dude with a piece of shrapnel stuck in his leg-"
"H-Hey Captain, could we uhh… drop this? I… don't really like… talking about it."
"Oh, so you're one of those people… I guess you're still pretty disturbed about that happening. I mean, it's only been a week after all. L-Let's change the subject then! So how's the whole trip been treatin' ya?"
"Pretty fine I guess. It's much more comfortable than a P-51, that's for sure. I don't get lightheaded as often either."
"Lightheaded? So you can't handle high G's? Maybe that's the reason you crashed?"
"..."
"Right! Right! Back to the topic at hand-"
"Captain! This is Liberty III, do you copy?" Suddenly, one of Allen's wingmen radioed in and interrupted their conversation.
Annoyed, the captain picked up and said, "What is it now, Lindell? If one of your guns is jammed again, let the engineer handle it."
"I-It's not that, Captain! We have bandits at 3 o' clock, flight of six, u-umm Angels 26! Requesting permission to fire?"
"What the hell do you think they're gonna do, give us an airshow? Open fire!"
"Roger that!"
Allen then looked to his upper right and saw his wingman's B-17 blindly firing towards the general direction of the bandits. The other bombers which flew near it began opening fire as well.
Meanwhile, Allen and his crew were getting ready for battle.
"Alright people, this is where the fun begins! You all know your jobs, you all do your jobs, alright? No fuck-ups! Remember, we don't want a repeat of last week."
Everyone gave their affirmations before they went into radio silence.
Allen had one last thing to say though. "Hey Kenji"
"Uh, yes sir?"
"You told me you were once a fighter pilot? Well, that would mean you had experience with shooting down planes right?"
"Yeah? What are you getting at here?"
"Well, since you're practically the most skilled gunner in this aircrew, we're all gonna be rootin' for ya to shoot those fighters down!"
"Uhh, you know, I'm not sure I can translate my skills to fighting in a turret that easily…"
"I know! This is just for morale reasons 'kay? Having a skilled gunner aboard just raises the crew's spirits a bit. At least now we know we stand a chance, even if the chance is as small as a fly."
"Hey shouldn't we be keeping radio silence right now?" Eden asked.
"O-Oh yeah, yeah… See ya later newbie! Let's hope you're still breathing when we start our bombing run. You're gonna wanna see it. Captain out!"
With that out of the way, Allen could now focus on the business at hand. At first, he asked his wingman, "Alright Lindell, do you have a visual on our interceptors?"
It took a second for a response to come back. "Yes sir, I have them in my sights."
"Alright then, what's the make of the planes?"
"They're uhh, Mitsubishi… umm... Oh crap, they're Raidens! We should be careful sir! Those things are bomber killers."
"Copy that, out." Allen replied before turning to his sister. "Hey uhh, what's a Raiden again?"
"The plane that most of the Chi-Ha-Tan aces use," she gave a calm reply.
"Well shit, guess it's GG's for us."
Eden then placed a hand on his shoulder and reassured him. "Hey, I heard most of 'em are taking a break from flying right now so there's no chance we have an ace in the sky."
"You think so?"
"Bro, I know so."
"Oh shit watch out!" Just then, one of the Japanese fighter planes zoomed past the captain's bomber. It was so fast that the gunners didn't even have time to fire a single shot.
The left waist gunner tried his best to shoot it, but was unsuccessful as it quickly got out of range. "No hits! Oh crap, here comes another one!" he turned around and saw another plane, this time coming right at them. The other waist gunner tried to shoot it but got a bullet to the shoulder for his trouble, blowing his arm clean off.
Sammy, the left waist gunner, immediately realized his partner had been hit after he heard his blood-curdling scream.
"Holy fuck! He got hit! Carter got hit!" he told the captain in a panic.
"Don't worry, James, we'll get him an ice pack when we get down. I'm sure that'll fix it." Allen replied rather calmly.
"B-But his arm came off! We gotta help him now or else he'll die!"
"Well then get a fucking medkit and deal with it! I'm trying not to get us hit here!"
Then Kenji suddenly interjected. "Wait, someone's wounded?!"
"Don't worry about it, new guy, just focus on shooting those fighters. Also, stay in radio silence!"
With no other choice, Kenji ignored what had happened. And just when he looked ahead of him, a Raiden flew past, luckily targeting another bomber instead of theirs.
Though relieved, he was also disappointed that he couldn't take a shot at it.
"Raiden at 2 o'clock! He's coming in in a half roll!" the radioman, Varley, reported. "He's comin' right at us! Deal with it, new guy!"
Right as Kenji spotted it, he responded with a quick "Ryoukai!" before opening fire with the chin turret.
The Raiden faced its nose towards the B-17 before letting out a burst of fire and then speeding away. Kenji failed to bring him down however, only shooting off a few parts off the plane.
Unfortunately for him, one of the bullets from the Raiden grazed his shoulder, luckily not blowing it clean off like Carter. He let out a grunt once he touched his wound.
"Holy crap, hey new guy are you alright? That Raiden got some good hits on us." asked Allen.
"Y-Yeah I'm fine… shit that hurts… I-I thought bombers had carbon protection? Why'd he shoot me straight through that glass?!"
"Eh well… Don't tell anybody this but umm… the guys who made this kinda… cut corners. It's for financial purposes alright? We didn't have enough money to pay them to build us a proper bomber so we kinda just bought the Great Value version with limited carbon armor," replied the captain sheepishly.
"You… what?!"
"Carbon's expensive alright?! This was the only way we could participate in Hikokidō."
"B-But that's illegal! You could get arrested for that!" Kenji exclaimed as he made his way to the radioman's compartment to get his wound patched up.
"I know… That's why I forbid you to talk about this topic! Treat this plane like Oceania from 1984, alright? Everything I just told you is just a myth. Now get going! Our navigator can only cover your position for so long!"
