A tranquil forest.

Leaves sat still, delicately hanging in the breeze that would soothe to and fro like tides. Faint buzzing, some faint chirping; the world was alive but politely quiet even when under the watch of the sun. Despite the dense overhead of foliage, there was nary a dark shade to ruin the bright green scenery. A deciduous world almost lifted from an idealistic landscape.

The quietness had served Arquette just fine. But alas not quite enough to have delivered a satisfying result.

As she walked back home, she noticed a growing squabble behind her.

"I told you you were going to be loud."
"That totally wasn't me! I was like just as quiet as you were!"
"What?! You like need your head checked since I wasn't the one who stepped on all that stuff that made noise!"
"And you like totally fell off the stupid tree and hit every brach on the way down because it noticed us only when- Ow!"

Arquette turned around to see Fensalir and Folkvangr having a tussle. Well, as much of a tussle they can have when weighed down by ropes, nets, and personal knapsacks (Arquette's included). Despite the weight, the submarine twins gave it their all, swinging the items as dangerously as they started to throw their weight.

No words were used when a hand came at lightning speed, bonking the two sisters cold in their tracks before they could react. Fensalir and Folkvangr nursed their scalps as Arquette now stood over them. "Are you two going to waste time with bicker? I don't think I brought you two along for that reason."

The sisters winced in shame. "We're sorry miss Arquette..."

"Save your apologies for blunders rightfully credited to yourselves. Today's hunt was simply one of misfortune. The fox just happened to be one step ahead of the hounds. Speaking of which, I could certainly make use of hounds for our next attempts. Perhaps royal harriers will supplement nicely. Would certainly be more useful than you lot..."

With that, the party resumed their march back home, with the submarines trailing behind Arquette with sulking looks. For what she had deemed a noble sport, Arquette was left for want. But it would be uncharacteristic of her to abandon the endeavor after only one venture; persistence was as much of a test in hunting as was patience (and if it wasn't for her, there was always polo).

Soon the forest gave way to familiar clearing and a trail, the antechamber to civilization that lay shortly ahead. Wild growth subtly turned into trimmed and orderly hedges, umbrella of green gave way to brick and mortar, and dirt transitioned to cobblestone.

Ahead, two maids approached. "Welcome back, Arquette," they greeted with curtsies.

"How was the excursion?" asked Sheffield.

Arquette sighed. "There was much left to be desired. The traps had been set and the bait was soon taken. But not before things went awry."

The maid glanced past the baroness to see Fensalir and Folkvangr averting their gazes towards her; the implications were clear. Arquette cleared her throat. "Regardless, has our supper been prepared?"

"Yes. Everything has been prepared as per your requests," Edinburgh answered. "... And to your exact specifications."

Arquette brushed her hair before taking a better interest in polishing her shades than the maids. "Ah, lovely. My submarine aides will be appreciative of the hospitality arranged. As for me, I have my bath to look forward to after-"

An object, large as a head, fell from the sky as if discarded from the very heavens to conveniently fall upon the carrier's head with a thud before it bounced away.

"Aw shoot. My bad!" an approaching voice called out.

Arquette grimaced as she massaged her scalp, her expression souring when she laid eyes on those who approached, the ones responsible.

Cleveland was the first to arrive, greeting her with an embarrassed look. The others, her sisters among them, tried to look as innocent as they could. "Eheh, sorry about that. Got a little carried away with some B-ball."

"Gee Vulture, don't shoot so hard."

"The problem wasn't the throw, it was the aim."

"Oh for-" Arquette stopped herself short, her scowl deepening as her eyes picked out a familiar figure in the crowd. "As if this merry band of misfortune wasn't enough, you had to show up!"

All eyes were cast towards White Valley who shrugged with indifference. "It's a small world when we all hang out in the same place."

Recognizing her, the submarines Fensalir and Folkvangr swiftly came to Arquette's side with feisty expressions. Where they would squabble amongst each other at any day they stood on unambiguous ground, glaring at the mercenary carrier. "White Valley!"

"Too small if I must say!" snapped Arquette, keeping the twins reined in by her side. "Ever since we met you've been insistent on being a thorn on my side!"

"Er, what about those two?" a voice cheekily pointed out.

Arquette sighed. "... A thorn on our side. But mine especially."

White Valley could only laugh. "You haven't changed one bit, Arquette. I see you've still got that stick up your ass since Fighter's Honor."

"Do. Not. Remind me," the noblewoman carrier hissed in a low voice.

