Chapter Twenty-Four: Conflict
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Farbanti, Erusea.
August 20th, 2019.
1000hrs
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"The Arsenal Bird 'Liberty' was destroyed by the super weapon Stonehenge late yesterday afternoon, opening up the opportunity for other Osean forces to claim more land from the Erusean military in hopes of eventually reaching and reclaiming the Space Elevator. Although we were unable to interview any of the brave, skilled pilots that took on the Arsenal Bird, footage received from one of our reporters shows that a new group of aces is on the rise. One of these aces' planes bears a set of unique markings, with one red wing resembling that of a previous ace, and three scratches on its tail. This pilot has come to be known by many names, from Three Strikes to a ghost of Solo Wing. But without the help of this mysterious pilot, the Lighthouse War wouldn't be turning in our favor as quickly—"
OBC newscaster, Mark Richard, was abruptly cut off and the TV screen went black. Rosa flinched as General Parrish slammed the remote control onto the coffee table. Leo lifted his head from his nap, growling slightly at the source of the disturbance. The princess leaned forward, scratching behind his ears and shushing her furry companion until the golden retriever let out an irritated huff and laid his head back on his paws, keeping his eyes centered on the general as Parrish began to pace around the room with his arms crossed. Everyone watched him as he did. It wasn't much of a formal meeting. General Parrish and General Labarthe were over for breakfast with Rosa and her parents, and it just so happened that Parrish wanted to catch the ten o'clock news…on OBC.
The young general paced for several minutes, muttering under his breath. At last, after he'd rehearsed his furious monologue, he jumped right into it, "Osea is getting smug. They're overconfident and overcompensating. They know that they don't have a chance at winning this war, so they mock us by using our own weapons against us!" As he spoke, he threw his hands in the air for emphasis, but Rosa thought that it resembled a frantic plea for help from someone who was drowning. She'd always been expressive and moved a lot whenever she spoke, but she liked to think that her own movements were graceful and served a purpose instead of just…random.
Labarthe shook his head. "For God's sake, François!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "You're acting like a spoiled child that didn't get his way! Stonehenge was abandoned, and Osea rightfully took the opportunity. It's not mocking us, it's making a strategic move that we weren't able to so much as consider. And took advantage of the fact that we were foolish enough to deploy the Arsenal Bird without any cover, aside from its own, incomplete drones. If anything, I'd compliment our enemy and then use this as an opportunity to rethink our previous battle plans."
Parrish's jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed on Labarthe incredulously. "I honestly can't believe that you're justifying Osea encroaching on our territory, taking our land, reactivating a weapon that we designed, and using it for their own selfish gain!"
"This is a war, dammit!" Labarthe hissed, rising to his feet. Rosa and her father looked over at him in surprise, not used to seeing him so angry. Usually he kept his cool rather well, but it seemed that General Parrish was pushing his patience to its limit. "Osea did the same thing that we'd have done in their shoes— the same thing we've done in the past. They're doing what it takes to end this war, which is more than I can say for you! Your answer to everything is a fight. Osea isn't evil, and neither are we. So stop acting like the 'bad guys' are winning and stealing from us, when you know damned well that it's not as black and white as that! While I've been working my butt off to get a meeting with Osean officials, you've been destroying all of my progress because your answer to everything is a fight. Why don't you take a moment to reevaluate things for once in your life?"
"General, are you proposing that we start trying to negotiate a peace treaty?" Rosa asked, blinking in surprise. Truth be told, she wasn't a huge fan with all of the fighting. True, Osea overstepped their boundaries, but it was her father and Parrish that believed that war was the answer. And in the last few weeks, she'd been…doubting it, quite a bit.
It was her father that answered, glaring at Labarthe. "Whether or not he's proposing it, I hope that he realizes that it's far too soon for that sort of action. Osea needs to be taught a lesson, and I fully intend to do just that." It was Rosa's turn to be shocked. He was echoing things that Parrish had said, and she didn't like hearing those words coming from her own father's mouth. She thought that he was the more reasonable, taking a neutral standpoint just as she believed she'd been doing. Parrish looked rather pleased as the King stood up. "Labarthe, keep in contact with Osea. If we are going to negotiate, then it's going to be on Erusea's terms. Parrish, I think we should continue to defend the territory that we've gained in the meantime. If Osea pushes us, then we push back harder."