"R-Right," Kenji chose to drop the subject and continued on.
Halfway to the radio compartment, he heard the pitter-patter of bullets just outside the aircraft, to which he flinched in surprise. I gotta hurry… he thought before quickening his pace.
Kenji passed the bomb bay, where he ran his hands along the cold steel surface of their payload. Surely Allen coated this part with carbon, right? We'd all be dead from one shot if not.
When the ex-fighter pilot finally arrived at the radio compartment, he noticed the skies had suddenly gone quiet, as if the attackers had enough for the day.
"Hey uhh… Where- Where they'd go?" he asked.
"The Raidens? They're regrouping. They're gonna come back for another pass eventually so don't worry about it, you'll get another shot at 'em," said Varley.
"Well umm, how long will they be gone?"
"Give it ten to fifteen minutes, new guy. Don't worry, if I or the captain see anything, we'll tell ya. Now here," he then passed Kenji a small box of medical supplies. "Your shoulder's letting in sunlight so you should probably patch that up."
"Oh umm, thanks."
"It's no problem," Varley said with a smile, "If you ever need help with anything, say your gun's malfunctioning, just hit up Doyle alright? He's the flight engineer, he knows how to fix things."
"I will," Kenji nodded. He then turned around and went back to his station.
With the threat temporarily gone, Allen now had to assess the damage.
"This is the captain speaking. Now that those interceptors are gone, let's do a status report. Sound off!"
"Tail gunner here. I am A-okay!" exclaimed Tobias.
"Left waist gunner, I-I'm fine too. Carter… he's… he didn't make it…"
"Well that's a shame," he remarked with no sense of grief whatsoever, "That means you gotta cover two spots now, Sammy."
"I can handle it, Cap. Hey uhh, what're we gonna do with the body though?"
"Oh that? Don't worry, we'll throw it overboard when we head home. Nobody will find it, trust me. Some sharks will probably just eat his guts or something. Ahem, anyways, continue on with the status report. Michael, you're up."
But no one responded…
"Uhh, Michael? You there? Cough if you're paralyzed… Cough if you've been mortally wounded... Cough if you're dead!"
"Did you really just say that, Al?" Eden retorted.
"Oh yeah, well there's really nothing you can do to tell us you're dead… Alright Michael! Enough games! Respond now!"
Half a minute passed and there was still no response from the belly gunner. With the aircrew being on bided time, Allen chose to skip over Michael and onto the others.
"This is Varley. I'm fine, no scratches, no cuts, no wounds. Our equipment's doing fine too."
"Good. Check in with the other aircrews, see how they're doing."
"Roger"
"Alright. Now Doyle! Is your head still attached to your body?"
"Yes sir! I am unwounded!"
"Glad to know, now keep your eyes peeled. Those Raidens could be back and we don't even know about it."
"This is Kenji. I'm doing fine. My shoulder hurts, but it isn't as serious as earlier. Oh and our navigator says she's fine too."
"Her name's Merritt, Kenji. Also, how's your gun? Did it jam during the fight earlier?"
"No sir."
"That's good. You know, that chin turret's always been a pain in the ass. Always jamming, always overheating… You should pray it doesn't break down right in the middle of a fight."
"Uhh, roger,"
By now, Varley had completed his inspection of the other bombers and was now ready to report. "Captain! I've gathered each of the aircrews' sitreps. Most of our bombers remain unharmed, thanks to our enemies' limited numbers. A few of us were inflicted with damage though, such as our upper right wingman."
Allen and Eden both turned to their rights and saw their wingman's plane's engines smoking. "It's pretty obvious with what we're seeing. Did we lose anyone?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Two of our bombers fell behind and were easy pickings for the interceptors."
"Well shit, I guess there's only thirty four of us now… Hey uhh, Denny, you got any news from our escorts?"
"Nope, they've been on radio silence since before we even took off! I don't think they're coming," his sister answered.
"You do realize that increases the chances of us getting shot down, you know?"
The young woman sighed, "I know, just… don't jinx it alright? I don't feel like dying today."
"Uhh, guys!? The Raidens are coming back! 10 o'clock high, there's still six of 'em!" Doyle reported.
"This is Liberty III, we have hostiles to our 3 o'clock and 2 o'clock! There's… twenty one of them!" another report from Lindell came right after.
"A whole squadron…" Allen turned to his sister, "You know what that means, right?"
"Umm, they're... getting desperate?" she took a guess.
"That, or they really want us dead."
And before the pair knew it, an A6M Zero had whizzed past their B-17, dodging every shot the gunners fired at it.
Once he got a closer look, Allen noticed the symbol on its fuselage: a stylized symbol of a quince flower.
"Oh great, we have an Ace in the sky people." he declared in a quite jaded manner. "It's Tatsuki Oshida and his Tengu Squadron. Watch out, they're pretty fast."
"Sir, we have one coming right for us!" Doyle yelled as he opened fire at their attacker. He was barely heard by both the pilot and co-pilot.
That was why when Allen looked ahead of where he was flying, he failed to see the approaching Ki 43 which barreled towards his plane at lightning speed. It was so fast in fact that Kenji couldn't even hit it.
"Oh shit!" the captain realized what was happening and pulled up at the last second to avoid a mid-air collision.
That fighter would've been an easy target for Michael but he didn't fire. Instead, Tobias did. None of his shots hit though but that was pretty expected of him.
"Crazy fucking bastard!" Allen cursed. Then all of a sudden he heard a loud explosion; so did his crew.
They turned to the noise and saw a giant fireball to their left, quickly descending into the Earth like a meteor.
"Our lower left wingman is gone sir!" reported his other wingman.
"Holy crap, the guy behind us is going down too!" Tobias exclaimed. "Dude got outright demolishedby those fighters, they didn't even give him a fair chance!"
"Toby, keep shooting!"
"Oh uh, a-aye aye sir!"