The rest of the ships, though standing to the side, couldn't help but feel caught in the middle. Swiftly, Columbia sought a way to divert the tension. "So hey, let's just find another basketball."

"Right!" Cleveland stepped in between with open hands. "Let's head back to the court everyone." As she encouraged everyone back the way they came, she not quite-so subtly herded White Valley with her as she did. Though left with a sour note, Arquette recognized the opportunity for what it was and stomped away with a huff, the Royal maids escorting the submarines after her with diligence.

Cleveland watched as they leave. Satisfied that they were now out of sight, she stopped nudging White Valley and sighed in relief. "Man, Arquette really doesn't like you does she?"

"Neither did Fensalir and Folkvangr," Montpelier noted. "What exactly was the situation between you two?"

"It's a long story," White Valley replied whimsically. "She and I've been around for plenty of years and this continent gets plenty of action even before the Rose Kingdom attacked. I could tell you stories but I doubt they'd be the interesting kind to hear (unless it's about her personal details which I happen to know a handful...)."

The carrier's words sparked Denver's interest, giving her all ears. "Years, huh? Okay, how about… how about the most interesting thing you've seen or done? I think a soldier of fortune of your caliber would be brimming with cool stories to tell!"

"'The most interesting thing I've seen', huh." White Valley mused over the idea and it was not long until a grin spread across her face. "Alright, you got a deal. I'll tell you something real interesting, something that actually happened that I saw. Probably some classified stuff so if a brown-noser wants to complain about it, screw 'em."

"Oh boy, a bedtime story," Vulture snarked. But even with her tone she too gathered around. Feelings of the rough encounter with Arquette or pretense of their game evaporated as White Valley began.

"It happened at least a couple years back. Around… oh where was it again, the Twinkle Islands? The Skully Islands? Anchorhead? The Skully Islands again? Whatever, it happened around this continent. This place always seemed to have someone causing trouble, even after the Temptation War and all that crap. Local governments A, B, C, all the way to Z were willing to pay through the nose for any help and so naturally, I've been busy.

"But there was this one job that stood out even to this day. You can see some odd things once in a while but it was especially weird. Even today I still got no idea what happened.

"... And it was all because of the Crimson One..."

"Unified Command to White Valley, you are cleared to engage."

When I heard that, the first thing I did was roll my eyes a little. I mean, one, I know the routine so much I could die if I made it into a drinking game; two, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't cleared to engage.

A few years ago, some sporadic conflicts started breaking out in Usea. Given how many nations there were on this continent I guess no one should've been surprised (maybe having attractive women like me fight for some people's amusement took over the fact that the world almost ended). Either way, someone wanted someone else to have a bad day and I wanted to get paid. A few months and many paychecks later, there I was. Rebels were on their last legs and I was here to kick it over.

Their key headquarters was in my sights; location and topography was just how the briefing covered it: a coastal fortress that was about as big as the island it was on, which for the record wasn't any big but you get the idea, it was big. I could see it clear on the horizon and I could tell it was going to be a rather tough nut to crack. But if there's three things I don't turn down, it's fat paychecks, chicks who dig scars, and a healthy challenge. So two out of three.

So I went right in. The fortress was covered in gun batteries but it was nothing I wasn't briefed on or wasn't used to. Shellfire was no biggie compared to missiles but even then it was just a matter of ducking, dodging, and weaving (if you can handle that, then you don't need to bother with flares). One would think it was tough dodging all that but me, all it did was make my blood run hotter.

Oh yeah and before I forget Arquette was there on the rebel's side. We already met and because I was doing a damn good job with my, uh, job, she wasn't real happy to see me again. After what happened in the Skully Islands and to her two shorties Fensalir and Folkvangr, boy was she pissed!

Her planes were already out and so were mine; a kind of a one-on-one duel (except for the fact she had an entire island fortress to back her up). She was here to settle a score and even if I had no hard feelings, I played along 'cause hey, in our own little ways we were both looking forward to it. Encounter after encounter, we'd always bring in our A-game no matter how much we were familiar with each other's tactics.

So anyways, I beat her and blow up the entire fortress until

"Woah, hold on!" Columbia interrupted. "You can't just gloss over a moment like that!"

"Yeah, I bet it was going to be awesome!" Denver pouted. "Especially with how you single-handedly crushed an entire fortress. I was looking forward to hear how you took it on!"

"Whatever happened to wanting to hear about the interesting part?" White Valley muttered. "Yeah sure, blowing up a fortress isn't exactly common but c'mon, that wasn't the weirdest thing I saw then."

Denver relented with only a disappointed look as the others conceded to let the carrier resume her tale. "So anyways..."