"Your Majesty…" Labarthe began, glancing between his two old friends with an almost pleading look on his face. He cleared his throat and was quick to regain his previous composure. "The Lighthouse is ours. If we were to…imply that we might return it to Osean hands, provided Erusea maintains some degree of ownership, then we might be able to bring about a cease fire so we can talk more about peace."
"Not everyone is as silver-tongued as you, Édouard," Parrish reminded him with a sneer. "Erusea isn't a country of pushovers, and our King realizes this. Talking isn't the solution. As I've said many times before, we have to show Osea that we mean business. I personally believe that we should keep fighting them until we burn them all to the ground, let them see what it's like to be on the receiving end of Erusea's fury." At this, Leo had risen from his nap and let out another low grow, sensing that a full blown argument was bound to break out before long and he was making it clear that he wouldn't be happy if Rosa got involved. But Labarthe took a shaky breath and then relaxed himself.
"Fine then," he snapped, looking around the room at all three of them. His eyes settled for a moment on Rosa. "I just hope that in your attempt to prove that Erusea is not to be trifled with, you don't turn us into the same type of monsters that other countries have. Need I remind you of the horrible reputation and stereotyping that the Belkan got themselves with a mentality much like yours, François? It's been twenty years and very few will ever trust them again. Do you want that to happen to Erusea? Do you want us to lose our country and become a part of stories that parents tell their children to scare them?"
Even Rosa doubted that that would truly happen. They were nowhere near as desperate as Belka had been, and she knew that her father would reach his senses and stop the fighting before it came to that. But there was a flash of doubt across his face as Labarthe spoke. Parrish, on the other hand, scoffed at him. "You're talking nonsense, just as you always have," he replied heatedly. "Go and take your fearmongering somewhere else, General. In the meantime, I have ways that will bring about an end to the war as well as bringing Erusea centuries of glory. Not as monsters, but as pioneers."
"And I want no part in it," Labarthe seethed. "Your obsession with drones and glory will be your downfall." He took a deep, calming breath as he nodded respectfully to Rosa and her father. "I'm sorry that you had to witness this argument…but I can't pretend to agree with the methods that you've been using any longer. Do whatever you think is best for your kingdom, but don't be surprised if more people disagree with you than agree." With that, he marched off, out of the room.
Rosa's father sighed, watching him leave with a conflicted look on his face. Parrish on the other hand gave a smug smirk and crossed his arms, obviously pleased with himself. Pushing herself out of her seat, Rosa followed after him as fast as she could in her heels. "General! General, wait a moment, please!" she called out to him as she left the massive living room and stepped out into the hallway, shutting the mahogany doors behind her. The marble floors made a lot of noise whenever someone walked on them, and with the raised ceilings came a bit of an echo. If she didn't want her father and Parrish to overhear her, then she'd have to keep her voice down. "General Labarthe!"
He'd already made good distance between him, marching on with some sort of fury in every step, and at first Rosa thought that he was purposefully ignoring her. At last he stopped, turning around curiously as Rosa hurried to catch up to him, Leo jogging at her side in order to keep up. "Princess." He dipped his head forward as she drew closer, finally coming to a halt in front of him. Labarthe's surprised expression contorted into an apologetic one. "Again, I'm terribly sorry that you had to witness an argument, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory. Politics can be a…frustrating business. As you see, it can turn friends to enemies within a matter of seconds."
"Well, having been thrown into it at a young age I can understand completely. I've grown used to arguments, General," she said. It took her a few minutes to get her thoughts together, and they stood in awkward silence until she did. "I just…I don't think I have the stomach for this. I can tell that, with how tense things are between you and General Parrish, that there's probably been an upset within your parties recently. My father told me that the two of you never quite did get along all that well."
Labarthe sighed. "Parrish has always been overly combative when it comes to his beliefs. No matter how wrong he may be, he continues to push his ideals and overstep boundaries," he said with a shake of his head. "The first Continental War brought about a change in his behavior. He witnessed many things, and saw many people he cared about killed in action. I'm not excusing his behavior, but he began to hold very…aggressive and radical beliefs after that. In fact, I think that all the destruction he saw brought about his belief that drones were the future. Around that time was when he started furiously scribbling down drone design proposals every free moment that he had. And he's charming to some extent, and knows how to sell an idea. Many people agreed with him and his ego received more than a small boost, along with his rank."