All of the chaos was transpiring behind the B-17, leaving no targets for Kenji to fire at. He desperately wished for another shot at one of those interceptors, yet his current position couldn't offer him such desires.
That was, until Lindell reported, "It's Oshida! He's coming right after you, Captain! 12 o'clock!"
"Wha- open fire!"
Kenji tensed up as he knew this was now a life or death situation. He grabbed the controls of the chin turret with haste and proceeded to fire at the attacking plane. The Zero retaliated with a spray of gunfire which hit the cockpit, most likely injuring one of the pilots or both.
The Zero then banked right once it got enough hits in and hightailed it out of there. It didn't come out unscathed though as the nose and dorsal guns of the B-17 managed to get a couple of hits in, enough to significantly damage the fighter.
The once-graceful A6M Zero was now a flying wreck with its white hull riddled with bullet holes and its engine barely working. The flying ace Tatsuki Oshida had gotten reckless and his prize was a one-way ticket to the ground.
"I got him! He's smoking!" Kenji exclaimed.
The Captain praised him with pained breath. "Y-Yeah! Good… Good shit, Kenji!"
"Uhh, Captain? Are you okay?"
"Yeah it's… it's nothing! I just… lost a finger or two."
"This idiot tried to block a bullet with his hand..." his sister interjected.
"It's fine! I said it's fine! I can still fly so no one has to worry about anything. But hey, we just shot a plane down! That's a cause for celebration if I've ever seen one! That adds another one to our kill count of six!"
"Here's hoping for more!" Eden exclaimed, to which her crewmen yelled, "Oorah!"
"Oorah?" Allen chuckled, "What is this, the Marine Corps?"
The smiles and laughter were suddenly cut short, when a Ki 43 suddenly rammed itself into a B-17 which flew slightly above Allen's plane. Its crew bailed out as it fell from the sky.
"Holy fu- they rammed it!" yelled Varley.
"That's Chi-Ha-Tan for ya," replied the captain, "They have a tendency to crash their planes into their enemies no matter the type. It's sorta their gimmick. Those guys didn't stand a chance against it but at least they're alive. Pay your respects boys!"
The whole aircrew then took a moment of silence as gunfire roared throughout the skies. After that, the gunners resumed firing.
Sometime later, Lindell came with a report. "Captain, the Maverick's falling behind. They'll be easy targets for the interceptors so should we help them?"
"And how would we go about that, Lindell? You expect me to turn this B-17 around? That's their problem, not ours. It's too late to help them out anyways. Two of their engines are up in smoke so they're as good as dead at this point."
His wingman gave a disappointed sigh, "You're right… Well, let's carry on then."
"Holy crap, those Ki 43's are tearing them up!" Tobias exclaimed feverishly like a child.
Like sharks smelling blood in the water, the Japanese fighters swarmed the helpless B-17.
All seemed to be over for the Maverick when suddenly, one of the attacking Ki 43's caught on fire before its wings were torn off. The other fighters circling the Maverick like flies on a corpse quickly scattered, and before everyone knew it, a flight of six P-51 Mustangs appeared. Though they couldn't save the Maverick - since it still crashed - they could at least prevent something like that from happening again.
"Hey, they're here! Our escorts are here!" Tobias shouted with glee.
"About fucking time!" said Allen, "I thought we were gonna be flying solo for the rest of the trip."
The interceptors quickly retreated at their arrival. The escorts didn't let this chance slide though so they gave chase. All but one of them. The flight leader flew up to Allen's B-17 to talk to the man in charge.
"Hey buddy! Long time no see!" the Mustang pilot greeted, waving hello as he did.
"Yo John! Great to see ya!"
"Likewise, Al! So, how's the day going? You shoot down any planes yet?"
"It's going pretty decent," he shrugged, "And yeah, we did shoot a certain someone down today. Who would've guessed?"
"Ah, a nice new head to hang on your wall. Haven't gotten one of those in a while, have ya? So who is it this time?"
Allen paused for a second since a Ki 43 flew past them, followed by a Mustang in hot pursuit. "If you would've been here a few minutes earlier, you would've seen it yourself! We took down none other than Tatsuki Oshida himself!"
John rolled his eyes at this. "Pfft, yeah right! Four other bomber pilots told me the same thing!"
"Well, it's for real this time, John! And I don't care whether you believe it or not!"
"Hmm, alright then, so who's the lucky shooter?" John asked with a hint of doubt.
"Our new nose gunner-"
Suddenly, John performed some evasive maneuvers to evade an attacking Zero. Most of the hits he dodged ended up hitting the B-17 instead. The shots landed in the radio operator's compartment where Varley sat. Thankfully, that part of the plane was carbon coated.
"So you were saying?" John asked after he was done dodging.
"Ahem… As I said, the new guy, Kenji here, has the honor of being the nose gunner who shot down a flying ace. Say hi, new guy!"
"Umm, hey."
"Wassup, fresh meat! Which hood in the George Washington did Allen drag you up from?"
"This guy ain't no hood rat, John. He's a fighter pilot just like you! Well, he used to be, but you get the point."
"A fighter?! Pfft, hahaha! You sure do know how to make me laugh, Al! Did you smoke any narcotics before you took off or something?"
Allen didn't reply, he just stared at John from his window with a straight face.
"G-shit?" the Mustang pilot asked.
"G-shit my boy," Allen replied. "We got Kenji Suruga himself, on deck! From the 9th Fighter Squadron, represent!"
"Damn, for real? So you got the guy who crashed his plane because he couldn't handle six G's inside your bomber!? That's great news! It means you'll actually get to shoot a few planes down for once. Good luck with that!" and with that, John left to pursue one of the enemy fighters.
"You too, John!" Allen said before letting go of the steering wheel. He took off his officer's hat and wiped the sweat off his brow. He then let out a sigh of relief, "There goes the first wave… Our escorts will handle it from here now…" then he saw a Ki 43 approaching them from the side. "Oh shit, shoot him!"