I beat Arquette and used the opening to blow up the entire fortress that was the rebel's base. Probably took more ammo than I would've liked but thankfully the rebels seemed to like littering the inside with things that tend to explode (which could help explain why there were explosions everywhere now that I mention it).

So I think to myself "Mission Accomplished", I just blew up their main base as planned and I'm about to fly outta there. Job well done, and I had negotiated for a bonus prior to the sortie. So basically I was in a real good mood - I beat the bad guys, I saved the day, and I was on my way to see if I could get a girl or two that I almost didn't notice my radar and Command giving me an earful over the radio.

"Standby… Warning, unknown bogey on radar! She's approaching fast!"

Now I'm sure you'd forgive me for being skeptical when I first heard that: there were plenty of ships beside me and Arquette around so my first guess that maybe it was one of those coming to town. Or someone whose IFF hadn't exactly been refreshed or datalinked; newcomers were always a pain to sync up with. Heck, I wasn't the only mercenary running around so it could've been one of them!

But I checked; both Command and I saw that whoever this was, she was moving fast - really fast. We first spotted her entering the radar scope and it took only a few seconds before I made visual on her.

And when I did see that ship, she was unlike anything I had ever seen.

Human, definitely. But her rigging was weird-looking, lots of sharp angles and edges, like she could cut you if you tried to hug her. And with all those wings it was like she was trying to be a plane rather than a ship. Wasn't sure what sort of clothes she was wearing, but underneath some of the plating that looked like armor or a harness she was pale as all hell. And everything - practically everything she had on her, was red. Bright red, red for days from port to starboard and with no markings. The red was the first big thing I noticed - the Crimson One.

The other thing was the way she looked. You know how folks get creeped out by anyone who doesn't emote much or get an expression that just doesn't jive? Well in the Crimson One's case it was her eyes. Something about them and her expression didn't quite look natural. It was like she had no idea what blinking was with how wide her eyes were. And her expression… too neutral for my liking. Blank. She looked human but didn't quite look human, you get what I mean? If eyes were the window to a person's soul, then she either lacked one or… judging by how they glowed red it was something worse.

And she was looking straight at me.

Columbia shivered as if chilled by an ice-cold breath. "Brrrr…! Now how frightening would that be to actually see it?"

Cleveland smiled nervously. "Er, yeah. Imagine- Ow!"

Everyone blinked away spots from their vision as Vulture lowered her phone. Beheld on its screen was Cleveland, her unwitting expression captured in the bright flash, her eyes shining brightly. Seeing this, Vulture cringed at the sight. "Ugh. Yeah, you're right."

A dope slap to the back of her head and the story resumed.

"Unknown vessel, squawk ident."

Command tried the usual "policy". But I couldn't see any emblem or marking, and neither did my HUD. Just a big fat "UNKNOWN". Command tried again but still got no response. No way she could not have heard that; I heard it clear as day on open channels. At this point, I already assumed that she wasn't going to be friendly so when my missile warnings went off, I wasn't surprised. I didn't bother waiting to hear Command give me permission to engage.

So I charged in. Even after taking on Arquette and an entire island fortress I was still burning hot. I don't know who the Crimson One was but I still felt like I could take her on. I mean, after everything so far what would a stranger offer to the ring?

But then the Crimson One started reacting - she reacted fast and reacted hard. I wasn't quite sure what kind of ship she was supposed to be but she was zooming around, fast - or even faster - than a destroyer. And not only was she moving quick, she was making insane turns one after another. As if the laws of physics or even whiplash didn't exist for her.

I was barely able to keep my eyes on her, and even when I could that was when she pulled out a trick of hers: a sort of ECM that didn't just prevented a lock-on, but would try to confuse the hell out of it with multiple "phantom" targets. A saturation-type ECM. Tech like that back then wasn't cheap, so how the hell did a nobody like her get one as good as she did?!

So all I could do was keep up. Keep chasing, keep dodging, and keep firing. The Crimson One moved like a pro and had tricks, spitting out missiles like she knew what she was doing. But if there was one trick of my own I could count on, it was grit. I'd take a hit once or twice and I still had yet to hit back, but I was getting close; sooner or later, I'd get her back. If you can't win fast, then just hold on 'til you can.

The Crimson One was fast, but no one's faster than a well-timed shot. With what Flankers and missiles I had left, I just bided my time. I kept chasing after her, but that was going to be more of a pretense; what I was trying to do was see if I could herd her around, move in a way I wanted. She zipped around, never staying in one place or direction for even a second, but she was definitely a reactive sort. What I did, she'd move accordingly, like she was testing me.

