AUTHOR'S NOTES: Time for some more air combat, and the introductions to Indigo and Bronze Flight. Whew, RWBY has a lot of characters. Hard matching these people up to aircraft. Also, my search history includes a lot of "foreign cuss words."

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Yooper Air Combat Range

Upper Michigan Peninsula, United States of Canada

9 May 2001

Jaune Arc felt his heart hammering in his chest as the Range Controller called "Fight's on!" It wasn't a real fight, and barring flying himself into the ground or a midair collision, he wasn't going to actually die in it, but it scared him for some reason. He wasn't sure why—it might be he had time to think over and plan this fight out, whereas the fight over La Crosse had happened so quickly he hadn't had time to think about it.

Still, it wasn't a bad plan. Off his right wing was Pyrrha Nikos' F-16, close enough that they would appear as one blip on Bronze Flight's radars. Well below them and to Jaune's left was Lie Ren's J-10 and Nora Valkyrie's A-10. Ren was setting himself up as bait, luring Bronze low, ceding the altitude advantage to Jaune and Pyrrha; if they got too low, in the weeds, that was where Nora ruled supreme. For this operation, the hard deck was waived: the hard deck was the ground. It added danger to the hop, but Goodwitch had informed them icily that it wasn't for the benefit of the camera: as they knew from actual combat, there was no artificial hard deck in real life.

Jaune tapped himself on the side of the helmet. He needed to get into the game. He glanced down at his radar scope. "Juniper, Jaune, I have three bandits in wall, bearing 094, angels 15, speed 500." Only three, he thought, there's another one out there somewhere. It was a classic fighter tactic: put three or four aircraft out front, leaving a trailer far to the rear or swinging out to one side, to catch the attacker unaware. "Ren, Nora: there's one more out there somewhere." Unlike the knife fight in a phone booth of Ruby versus Auburn with guns and heatseekers only, this battle included radar shots. "Pyr, let's take the guys on the right." He swung his Mirage out a little, locking onto the middle F-16. Since Bronze flew nothing but F-16s, at least he didn't have to wonder what he was facing.

"Pyrrha locked on rightmost bandit." Her radar was slightly superior to Jaune's.

"Jaune locked on. Fox Two!" He pressed the trigger. Were it real, of course, a missile would have shot off the rail and been on its way towards the target. Instead, the data pod that sat on the underwing rail transmitted a computer signal back to the computer at Beacon, that would then compute whether or not the "missile" hit. Pyrrha followed with her shot a second later. Jaune stayed with Pyrrha, waiting for Range Control, dividing his attention between the sky, his Heads-Up Display, and his radar.

Then his radar went berserk. The three bandits suddenly broke formation, crisscrossing each other and dropping chaff, which blanked out his radar, but not before Jaune noticed the rightmost target was going low. There was no call from Range Control, so Jaune knew his shot and Pyrrha's had been scored as a miss. "Ren, Jaune, watch it, one at your twelve o'clock high!"

"Pyrrha, tally-ho, two Vipers, eleven o'clock level!" Jaune saw the two F-16s curving towards them. "I'm spiked!"

"Break now, Pyrrha!" Jaune slammed the stick to the left as Pyrrha went right; there was no point in the close formation, now that Bronze Flight could see them.

Pyrrha involuntarily grunted as the G-suit squeezed her in the hard right break, then immediately reversed her turn. The screaming tone of a missile lock stopped, which meant she had broken the lock. As she rolled back into the merge, she heard "Brawnz, Fox Two on Pyrrha!"

"Skata," she murmured as she rolled and dived, popping flares. Another miss, but now the South Korean's F-16 was following her into the dive.

"Ren, Fox Two." The range had closed too fast for radar shots, and Ren had quickly shifted to his simulated Sidewinders. He accelerated, popping flares as he heard Nolan Porfirio, the Italian, also call out a Sidewinder shot. Both missed, and Ren went through the smoke of Nolan's flares as he broke left. He strained against the Gs to keep the F-16 in sight, cheating the turn tighter even as the Italian did the same, ending up in a circle over the forested hills of the Upper Peninsula.

"Nora, Fox Two!"

Nolan's F-16 suddenly made a hard break and climb, more flares in its wake. He had been watching Ren so intently that he hadn't noticed Nora's A-10 waiting in ambush below him. Ren saw the A-10 fly past; she didn't bother trying to follow the F-16 into the climb, leaving him for Ren. Nolan's F-16 was an ADF model, identical to Ruby's Crescent Rose, and couldn't quite match the engine power of the J-10. Ren began tracking for a rather easy Sidewinder kill.