The waist gunner immediately opened fire, though none of his shots hit. None of the fighter's did either and all it did in the end was just spook the aircrew. It was shot down seconds later by a P-51.
"Alright then," Allen let out another sigh of relief. "You guys should take a rest but don't lower your guard either! Everyone saw what just happened there, right? Even though we have these escorts here to hold our hands, we can't depend on them entirely to keep our bombers airborne. Captain out."
As the minutes passed by and the dogfights between the P-51's and Zeroes raged on in the background, Allen got a message from Varley through the intercom. "Sir, all of the interceptors have pulled back. Our escorts managed to shoot down twelve of them."
This was great news for the bomber squadron. It means they don't have to worry about fighters for a while.
"Hey, you heard that, John? Varley says your boys drove away the opposition."
"Of course they would!" exclaimed John in a snobby manner. "I expect nothing less from the Flying Foxes, ain't that right boys?"
"We lost three of our fighters, sir." replied one of his wingmen.
"I said ain't that right boys?!"
"Y-Yes sir!" they all responded at the same time.
"Alright… Now Allen, I'll see ya in a bit. Gotta patrol the airspace and whatnot. Don't get shot down alright? You still owe me that five dollars!" John said in a commanding tone.
Allen yelled, "That was five years ago, John! You should pay your debt to me instead! Captain out."
Now that the fighters were gone, Allen and his aircrew were free to unwind.
The captain leaned back against his chair and took a deep breath. "Jeeesus that was stressful!" he exclaimed, his eyes staring at the ceiling.
"Right on, bro…" replied Eden, who was just as worn out as her brother, "I thought my heart was gonna jump out on multiple occasions..."
"I just wanna get this over with!" the captain whined, running his hands across his sweaty face. He then asked his navigator, "Merritt, how far are we to the target?"
She quickly responded, "Alright, hold on… it'll take at least thirty minutes before we reach the coast, Captain. And ten more to reach the bombing target."
"Well, let's just hope no more bullshit happens 'til then… Hey Kenji!"
"U-Uh, yeah?"
"You've proven to us that you are ready to put your life in the line for the survival of this B-17, and to that, I thank you. You know, you could've bailed out at any moment you liked, yet you stayed with us! Tell you what, if we manage to survive this bombing raid, we'll host a grand party just for you! It's the least we can do for someone who shot down a flying ace!"
Tobias protested against this, saying, "Do we really have to do this, Cap? We're strapped enough for cash as it is!"
"Of course we do! He gave us another kill! Plus, it can be his initiation party at the same time so we can save funds."
"Smart," Eden remarked with a smile.
"Anyways, could ya give me some breathing room, sis? We just narrowly escaped certain death with that last encounter. I'd rather not pass out in mid-air, thank you." The captain asked hee. He sounded like he was about to drop dead at any moment. He then told his aircrew, "You guys can take a little rest too. I'm pretty sure your ears are ringing from that constant firing."
"Sure, Captain, I'll probably rest my eyes for a bit," Kenji replied. A few seconds later and the B-17 aircrew regressed into silence.
Kenji could only hear the plane's low buzzing engines once again. No more gunshots, no more screams of the panicked airmen, no more fighters zipping about. Just the sound of peace and quiet. And it stayed that way for quite some time.
16:12 P.M...
As the bomber formation neared ever closer to their target, nothing much of late has happened. Sure, the P-51's would pass by now and then, but they only served as mere distractions.
All was well in the 204th Bomber Squadron. St. Gloriana, Saunders' partner in this joint operation, had also linked up with them at this point in time. Their arsenal consisted of only six bombers. Four Avro Lancasters and two B-24 Liberators.
They made up for their lack of bombers by having a flight of five Supermarine Spitfires, all of which were crewed by St. Glo's most skillful pilots, and one Gloster Meteor which was crewed by a flying ace.
"Hey, Austin!" Allen greeted the British squadron leader who flew in formation to the lower left of his plane. "You get it on with Darjeeling yet?"
"Wha- Melville, I'm Arnold, not Austin! And what's with that outrageous question?!" he exclaimed, understandably shocked.
"Oh, sup Arnold! Didn't know you're the leader now… So, has Austin done it with Darjeeling yet?"
"No, I'm afraid he can't since he's six feet underground. He left us two weeks ago in a freak accident. Didn't you hear about it?"
"Damn, really? Well I'm gonna miss that kid. He was so full of life, ya know? I loved that guy's energy."
"Well, I for one, did not. That boorish manchild was ruining the reputation of the 5th Gloriana Bomber Squadron. To tell you the truth, I'm glad he's gone. At least we could finally get some semblance of class in this squadron again."
"Oh come on man, don't be so harsh on the kid. He didn't do you any wrong did he?"
"I didn't despise him personally, but the whole squadron did. He didn't belong here. Let me ask you this, Allen: if a man who's too young to be flying a bomber, too inexperienced to man one of the guns, and too doltish to know how to work the radio or fix your plane when damaged is let into your crew, what would you do about him?"
"Eh… well, I'd just put him in the belly gun," he answered with a shrug.
"Precisely. Austin was exactly that type of person. The only reason he was here in the first place was because he was well-endowed and Darjeeling liked him; I'm not even sure if that last part is true. I'm not one to gossip, but I heard she was only spending time with him out of pity because he was unpopular, you know?"
Then suddenly, John spoke, "You boys done bickering with each other? Good, because we got bandits coming our way."
Hearing this, Arnold said, "I suppose it's a topic for another time, Allen. Godspeed to you."
"To you too, my guy!" the captain bid his farewell.
And so, the break was over and a new squadron of planes have come to terrorize the bombers. But now they have fighters on their side to protect them, meaning they have an actual chance this time.