I dispersed my jets, had them spread out. I had 'em scrambling around her like a pincer movement. Even without having to shoot, I saw the Crimson One shoot off to the side. That was something I wanted to see.

I tried again, see how far I could take it. I sicced my Flankers on her and they were definitely getting her attention. She was evading but now it was away from my planes. The instant she turned away from me, I was grinning from ear to ear.

… Aaaaand then things went a little haywire. Right as I opened fire with everything I had left, from me and my planes, the Crimson One suddenly shifted gears. In a blink of an eye she was headed right towards me; I fired, but her ECM kicked in. Missiles and aircraft zipped all over the place, and for a split-second in the chaos I saw nothing but red and felt something almost knock the wind out of me - I had swung at her but it was she who got me good.

We sailed right past each other, me trailing smoke. I had planes, but I was now out of missiles. But I wasn't down just yet. I still had my gun, but as I turned, another idea dawned on me, so I

White Valley coughed. "How long have I been talking? I feel my throat's getting a bit parched. Sit tight, I'll be right back in a jiffy." Giving her legs some invigorating shakes, the carrier promptly walked off in search of refreshment. Remaining behind, her audience was left with only each other and lingering questions.

"Hey sis, what do you think the Crimson One really was?" asked Columbia as she chewed on another stick of gum.

"Not sure," Cleveland admitted. "We haven't heard all of her story so I can't say for certain."

"I say she was someone affiliated with the Sirens," Montpelier muttered.

"No I kinda doubt it," the blonde replied. "Didn't White Valley say this happened years ago? We weren't around back then so neither could the Sirens. Hey Vulture, what do you think?"

"Dunno, man. Who even knows what went on over there. Personally I think it was a UFO."

Denver sputtered a laugh. "An 'Unidentified Flying Object'? Really?"

"No no no, not an 'unidentified flying object', and 'unidentified floating object'."

"Wouldn't 'unidentified sailing object' be more accurate of a description?"

Vulture shrugged. "Er, maybe."

"Hold up, you're not actually thinking that the Crimson One is an alien, are you?"

"... You mean if she's a Siren?"

Further speculation came to an abrupt end when White Valley returned, soda can in hand. Her deep gulp preceded an equally deep and satisfying sigh. "Back, and feeling refreshed now. Will keep me company unless I need to take a leak. So anyways, where I left off..."

So there I was, out of ammo and running low on options. But I wasn't going to call quits right there - not until I had another card to play. Not my "last" card, mind you; I personally believe you should keep pulling cards until you win or get kicked off the table.

I looped back around, keeping my speed. I saw the Crimson One directly across from me, just skirting around the side. I pretended to keep my distance and for a moment it looked like she was too, but then she instantly turned around and began rocketing towards me - she was going to try to finish me off.

I plunged right in. I brought my planes close to my side. I had just one shot and I wanted it to go right.

I send my planes out first, branching off to the sides. I made sure to send them out way ahead, just like what I had done previously, except I arranged them to make a lane. The Crimson One might have noticed my birds, but she continued to maintain heading, still headed straight for me.

She fired a missile, but I waited until I saw that she was continuing to sail straight. I continued to head straight for her. Used the last of my CIWS to get her missile and right before she could launch another or collide-

I dropped down. Powerslid right under her; almost scraped myself against her pointy wings and rigging. I went right past her, and as for the Crimson One…

When I had my planes gather 'round me before I sent them out, I actually left one for myself, tucked away behind me so she couldn't see it. So when I ducked low right at the last second, BAM!

An awed chorus punctuated the moment.

"So you used your own plane as a substitute missile against her!" Cleveland revealed.

"What's a jet plane but a missile with extra steps?" White Valley laughed.

"Huh. Clever," muttered Vulture.

The gambit worked. I managed to herd her into a head-on and got her good. Barely saw the plane I hid slam into her but I sure felt the impact! As I slid to a stop, I watched as she now trailed smoke, thick and black. Then from her I saw a small pop, then another - she was as good as finished. Must've been a more serious blow then even I had expected.

She kept moving straight but I could see she was only being carried by momentum. More explosions, one after another, and right as she collapsed-

BOOM!

She blew up. I'm not kidding you: she exploded in this big, great fireball. I don't know if any one of you have seen a ship die in combat, but having one explode like that was unusual. Ammo doesn't blow up like that; our ship riggings minimize any cook-off, though that's not to say that exploding wasn't impossible. But that's what I saw happen: a great big explosion, and by the time the dust settled and I could see again, nothing of the Crimson One remained.