Rosa bit her lip, wringing her hands together nervously. "I don't know what to believe…my father and General Parrish tell me one thing and then I hear another from you or a passerby on the street…I just want an end to the bloodshed," she admitted, all in one breath. "If Harling hadn't have built that elevator, then we wouldn't be in this war to begin with…everything started falling apart then."
"Maybe that is the whole problem, but most likely it isn't. You wouldn't rage an entire war over something so petty, in my opinion," Labarthe said, crossing his arms. He took a deep breath, looking around. "I can't force you to believe the same way I do, and considering the title you hold it would be disrespectful of me to try. But, it seems you're starting to doubt Parrish's ways?" Rosa gave a reluctant nod, looking up at him. Labarthe took another breath. "Well, I'm not the best at giving at advice, but if you're starting to doubt something and have a change of heart then you should speak up about it. Believe me, you're a pillar of moral for many a young Erusean soldier. If you were to speak, then they'd listen. We need more of them to start thinking for themselves instead of blindly following anyways."
"I thought soldier's weren't supposed to question anything. Be it orders or the reason they're fighting," Rosa said carefully.
Labarthe chuckled darkly. "Yeah, that's what they'd like us to do. But blindly following anyone or anything can cause unnecessary bloodshed more often than not. And everyone needs a reason to fight." He paused and studied her face with a thoughtful look on his own. Furrowing his brow, he said, "I just wonder what your reason is, Princess…Now, if you'll forgive me, I really must be heading out. I have a meeting with someone very important, and hopefully they're more diplomatic than General Parrish."
"Of course, I won't hold you up any longer," Rosa said distractedly, focusing more on what Labarthe had said to her. She shook the thought away and bowed her head respectfully, Labarthe returning the gesture. "Thank you for your time. And your advice."
"It's been an honor, Your Highness." Labarthe gave her a gentle smile and gave Leo a quick pat on his head before turning around and continuing to make his way down the hallway, towards the passage that would eventually lead him to the front door. Rosa watched him go, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse the entire time, with his comment still playing in her head. What was her reason for supporting the war up until this point? She'd started out being all for it, but now it was dragging on and her father was only considering negotiations. If she didn't support it, then why did she continue saying what her father and General Parrish did, and agreeing with them on the war. If she didn't have a reason, then did the Oseans have one? Or were they simply retaliating?
Rosa glanced over her shoulder, back towards the living room door, debating whether she would go back inside and join her father. She wished that the newscaster had gone into more detail about that Three Strikes, to give her a reason to turn on the TV again. It seemed that he — whoever he may be — was the face behind Osea's victories. What was his reason for fighting? And how had he given an entire country hope without having ever spoken a word to the public? Rosa guessed that you'd have to be a pretty powerful person. Perhaps even a very charismatic one. Was this Three Strikes just doing his duty, the same way she was doing hers? Was it out of patriotism or did he just hate Eruseans?
She swallowed hard and looked down at her feet with a heavy sigh, trying to keep the thought out of her mind. She had other, more important things to worry about. And among them, was going to be her next speech.
New Arrows Air Base, East of Usea.
August 21st, 2019.
0708hrs.
Ever since Trigger and Count returned from Stonehenge, they'd been acting odd. Everyone had been acting odd. Major Wiseman had been furious with both of them, and Trigger wore a guilty look on her face. Count seemed to scowl more than usual and he was reverting to his overly aggressive ways once again. Tabloid didn't know what was wrong with them. No one had died, and the main problem seemed to be with just the three of them. OBC had showed the destruction of the Arsenal Bird from footage some reporter managed to snag during the battle. Why the Osean Army allowed a civilian to document a major battle like that and get in harm's way was a mystery to him. But overall the mission succeeded. So why were his friends so upset?
He'd tried to ask Avril, but she couldn't get Trigger to say anything, so Tabloid decided he'd ask their wingmen. When he entered the mess hall, it didn't take long to find them. Fencer and Húxiān were talking with Skald and Lanza of Strider Squadron. Jaeger and Wiseman weren't there. This made it easier on Tabloid, since he probably wouldn't get a very exact response. This way none of them were on guard with having older pilots around, one of which was their commanding officer. Skald and Fencer looked pretty beat up, and Fencer had his arm in a sling. A sprain, if Tabloid heard correctly. He'd be off duty for about a week or two until it healed, which Tabloid felt bad for being somewhat happy about. If Cyclops needed to go out, then Tabloid took up the number three position in Fencer's absence, meaning he finally got to fly with Count and Trigger again.