The lightning fast Japanese warplanes were now replaced by the ominous black steel birds of Germany. It looked like Chi-Ha-Tan threw in the towel, and Kuromorimine now had to stop the flying fortresses by themselves.
Allen saw the Meteor pass by his B-17 so he asked Arnold curiously, "Hey, where the hell'd you get a damn fighter jet? Last I remembered, the Federation only supplies college teams with them."
"Well it's pretty simple, dear friend. My parents bought them for me," he replied without an ounce of shame like Allen expected.
The captain rolled his eyes at this, "Ah right. I forgot I was working with a trust fund baby… You better put that guy to good use then."
"You don't have to remind me about that, Melville. I've assigned one of my most trusted pilots to handle the job."
"Who is it then? Henry? Arthur? Or maybe it's that Adger guy?"
"It's Harry Adger, yes. He's been with me since my junior days. We've been at each other's side ever since we earned our wings. He's also proven himself to be an effective fighter."
"You bet I am, Arnie!"
"Better hope he doesn't turn into another one of your freak accidents then," said Allen.
"He's a far smarter pilot than Austin so I'm not concerned."
Harry realized the Americans had escorts of their own, so he exclaimed, "Oh snap! looks like the Flying Foxes are here too! How're you doing, John!"
"Wassup, Harry," the Mustang pilot responded.
"You two know each other?" Allen asked.
"We fly together on every mission, Allen, of course we know each other."
"Make sure to leave some enemy fighters for me, old chap!"
"Yeah, whatever, do what you want I guess."
"Adger, focus on the fighters. You can banter with the yankee later," Arnold ordered.
"Oh, of course sir! Adger out."
"I kinda envy you, Arnold. Your boy's an obedient one. John on the other hand…"
The Englishman was about to respond, but a Bf 110 flew past his Lancaster and caught his surprise.
"Good lord!" he yelled in surprise, "W-Well, it's best we talk later, Melville. We have business to attend to after all."
"Probably for the best, Allen out."
The two went on radio silence afterwards and focused on the incoming fighters who flew past the hulking bombers in a flash, shooting bursts of gunfire as they went.
One Bf 109 attacked Allen's bomber from below, the only one able to stop him being Michael in the belly gun. But when the captain ordered him to shoot it, Michael never complied, nor did he fire. The B-17 juddered as bullets impacted the underside of its hull. No major damage was inflicted, except for the ball turret.
"Michael, you dumbass! Why didn't you fire?!" Allen angrily yelled.
But there was no response.
"Goddammit, Michael, if you don't respond now, I'm kicking you off this plane! I'm serious here!"
Still, no response.
"Fucking hell... Denny, retract the ball gun. Toby, you go pull his ass out of there!"
"Gotcha, Cap!" replied the tail gunner.
Eden then told him, "I can't retract the ball gun, Al! It's stuck!"
The captain sighed in annoyance as another German plane whizzed past them. "He better have a good explanation if we get down!"
"Um, Melville, you do know your belly gunner is dead right?" said Arnold.
Allen wasn't shocked by this revelation however. "Wait, he is?"
"Your ball turret looks like it was cut in half, of course he's dead."
The captain sighed, "I guess we're undercrewed again…"
"Wait… the ball gunner died?!" Kenji exclaimed.
Then Merritt told him, "It's pretty common, Kenji. The life expectancy of a ball turret gunner's thirty seven seconds after all. There's also the fact that we don't have carbon armor on the turret itself; you know, what with the cutting corners part."
"She's called the Widowmaker for a reason, Ken," Eden said.
Kenji injured a passing Bf 110 with a burst of fire before replying, "I didn't know this plane had a name."
"Every good bomber's gotta have one. You gotta stick out somehow in this squadron, you know."
Allen suddenly yelled, "Someone's coming after us, watch out!"
Kenji snapped to action. He saw a Bf 109 coming right towards them. He waited until it was in range. And just before the fighter could fire, he did first. He scored a direct hit on the fighter as it burst into flames and crashed down into the Earth.
The aircrew cheered as another kill was added to their tally.
"You're unnatural at this, Kenji!" the captain once again praised him.
"Yeah, but that wasn't the only 109 they've got," Eden added.
Ten grueling minutes then passed as the German planes continued their relentless attacks on the bomber formation, using boom and zoom tactics to minimize their chances of getting hit by the gunners; and it worked. St. Gloriana's two Liberators fell as well as seven of Saunders' B-17's as a result of their lightning fast attacks.
It wasn't a one-sided battle though as the fighters scored kills themselves. The Flying Foxes downed five Bf 110s but unfortunately lost three of their Mustangs in the process. St. Gloriana's flight of Spitfires and a Meteor were untouched as well. The Spitfires managed to shoot down six Bf 109s but the Meteor did not inflict any damage at all. He was either too fast and couldn't get a hit, or too hard to maneuver to at least aim the guns at the enemy.
As the battle in the sky raged on, Doyle began to notice a pair of contrails above him. At first they seemed to just be from a commercial airliner, but upon closer inspection, the trails of smoke were emanating from two fast-moving aircraft which were the size of specks from his perspective.
The dorsal gunner got suspicious of this pair of bogeys so he asked his captain, "Hey, commercial planes aren't allowed to enter a Hikokidō match's airspace right?"
"What?"
"I said aren't-"
"No, I heard you loud and clear! Yeah, airliners aren't allowed in our airspace, it's for safety purposes. Why do you ask?"
"Well there's-" a P-51 then suddenly across past the bomber's cockpit, almost colliding with the aircraft.
This prompted Allen to shout in a botched Italian accent, "Hey, I'm flyin' here! Watch where you're going, bozo!"
Just as he said that, the fighter was shot down - weirdly enough - from above.
Everyone aboard flinched at the ear-piercing explosion that came after. Immediately after that, a jet aircraft of some sort flew past the B-17 and disappeared out of sight as quickly as it appeared.