Made my way back to harbor and reported the situation. Command got it all on radar and from my black box. We looked far and wide, digging through whatever info we had, but nothing came up conclusive. No matching appearance, nothing. And without any physical trace of her left… Maybe that's why she exploded the way she did.

No clues, no ideas, and no explanations. Even when that little conflict died down there was nothing, nothing to remotely pin her down. The only thing we knew about her was the color: bloodred all over, glistening in the light like a red sun. The name we all gave her was concise and as broad as it could get: the Crimson One. And that was the only thing we knew for certain about that ship...

"Well, I'd done my job, and that little conflict came to an end when the rebels surrendered. Even after the cessation of hostilities nothing new came up about her. So as time went, I just moved on." White Valley paused before bringing the tale to an end. "So yeah, that's the Crimson One for ya, for the weirdest or most interesting thing that's ever happened."

Her audience stirred, seemingly from the spell of the story. Now free from its clutches, they were left with lingering thoughts and feelings.

"Woah… so that's the Crimson One," Denver breathed in astonishment. "Now I'm curious as to what she was!"

Cleveland pondered, her brow burrowing in contemplation. "Hrmmm. Even after hearing the entire story, I still got no clue on what she could've been."

"Maybe she was a secret weapon whose secrets were that well-kept," suggested Montpelier.

"I don't buy that," Vulture interjected, skepticism heavy in her tone.

As if broken for her own spell, White Valley took note of her surroundings, suddenly noting the amber glow of the dusk sky. So captive they all were that the game of basketball had long since been abandoned.

She rose up, yawning. "Well, that's that. I guess next time you need 'ol Scarface to spin you a story… well, it probably won't be anywhere near as interesting as this one."

Before she could begin walking away, White Valley was swiftly approached with yet one last question, courtesy of Denver. "Hey! I know you don't have answers, but what did you think the Crimson One was? Did you think she was some kind of alien?"

White Valley scoffed. "Alien? Now that's a little outrageous. If you were asking if the Crimson One is or was related to these Sirens, I don't know about that either. Sirens have tentacles and crap, she didn't."

This time, it was White Valley who pondered the mysteries of the story she had told. "But at the same time, there was no way she was human either. There was just no way."

"What makes you so sure?" Columbia asked.

White Valley looked off to the side, her gaze looking back to her memories. "Remember how I said she was unnatural-looking? About the way her eyes looked and all? I hadn't mentioned it, but she was like that all throughout the battle. Just that stare, like her face was frozen solid or something. And it wasn't just her face that wasn't human.

"Command called out to her over the radio and the Crimson One didn't pick up. But at no point after did she ever say anything. Hell, she didn't make a sound. Not even a peep. I don't know about you, but no one is ever stoic or stone-cold enough to never show emotion in a fight. But her? Dead silence. Even when I scored a hit. Even when she died. Just nothing.

"Know anyone like that? Yeah, didn't think so."

A cool breeze rolled through but that was not what sent a chill down their spines. An uncertain silence dominated the mood until White Valley returned to break the ice.

"So yeah. What do I personally think the Crimson One was? A ship, definitely. A person, not so much. But honestly, no matter how much I could ask, I doubt I'd ever find out anytime soon. Since that incident, I haven't run into or heard of anything else like it. Command had written it off as a freak anomaly and frankly, I couldn't have described it any better. At some point, neither of us could dwell on what-ifs or could-bes forever."

Tossing up her already-empty drink can, White Valley started to walk off. "C'mon. Storytime's over. Gonna miss dinnertime if we don't get back to the mess hall."

And so they went, returning to heart of civilization, returning to the present. And with the setting sun behind them, to the next day as well. And soon, the later days to follow, always advancing to the future. Though left behind, the past would not find itself abandoned. Always lurking, at the back of minds. Waiting.

At the end of the day, the Crimson One would remain as she was: a riddle for the ages.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

HistoricHippos:

Presenting to you not just a reference to the Z.O.E encounter from Ace Combat 2/Ace Combat: Assault Horizon Legacy, but a small reference to Project Wingman! The idea of this filler chapter was something I had in the back of my mind for the list of things I wanted to write as part of this crossover fic, but it wasn't until I binge-watched some Project Wingman gameplay (mainly the final boss fight) that I had the idea of what to title this. And then it all started to come together (bonus points that the Z.O.E jets that were fought in those Ace Combat games were painted all-red).

Next chapter, we'll be returning to our regular content. Look forward to the Anchorhead Raid and some unexpected visitors!