As happy as he was, he still felt a little bad for Fencer, being busted up and unable to fly for a little while simply because of a bumpy ride down when he ejected. Skald was good to fly still, but he had a busted lip from a rocky landing. Húxiān, having also been forced to withdraw from the battle according to them, managed to escape without any injuries somehow. But obviously they hadn't gone without losing some planes, and Avril hadn't been too happy about working with Bandog to fix up Skald and Húxiān's planes. She said something about just scrapping them and contacting the General Staff Office about it, but she grudgingly got to work on it by the time Tabloid left the hangar.
The four of them were talking about something, and it must of been funny since all of them were grinning or laughing to some extent. Tabloid quickly put on a grin to mask the concern he was facing, waving to them as he approached the table. "Hey, guys," he said as he reached them, and they all recovered from their laughing, still smiling. He gestured to the empty seat at the table. "Do you, umm — mind if I join you?"
"Not at all. Go ahead," Skald said, nodding to the seat. Tabloid gave them a grateful look and took a seat, the four exchanging an amused look before turning their attention back to him. Skald spoke up again, "So, Peter, what's happening with you?"
"Nothing much, really." Tabloid shrugged, slowly growing used to hearing his real name again. He didn't mind his first name as much as he did his last, since it was Belkan in origin. He hadn't said anything to anyone about it, but Trigger's father seemed a little suspicious when he'd found out about it. Solo Wing Pixy could be intimidating, and even though he'd proven himself to be a decent pretty decent guy after punching Commander McKinsey, Tabloid was still a little uncertain about him. He did feel some guilt for not having stuck up for Trigger when they found out that her dad was Belkan, but seeing how badly Spare had reacted to her after that he figured it was best to keep it under wraps for the time being. And everyone had been none the wiser. But he wasn't going to worry about that right now. "I'm just curious about why Wiseman seems so pissed with Count and Trigger"
They all exchanged another look, but this one wasn't of amusement so much as it was of discomfort and mild annoyance. Fencer finally gave him an answer, "Well, we split up to engage two different units. Strider took an enemy rocket unit and Cyclops got to take care of some helicopters. Captain Foulke ditched Strider Squadron in the middle of the fight to swoop in and 'help' Cyclops. I swear, O'Connor — er, your friend Count, I mean — practically lost his shit. The two of them yelled at each other, and Foulke decided to try and pull rank on him. Wiseman stepped in and he's been irritable with everyone since then. In fact, I think Foulke's getting chewed out right now. I think Wiseman wanted to wait until Commander Hawkins could get involved before he reprimanded her."
Tabloid furrowed his brow, finding the story a bit hard to believe. He knew that Trigger's methods were unorthodox at times, and Count could be pretty reckless, but Trigger had never abandoned her squadron before. Even in Spare Squadron it had always been him, Count, and Trigger. She didn't run from a fight and she didn't leave anyone behind. But to learn that Count was actually following the rules was pretty surprising too. "That doesn't sound like them," he said, looking around the table. "Something else has to be going on with them."
"Yeah," Húxiān scoffed in agreement. "Count's a glory hound and Trigger doesn't know anything about leading a real squadron." Fencer and Skald nodded in agreement, Fencer giving a derisive laugh at the comment about Count. Tabloid would be lying if he said he wasn't a little upset about their reactions, but he'd wanted an honest answer.
Lanza raised an eyebrow at Húxiān, though. "Weren't you the one who claimed you had some sort of life debt to Trigger after she went up against Mr. X in Yinshi Valley, Húxiān?"
"I do owe her. But that doesn't mean that I worship her or something," Húxiān replied quickly and with a slight edge to her voice. "Trigger's a great pilot, her mind's probably just been warped from spending time in prison. Same with Count, if we're being entirely honest here. To survive a harsh environment, you have to become just as harsh if not worse just to make it through the day. It does something to you, and it takes years to get out of that kind of mindset. And even after that, you'll never fully recover from it. Believe me, I know as well as anyone what that's like."