Jaune, who had evaded a shot from Roy Stallion, the American, climbed and rolled out, trying to find Roy, who was there and gone in a flash. He spotted the F-16 climbing to meet him, but as Jaune turned into Roy, he caught a glint of sun off a canopy to his five o'clock low. "Ren!" he shouted. "Check six! Viper at your six!"

Ren instantly craned his head behind him, but too late, he realized that he himself was a target, and that Nolan had been dragging him. "Jian nu ren!" he cursed, because the next call was "May, Fox Three!"

Ren threw the J-10 into a flurry of dodges, breaking the lock, but as he rolled left, there was another call: "Nolan, Fox Two on Ren!" Once more, Ren tried to break, but this time he was a fraction too late.

"Ren is a mort," Range Control called out.

"Shit!" Nora shouted, as she watched Ren's J-10 level out and fly to the east; she knew him well enough that she could tell Ren was pissed, just by the way he flew. Then her own radar warning reciever went off, as the Italian F-16 dived on her, intent on collecting two scalps from Juniper. Nora put the nose down on the A-10, knowing she had no chance whatsoever of outrunning the F-16, but also knowing that Nolan was getting down into her territory. She listened for the tone of a lock-on. "Come on, come on," she chanted, dividing her attention between the ground—which was getting very close—and the mirrors set into the Warthog's canopy frame. Nolan wasn't stupid: he had pulled up and was letting her get into his gunsight, knowing that she was trapped between the forest and the Viper. Nora only grinned; school wasn't over yet.

The tone went solid, telling her she was locked. As Nolan got out "Nolan, Fox—" Nora stomped the left rudder and slammed the stick into her left knee hard enough to leave a bruise. At low level, the archaic straight wing of the A-10 was actually an advantage, and nothing could turn with it. Magnhild skidded, engines roaring, and Nolan suddenly found himself staring down the seven barrels of the A-10's GAU-8 Avenger. "Nora, guns, guns, guns on Nolan!" The Italian had been so stunned by the sudden turn that he hesitated a second too long.

"Range Control. Nolan is a mort."

"That's right, boiiiiie!" Nora sang out as she flew past the F-16. Nolan sighed and turned to follow Ren out of the exercise area, very glad that it was simulated.

Jaune cursed as he evaded another simulated missile shot. Roy Stallion was all over him, and worse, was herding him towards the hills, to try and trap him against the terrain. Jaune took a chance, firewalled the throttle and climbed, holding the climb for a long three seconds, then breaking off the climb and leveling off upside down. The American was slow to follow, giving Jaune a precious second or two to breathe. "Pyrrha, Jaune, scratch my back and I'll scratch yours!"

"Roger," she replied, puffing. Brawnz Ni might have a weird name, but she had learned he was also a very good pilot, aggressive and not giving her a second. Still, she could use that. She acclerated and climbed, then turned so Jaune could drop in.

Yet Bronze Flight was not playing by Jaune's rules. As he climbed towards Jaune, Roy suddenly broke off and dived, rolling out behind Pyrrha, who now had two F-16s on her tail; Jaune was out of position, and knew it. So did Brawnz and Roy.

Pyrrha saw the two F-16s in her peripheral vision. "Hmm," was the only reaction she gave, and then proved why she was called the Invincible Girl of Greece. Even more than before, she became a part of her own F-16 as if she was a weapon system built into it, feet constantly moving on the rudder pedals, hands on the throttle and stick lightly. She would dart in and out of her opponents' gunsights, never long enough for a good shot, always forcing them into near-impossible 90-degree deflection shots, then reversing into them, then climbing and diving. May Zedong, who was trying to angle for her specialty—the long-range missile shot—was screaming at Brawnz and Roy to clear so she could take the shot, but neither did, and not entirely because they wanted to be the one to get Pyrrha; it was also the fear that breaking off would make them a target. Both Brawnz and Roy made the cardinal sin of a fighter pilot: they lost situational awareness, too intent on their opponent.

And it nearly cost them their lives. "Brawnz, Roy!" May shouted. "Watch it!"

"Bronze, you're going to collide!" Jaune screamed.

At the last moment, Roy realized he was able to slide directly into Brawnz. "Jesus!" he yelled, and snapped upwards into a climb. Brawnz said something similar in Korean and dived; the two F-16s' tails missed each other by two feet, and Brawnz felt the F-16 shudder as it hit the jetwash of his wingman.

Jaune let out a breath in relief. Pyrrha, in the zone, never hesitated. She went into a shallow climb, settled her gunsight on Roy's glowing afterburner, and calmly called out, "Pyrrha, Fox Two on Roy."