"Wh-What the hell was that?!" Tobias yelled.
Then John came in with a transmission. "Allen, watch out! They've got two Komets!"
"What?!" he yelled before frantically looking around for any signs of the jet aircraft.
"Yeah, I dunno where they got their jets either! Seems like Arnold's not the only trust fund kid in this business!"
"I heard that! Now what are you blokes blabbering about? I thought we agreed to keep radio silence?"
"Kuromorimine's got jets, dumbass! Send your useless Meteor on em, I'm pulling out!" responded John.
"Hey! Where the hell are you going?!" Eden yelled.
"Where else? Away from you crazy bastards! We've lost enough Mustangs. I'm not crashing my six thousand dollar ride protecting you idiots!"
"You coward, get the hell back here!" she once again yelled, but John had already cut communication. She could only watch as the last two Mustangs of the Flying Foxes squadron disappeared into the clouds, never to be seen again.
"Goddammit, there goes our escort… There's still fourteen of us though and we're less than an hour from the target so hopefully, we don't get any casualties!"
Just then, the Komets struck again. A B-17 which flew just behind Allen's plane had its right wing clipped after being shot. Another below him exploded in mid-air due to the engine leaking fuel.
"There's still… twelve of us…" he said rather disappointingly. Allen then glanced over at his upper right wingman. Thankfully, he was still fine. One of their engines wasn't running anymore but at least they were still airborne.
"Arnold, could you get your stupid jet fighter over here already, we're no match for these guys!" Eden demanded.
"Adger's still busy with the 110's, thanks to Cassady pussying out. So I suggest we wait," he replied calmly.
"There's no time for waiting, asshat!"
"Um, Skipper? I regret to inform you that one of our Spitfires has been downed!" one of the escort pilots reported, "Should we pull out of the fight? I hear you're having trouble back there."
"Goddammit…" Arnold cursed under his breath before issuing a reply, "Affirmative. Get your arses back here now, we have a Komet problem."
"Komets?! That's a load of cobblers! Only professional pilots use them!"
"Well, Kuromorimine pilots are more skilled than I thought. Now get over here before another one of us gets shot down." just then, Arnold heard a loud explosion so he turned to his left. Lo and behold, one of his Lancasters was engulfed in flames. "Cor blimey, my wingman's gone!"
"Alright, alright, don't freak out. We're coming over!" said the pilot.
"Uhh, Arnold? You should probably get your guns ready, I see one of them heading straight towards you."
"What?" he looked up and his heart immediately dropped. The Komet was approaching them in a dive.
Arnold's dorsal gunner panicked for a split second before aiming at it. Once he felt it was close enough, the dorsal gunner opened fire with everything he got. The Komet then fired a burst of shots, dodging every shot the gunner threw at it, before disappearing into the clouds in the blink of an eye.
"Engine 2's hit! Blast it!" Arnold cursed, "We might not make it out in one piece, Melville. You and your boys are gonna have to do this on your own!"
"What? Come on, Arnold, don't pussy out! It's only one engine, I'm sure you can still stay airborne!" the captain pleaded with him to stay.
Then out of the blue, the Komet reappeared. It lined up behind the Lancaster, ready to fire at any moment. There was no dodging this. The bomber couldn't just do a barrel roll after all.
"Wilson, fire at the damn thing!" Arnold yelled at his tail gunner.
"Th-The gun's jammed, Skipper! I can't fire!"
But just before the Komet could fire, it was hit by a flurry of shots before it lost its left wing. Seconds later, a Spitfire emerged from the clouds behind the Lancaster.
The British aircrew rejoiced as their lives were saved by the lone fighter.
"Looks like your boys came in clutch," Allen remarked, "It's a good thing he didn't miss too."
The skipper chuckled with a hint of pride in his voice. "St. Gloriana's gunners are famed for their patience and precision. What did you expect?"
But the battle wasn't over yet. "Bandit! 9 o' clock low!" Allen's waist gunner yelled as the other Komet appeared out of the clouds and headed straight towards the B-17.
It was too risky for the waist gunner to fire at it since he knew that there was a possibility of him being hurt, just like his late partner. So he got down and covered his head.
The bullets pierced through the bomber's armor, narrowly missing the waist gunner. The jet sped away right after, but this time it did not escape. St. Gloriana's Meteor appeared out of the blue and quickly took its German adversary out, doing a barrel roll right after to assert dominance.
"Woo-hoo! I knew I could do it! Yeah!" Harry yelled. The B-17 aircrew could see the pilot waving his hands around inside the cockpit.
"Nicely done, Adger!" Arnold applauded him.
Then Allen realized the Meteor was on a collision course toward his wingman's B-17. Harry didn't steer clear of it since he was too busy celebrating.
"Ayo watch your jet bruh! Watch your jet bruh! WATCH YOUR JE-"
Bam! The jet collided with the B-17, slicing through its fuselage, cutting it in half. The Meteor clipped its left wing as a result.
The two aircraft plummeted into the ground in multiple pieces. Whether the pilots and crew survived is unknown.
"Th-That Meteor just crashed into our wingman! What the fuck, Arnold?!" the captain, who was feeling a mix of shock and anger, yelled.
"I-I did not know what happened! A-Adger must've… must've lost control!"
"Yeah well, either way, you owe me for that B-17. That thing cost a fortune to build, ya know!"
The Englishman sighed, "Fine, I accept. Two thousand's not a hefty price for me anyways. I am truly sorry about your wingman though. I'm sure he's unharmed."
"I don't need your sympathy, Arnold, I've lost fifteen wingmen at this point. This doesn't phase me. Just make sure you pay that bill by the end of the month or I'm slapping the shit out of you!"
"It's a deal."
"Land ho!" one of the Lancaster pilots interjected.
Allen and Arnold looked ahead and there it was, the island of Kyushu. It was but a stone's throw away.