"Don't we all?" Skald asked with a heavy sigh. Tabloid looked around, surprised that they seemed to have some understanding for what it was like to be a product of the environment you were raised in. He didn't have a bad life, but he'd seen enough to know that borders were pointless in his eyes. All they were was a line on a map dividing land from other land. Why start wars over something so ridiculously petty that, in the grand scheme of things, didn't really matter? And here they were, seeming to all come from some sort of rough background.
But what they said brought something to Tabloid's attention. And he was going to be having a talk with Count. Thanking them for the time, only momentarily debating apologizing for killing the mood, Tabloid left the mess hall and made his way outside and to the barracks, where he knew Count would be, just skulking around and pouting. Count was a complete and total ass half the time, but Tabloid knew that when it all came down to it, Count was one of the most loyal people that he knew. Unfortunately, he was incredibly selective about who received that loyalty. And it seemed that Wiseman and Trigger weren't making the cut for him, apparently. Maybe if they talked, then he could figured out what the root of the problem was and help him. In fact, he had a feeling that he already knew what the root of the problem was.
When he reached the barracks, he stepped inside and quickly turned down the hallway that led to his and Count's quarters. Since it was his room too, he didn't bother knocking before opening the door and stepping inside. Sure enough, Count was there, sitting on their bunk and going through his duffle bag. He barely even glanced Tabloid's way, scowling at the interruption and the fact that his alone time was over. Tabloid stared at him for a few minutes, trying to find out how to start the conversation, and he figured he'd try the direct approach. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Count paused, blinking in surprise before he turned to look at Tabloid. "Excuse me?" he asked, his surprise fading and scowl returning.
"I found out why you've been so grouchy ever since you got back from Stonehenge. What's got into you? And Trigger?" Tabloid asked, throwing his hands in the air and letting them just fall to his side as he stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. "I thought you two would be happy to be a part of a regular squadron. I mean, come on, Count! Wiseman's trusting you with covering his wing in a fight and you act like an ungrateful little child just because you wanted the lead. At least they actually let you fly, instead of grounding you for 'additional training' or some bullshit like that."
He let out a bitter laugh that surprised Tabloid, and Count rose to his feet, shoving his bag aside. "And why do you think that is, Tabloid?" Count asked him with a smirk. "Why do you think you're stuck on the ground? Why do you think I'm stuck being babysat by Wiseman? And why do you think that Trigger gets all the trust and admiration, huh?" Tabloid was going to answer him, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't come up with a good response. That was all that Count needed, apparently. "Exactly. Hehe…damn, Tabloid. You were easily the smartest guy back at Zapland and here you are acting like everything is perfectly fine. Full Band was right. You really are naive!"
Tabloid frowned, his patience wearing thin. "Well you seem to know everything, so why don't you enlighten me O' Wise One?"
"Real funny." Count scoffed. He sighed, seeming to have already thought through his response. "Surely you've realized that they don't actually want us here? It's always been Trigger that they wanted. She's the prodigy, she's the one who fought Mr. X, and she's the one that they trust. Well, did trust. After that stupid stunt she pulled, I doubt they'll think too highly of her anymore." He shook his head with an irritated snort and crossed his arms. "But you and I? They only took us in because they knew Trigger would want us here. And maybe Avril actually is of some use to them. But we're nothing more than a couple of ex-cons that everyone views as the 'problems' the ones that they need to 'fix'. I mean, look at us! An anarchist and a fraud. Why should anyone take us seriously or give us any responsibility?"
"So your problem is that you're jealous of everyone trusting Trigger and not you? You're upset because no one takes you seriously?" Tabloid asked incredulously, finding it a little hard to believe that jealousy was his only problem. "That's it? That's your problem?"
"My problem is everyone treating me like I'm incompetent!" Count snapped in response. "Trigger, Wiseman, Fencer, Húxiān, literally everyone else on the base! I worked my ass off to become a pilot, then I got thrown in prison. I thought maybe, just maybe Wiseman wasn't such a bad guy for giving me a shot in a regular squadron, but then he turns around and starts acting like I'm a goddamn child that he has to keep an eye on. And Trigger, too! They put her in charge of a squadron, give her a promotion, and suddenly she thinks that she's better than me. And don't act like you aren't jealous, too. Trigger and even Avril getting all the credit while you're stuck in the shadows?"