May slammed her throttle forward in rage. She had been going slow, nearly at approach speed, trying to get her long-range shot. "Sha bi!" she screamed, locking onto Pyrrha, who was low on airspeed.

"Nora, guns on May!" May swung around in her cockpit, then began cursing herself. Sitting behind her F-16 as if it was a nice, sunny approach into Beacon, was Nora's A-10. She had crept up behind the F-16.

"Range Control. Vytal Flag, knock it off, knock it off." The range controller realized that the combat was getting a little too personal, a little too dangerous. Blood was up, and both sides were forgetting it was a simulation. "May is a mort. Juniper wins. All Vytal aircraft, RTB."

Jaune, who had remembered Blake Belladonna's words from a month ago—lie, cheat and steal in the cockpit; leave honor at home with your dress blues—had been tracking for an easy missile shot on Brawnz, but was happy to break it off. He joined up on Brawnz instead. "Brawnz, Jaune. You okay?"

"Yes," Brawnz replied, breathing heavy. "Thank you." He cursed, but Jaune realized that, like May, he was cursing himself for losing focus, not Jaune. "Congrats, Juniper. Good fight."

"Just glad you're all right." Jaune waggled his wings, then went to rejoin Pyrrha and Nora.

Jaune caught up with Pyrrha as she walked down the flightline. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hello," she smiled.

"You all right?"

Good question, Pyrrha thought to herself. It wasn't the fact that the exercise had nearly ended in disaster—it was hardly her fault that Brawnz Ni and Roy Stallion had forgotten to keep an eye on each other in their eagerness to get her—it was the fact that she had automatically put herself into position to "kill" Roy without even thinking. Of course, that was one of the reasons why she was such a superb fighter pilot, that she could do those actions below conscious thought, getting in front of her opponents mentally before they could even process the situation. It didn't help how she felt, though. Not for the first time, Pyrrha wondered if it was time to call it quits and leave the service. She was already leaving Greece.

They stopped by Nora's A-10, where she was gleefully recounting the battle to Ren and Sun Wukong. Nora was very happy, having gotten two kills over far superior opponents. The fact that the battle wasn't real didn't take away from her happiness.

Neptune Vasillas walked up to them. He was in flight gear as well. "Afternoon, Jaune—Pyrrha."

"Good afternoon," Pyrrha replied. "You're up next, are you not?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic," Jaune observed. Neptune sounded like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"We're slated to fight over Lake Michigan," Neptune said.

"And?"

"I don't like the water."

Pyrrha was taken aback. "But you're in the Navy!"

Neptune shrugged. "Let me rephrase that. I don't mind the water. I'm just afraid of drowning. Or freezing to death. It's why I never learned to swim. Figured I'd just go down like a rock and get it over with." He raised his right hand and saw it was shaking. "Dammit. Knew I should've joined the Air Force."

Jaune looked past him. "Whoa. Is that Indigo Flight?"

Neptune immediately brightened. "Yep. That's who we're up against." He pointed them out to Jaune. "Nebula Violette from your neck of the woods, Jaune; Dew Gayl from Israel, Gwen Darcy of the RAF, and Octavia Ember from the Royal Jordanian Air Force." He smiled at them as they walked past. "Ladies," he bowed.

They studiously ignored him, but then Gwen stopped. Her eyes got big, and she shyly waved. Neptune waved back, grinning, and then realized who was standing behind him. Sun was also grinning at Gwen, and as usual, his flight suit was unzipped to his navel, his survival vest open and G-suit slung over his shoulder. And as usual, his impressive abdominal muscles and pectorals were on gleaming display. Even Pyrrha could not help but glance at him, and hurriedly looked away before Jaune noticed. Gwen continued to wave and drool when Octavia sighed, walked back, and began dragging her along.

"You're a dick," Neptune murmured to Sun, who kept waving at the girls, all of whom kept looking back at him.

"Psychological warfare," Sun said through his grin. "Now when they fight us, all they'll think about is my abs."

Scarlet David and Sage Ayana came up to them. "Yo," Scarlet called out. "We flying or flirting?"

"You're just jealous," Sun told him. Scarlet rolled his eyes. Sun turned to Pyrrha. "Good luck kiss, Pyr?"

She leaned over—she wasn't much shorter than him—and kissed his cheek. "Good luck, Sun." He used his tail to gently slap her rear, then walked towards his Ching Kuo. Jaune pretended he wasn't jealous.

"Whoa," Nora said as she came up to the knot of pilots with Ren, "you getting flirty with Sun?"

"Not at all," Pyrrha said. "He's not my type." She threw Jaune a quick, shy glance, which he caught. It instantly made him feel better.