There were no fighters in sight. It seemed like their adversaries had given up so the escorts retreated, both because they were of no use anymore and because they were running low on fuel.
The eleven B-17 aircrews, and the four Lancaster crews as well, rejoiced at the sight of land. Their mission was nearly over.
Kenji let go of the chin turret controls and nearly collapsed on the floor. He leaned on the wall and looked at his hands. They were shaking intensely. They felt numb. They felt as if they were about to fall off. The gunner's attention was then turned to his bandaged shoulder.
To think that this could've been blown off… What a crazy day... he thought as relief washed over him.
He rested there for a good minute before the navigator woke him up. "Hey Kenji, go hide in the radio compartment. The bombing's about to start. Captain's orders."
He took a second to reply, "R-Right, I'll be right over," before standing up, shaking Merritt's hand, and staggering his way to the back of the aircraft.
He passed the bomb bay, which was thankfully undamaged, before arriving at the radio compartment where Varley was. The radioman was so focused on his job that he flinched at the sight of Kenji standing over him. "Whoa hey, you're here. Go ahead and sit down on the floor, our mission's almost over. Oh, and don't worry. This is one of the few parts of the plane that has carbon coating. No one's gonna blow your head off here."
"Alright…" he simply replied before sitting on the floor. Varley then handed him a Sony Walkman.
"Our target may be ten minutes away, but it'll feel like an hour to get there. So take this, it'll alleviate the boredom"
"Oh uh… thank you," Kenji then removed his headphones and replaced them with the Walkman's earphones.
"I put a special mixtape in there just for this occasion, you know? It's best to hit play when the flak arrives."
"Hmm, alright then, sounds simple enough- wait, what do you mean flak?!"
Suddenly, flak began to bloom in the sky, violently shaking the B-17. "Speak of the Devil…" said Varley before turning to Kenji, "Well, what're you waiting for?"
Without further ado, Kenji pressed play on the Walkman and the song "California Dreamin'" by the Mama's and Papa's began to play.
As the band began their song, Allen announced with excitement, "Alright boys! We are at the final phase of our trip! This is also gonna be the hardest part for me, since I gotta dodge flak so I recommend y'all hold on to something. Captain out!"
After that, Kenji saw as everyone aboard the plane, save for the navigator and the two pilots, hurried into the safety of the radio compartment.
"Jeez it is cramped in here!" Tobias complained.
"Well if you lost some weight, we wouldn't be squeezing against each other here!" replied Doyle.
"Hey! I'm not fat-" the tail gunner was cut off, as another close explosion shook the plane. They all decided to keep quiet after.
The next few minutes that passed consisted of nothing but flak fire and the aircrew praying they won't get hit. Up on the cockpit, the two siblings did their best to maneuver their heavy bomber out of harm's way. So far, they haven't been hit.
The story was different for the others though. One B-17 was hit in the right wing. Its engine blew up and the aircraft descended into the Earth. Two of the Lancasters were also taken down by flak fire, leaving Arnold's plane as the only one from St. Gloriana's force.
"O-Oh dear…" the skipper said in a shaky voice. "It… seems like we were not prepared enough to tackle a task such as this. I do wished for us to at least drop a few bombs but alas… I leave everything to you, Melville. Lead us to victory! Goodbye-"
BOOM! Arnold's Lancaster was hit with flak and promptly burst into flames. The crew bailed out ten seconds after.
"Arnold! Shit, he's down!" Allen exclaimed, observing the ball of fire below his plane.
"It's only us now, bro," said Eden. "We can't lose anymore bombers. There's still ten of us so we can still make an impact, hopefully."
"You're…" Allen stared at his flight controls for a moment before turning to his sister, "You're right. We can do this!"
But then, a shell from a flak gun burst right in front of the cockpit, shattering its windows and giving the captain a faceful of glass shards. Luckily, Allen was turned away from the window so he only injured half of his face and thankfully, none of his eyes.
The captain immediately fainted after this. He hit the steering wheel on his way to the floor, causing the B-17 to bank on its side.
"Allen!" Eden yelled before returning the bomber to its original position. She then set the plane on autopilot to come to his brother's aid.
The co-pilot dragged Allen to the radio compartment and everyone gasped upon seeing him injured.
"What happened?" Varley asked, keeping a level head.
"Window broke on his face. Can you fix it?"
"I can," he answered, "But who'll fly the plane?"
"I'm the friggin' co-pilot, of course I will!"
"Oh uh, goo- good luck then!"
Eden nodded before hurrying back to the cockpit. This time, she sat on Allen's seat and took full control of the plane. She nudged up on the flight stick to gain altitude but it didn't seem like she could escape the flak. Then another round hit them, this time on the fuselage. A hole was punched through where the waist guns should be.
Back in the radio compartment, the aircrew were struggling to deal with their injured captain. Due to the B-17 shaking so much, Varley had difficulty pulling each and every glass shard Allen had lodged in the left part of his face.
The air was getting colder as well since the cold autumn wind was seeping into the B-17 through the holes left by flak.
All while this chaos was happening, the song in Kenji's Walkman changed into "Run Through The Jungle" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.
The flight through the perilous field of flak continued. Thankfully, none of the B-17's were getting hit. None except the Widowmaker. It had sustained another injury on its left wing. One of the engines was smoking and the other was no longer operational. Still, the aircraft carried on, only this time, much slower.
"Looks like we got a hole in our left wing!" Tobias remarked.
"Ain't that pretty obvious, dumbass?" replied Doyle.
"Jesus Christ, how long is this ride?!" Eden yelled in anger, to which everyone snapped to silence. "Can we just get there already?! We're gonna crash at this point!"
"We're three minutes away, ma'am!" replied Merritt.
Then all of a sudden, a Bf 109 appeared though it didn't appear as hostile. "Doyle, get up here quick!" the co-pilot ordered after seeing it.