"Avril has nothing to do with this," Tabloid replied, scowling. He took a deep breath. "Maybe I am a little jealous, but you know what? Wiseman gave you a second chance when no one else would. He gave me one too. All of us! And you've been nothing but a pain in the ass ever since then! You think you feel left out and unwanted? I'm not even allowed to fly! I'm stuck in reserves while my friends get to go off kicking ass. But I'm not complaining because I know that Wiseman didn't have to even offer that, but he did because regardless. Same with you!" Tabloid clenched his fist, and he could see Count tense with every word, not liking the topic of the conversation. But Tabloid was almost done. "You want to stop being treated like a child? Then stop acting like one! Get your shit together, suck it up, and prove to them that you're just as capable as Trigger. And if you don't want to do that? Then shut up and stop complaining because I don't want to hear it!"
"That's easy for you to say, Tabloid. You've been practically smitten with Trigger ever since she showed up," Count said with yet another scoff.
Tabloid rolled his eyes. "Yeah, as if you haven't," he retorted, and Count gave him a look that could kill. Tabloid ignored it. "Get your head out of your ass, Count. Trigger's my friend. And she's yours too. So why don't you quit pretending to hate her? You ever consider that maybe she's just as stressed as you? She started out at the bottom of the pack and now suddenly she's leading a squadron. She might be in a position that she doesn't want just as much as you are. You know, maybe you two have more in common than either one of you want to admit. Why don't you think about that, huh?"
And with that, Tabloid turned around and opened the door, being sure to slam it behind him. He took a deep breath, calming himself down. That was the first time he could recall ever getting into an actual fight with Count. Sure, they disagreed a lot but they'd never actually raised their voices at one another. But if Count couldn't get his shit together after having a nice reality check, then he was probably hopeless. Tabloid wasn't too worried, though. Count just needed a good push every now and then. And sometimes you had no choice but to give your stubborn, asshole friends a nice, good shove once in a while and then leave him to figure things out for himself.
0740hrs.
Naomi shrunk back in her seat, well aware of how much trouble she was in. She felt like she was a kid sitting in the principle's office, only this time it was a little more serious than that. Her father was standing in the corner of the office with a blank expression. Jaeger sat beside her, although he wasn't in trouble. Long Caster and Commander Hawkins stood nearby at either end of Wiseman's desk. And sitting across from her was Wiseman, with several papers thrown onto his desk. Likely the reports that everyone had given him. But until they were ready to start yelling at her again, Naomi was taking a good look around and hoping to avoid any eye contact if she could.
Aside from the messy desk (which was understandable), Wiseman's office was rather neat and tidy. The filing cabinet even looked like it had been polished and the floors didn't have a speck on them. Every photo of his squadron that he had on the wall hung straight and were dusted. Naomi wondered if he had some sort of weird, OCD thing going on but she doubted it. Everyone that she'd met in the military seemed to have some need for things to be neat and a desire for order. At least, the commanders she'd had. Exceptions included McKinsey and Clown, but one of them just didn't care and the other one had better things to do than worry about whether or not his desk was tidy. But who was Naomi to judge. Even she liked organization to some extent.
She decided to observe the photos on the wall, although she didn't have a very good view from where she was. And her father was blocking some of them as he looked them over himself, eyeing her every so often. To say that he'd been disappointed when he heard about what had happened was an understatement. Naomi let out a sigh, turning back around to face Wiseman when her father gave her a stern look and nodded to her commanding officer. Jaeger and Long Caster offered her a mildly sympathetic look, perhaps the only ones that she was going to receive from anyone in the room. She wasn't complaining. She'd take whatever she could get. At least someone wasn't mad at her.
At last, Wiseman sighed and looked up at her. "You've put me in a difficult position, Trigger," he said to her, breaking the silence and bringing every eye in the room onto him. "Just because you're in command of Strider Squadron, that doesn't give you permission to attempt bossing around Cyclops. They're under my command, as are you, and I honestly expected much more from you than this, Trigger. From what Jaeger tells me, you're fine on the ground with everyone but in the air you act like you just don't care. And honestly, I've seen it myself. We all have."
"If you put so much faith in me, then why do you have Jaeger out there babysitting me for you?" Naomi asked, glaring at Jaeger. She didn't have a problem with him, nor did she mind having him in the squadron. But it was about time she said something. "I want to prove to you that I can lead Strider Squadron, but I didn't even get to choose who was flying with me. You just through me into the squadron, with Jaeger being the only one that actually trusted me and my capabilities. And then I have Lanza and Skald doubting me, too. I don't know these people, it's impossible for me to 'click' with them, I don't understand them...How can I work with people who can't or won't work with me?"