The engineer and dorsal gunner quickly mounted his gun and trained it on the German fighter.
"Wh-What's he doing, ma'am!?"
Eden could see the Kuromorimine pilot signaling them to land. Perhaps he had realized they did not have any carbon armor so he decided to help them get down.
The co-pilot wasn't having any of it however. "Who the hell does he think we are? Ye Olde Pub?! Doyle, shoot that bitch down!"
"Roger!" he then immediately opened fire at the Bf 109. The pilot, being caught in surprise, was unable to dodge the incoming hits and so crashed to the ground.
"What a friggin' idiot! At least we got another one."
"Ma'am! The targets are in sight! Opening bomb bay doors!" Merritt, now the bombardier, reported.
"Thank God! I'm ready to pull out whenever!"
The target was a large hill in the middle of a field where Chi-Ha-Tan and Kuromorimine's tank dug themselves in. It acted like a fortress made of dirt. Scattered around the landmass were many trench lines where the joint force of Saunders and St. Gloriana lay in wait.
"You sure this is the right hill, Merritt?" Eden asked.
"Well, there's gunfire coming from it and they're directed at the trenches so yeah… definitely our target."
The bombardier waited until the hill was in her bombsights, then she finally dropped the payload. "Bombs away! Bombs away!" Merritt yelled as the 500kg bombs whistled their way towards the ground.
The other ten B-17s also released their bombs onto the hill.
"Alright, that's it! We're going home boys!" Eden yelled before she turned the aircraft around and headed home. The other bombers followed suit but two of them were shot down by flak before they could get away.
When the bombs made impact, Tobias rushed to the tail to observe the damage. His eyes grew wide at the sight of what once was their target. The hill had been reduced to atoms. There was no way a platoon of tanks would survive that.
The aircrew rejoiced, knowing their job here was done.
With everything over, the remaining gunners - save for Tobias who was unphased - as well as the radioman and navigator, all collapsed due to fatigue.
"I ain't never doing anything like this again bro…" groaned Sammy.
"Same," replied the others.
"So… how ya feeling, Ken?" Eden asked after everything had calmed down.
"I feel like my arms are about to fall off… You guys really do this all the time?"
"Well, yeah but the usual missions aren't as intense as this. Why do you ask?"
"'Cause I can't imagine myself surviving after two flights…"
"You'll get used to it eventually dude. That's just the nature of the business. Pretty soon you'll grow numb to it all; like Allen over there. How's he doing, Varley?"
"He's doing fine, ma'am. Thankfully, none of the glass got to his eyes. He'll be piloting the Widowmaker in no time."
"Good to hear!"
All this time, while everyone was laying on the ground like ragdolls and while the pilot did nothing but space out while listening to music from Varley's Walkman, they failed to notice one glaring issue with their B-17: its engines.
That's why, when two of them decided it was time to give up, Eden was quite surprised. "What?" was her first reaction. She looked to her left and saw that both engines on her wing were inoperable.
A wave of dread hit the young co-pilot. She was going to have to crashland this bomber.
A Federation-licensed B-17 would normally be easy to land. But this wasn't a Federation-licensed B-17, it's a Great Value one, meaning there was a good chance they would die if given the chance.
They couldn't just bail out either. The last person who did so turned into a pancake on his way down, due to a faulty parachute. So none of them are to be trusted.
Taking a deep breath, Eden readied herself for the hardest challenge of her life. "Everyone assume positions!" she ordered. Meanwhile Varley sent out a distress call via the radio.
Merritt carefully made her way from the nose to the radio compartment while Tobias straight up booked it. Once everyone was there, they all braced.
As the B-17 was quickly losing altitude, Allen found it as the right time to wake up.
"Wah! Where am I?!" he exclaimed after jolting awake.
"Captain, brace for impact!" Varley yelled.
"What?! What's happening?!"
"We're crash landing, Al! Now brace!" and he quickly did.
The ground was now clearly visible to Eden. From the looks of it, they were fast approaching a tree line. "Are you kidding me?!" the co-pilot cursed before letting go of the steering wheel and bracing for impact.
Eventually, the aircraft finally touched land, burrowing into the ground as it gradually slowed down. The B-17 then hit the tree line, clipping both its wings in the process and finally coming to a stop once it hit a tree.
Eden and everyone else was fortunately unharmed, save for a few bruises and scratches.
Immediately, Allen gathered whatever strength was left in him and stood up. He then rushed to the cockpit to check on his sister.
Eden was sitting there, her face black from smoke. Between her coughing was laughter. Laughter that she somehow couldn't control.
"Eden! Thank God you're alive!" Allen hugged her sister tightly. "Wh-What the hell are you laughing for?"
"That was so fucking wild dude! We… We…" she replied before laughing even harder.
The captain settled down after this. At least she's fine… he thought before fainting yet again on the spot.
Meanwhile, the others had already exited the B-17 via the large hole in the fuselage left by flak.
Doyle stared solemnly at the broken metal bird. "There goes our fifty-dollar Flying Fortress… We had some fun times inside it, didn't we boys?"
Everyone except Kenji agreed before they all walked over to different trees and sat there to rest.
The ex-fighter pilot sat against the B-17's hull. He stared aimlessly at the dusk sky for a few minutes before deciding to add another entry to his journal.
September 27, 2012
6:43 P.M
I've finished my first mission aboard a B-17. It was… interesting to say the least.
Right now I'm stuck in the middle of a field waiting for rescue to come because we crash landed our plane.
I guess my superiors weren't lying when they said this would be hard. I never expected Chi-Ha-Tan and Kuromorimine to display this much ferocity. I didn't expect my aircrew to be this relentless at fighting either. These airmen are truly the bravest individuals I ever got the chance of meeting.
I'm probably going to be stuck in this squadron for the foreseeable future. But if I'm gonna be stuck with these guys, then it probably wouldn't be as bad as it sounds. Right?