Wiseman nervously looked around the room, shaking his head. The other men all shared the same, concerned look, but it was Jaeger that spoke up. "I told you that would be a problem, Wiseman," he said, but there wasn't a mocking, 'I told you so' tone in his voice like one would expect. In fact, if anything it was more of irritation that no one listened to him in the first place. Wiseman didn't respond, so Jaeger continued, looking to Naomi, "I know Wiseman explained why everyone is so cautious with you and Count. And I know that he told you how some of us came from a less than ideal background. But you and Count are two of the most stubborn pilots we've had by far. You don't want to work with us, not the other way around."
Naomi blinked in surprise at how stern Jaeger was being with her. But Wiseman didn't plan on giving her a chance to argue. "What I said about Count applies to you as well," he explained to her. "If you don't want to adapt to the change and figure out how to work with them, then there isn't anything I can do for you. Your friends are all adjusting fine. I don't understand why you can't."
"Sir, I'd say I've adapted just fine all things considered," Naomi said. They all looked at her, and she adopted a more serious tone and expression. "I've watched friends die, I was pulled away from the ones I had left, I was thrown in prison for something I'm about 99% sure wasn't my fault, I was treated like shit by my own country and it's overall worthless government, and then suddenly you swoop in ready to save the day and take me under your wing and I'm supposed to forget everything that happened and be fine? To just blindly trust you without any good reason?"
"This is a war," Long Caster reminded her in a surprisingly calm manner. As if he wasn't just as surprised or irked as Wiseman and Colonel Hawkins were. "We've all lost people we care about and we've all faced our fair amount of trials. And we trusted you, even though we didn't have to."
"Oh, well I'm so sorry. I wasn't aware that made it all better," Naomi said snidely with an annoyed huff. "And thank you for trusting me with your great squadron and separating me from two of the only people I actually could trust to follow me and not talk back. What an honor—"
"Alright, that's enough!" Wiseman snapped at her, slamming his fist down which made her lose the snark and jump in her seat. He stood up so that he towered over her and raised his voice. "I've tried to be patient with you, but you better listen good right now. If you think that you're the only one that lost someone in this war so far then you better just go ahead and get over yourself. You're stubborn, disrespectful, and selfish and I'm tired of trying to be nice with you if the only thing you're going to understand is someone yelling at you. You're barred from flying until further notice. You say another word and I'll send your ass back to Osea with another court martial hanging over your head. Now keep your mouth shut and get the hell out of my office, NOW!"
Everyone was surprised by Wiseman's drastic change in demeanor, and Naomi felt guilt weighing down on her as she stood up, pushing back her own shock. It was replaced by anger as she spun around and marched towards the door. Her father sighed in disappointment, following her out the door and into the hallway, managing to slip through and close the door before she had the opportunity to slam it in his face. They walked along in silence as Naomi started to make her way back to her quarters. Once they were a good ways down the hall and away from Wiseman's office, Naomi finally said, "If you're going to try lecturing me then could you save it for later? I'm not really in the mood."
Her father shrugged. "I was just going to point out how badly you've been screwing up, but I'd say Wiseman did that well enough."
"Thank you." Naomi said flatly, rolling her eyes. "Did you ever get along this badly with your squadron?"
"I mean, it was just me and my buddy during the war, so I'd say we did alright," he answered, again shrugging. "Well…I mean, except for the whole deserting fiasco, but you already knew about that." Naomi nodded, not really wanted to say anything. Thankfully she didn't have to and her father continued talking, if only for her sake and to fill any awkward silence. "You know, they've got a point though. Before I was hired by Ustio and assigned to Galm Team, I never made a real friendship with any of the people I flew with before. And that was because I made a conscious decision not to. I didn't want anything slowing me down. I was there to fly and make enough money to live off of. And then Cipher — the annoying bastard he is — wouldn't leave me alone unless I actually spent some time socializing with other people and stopped acting like a prickly ass all the time."
Naomi raised an eyebrow, chuckling slightly. "You? Annoying? Why, I've never heard of such a thing..." she teased her father half-heartedly, cheering up just enough to actually maintain a smile.
He smirked and gave her a gentle smack on the back of the head. "You better watch it, young lady, or I'll send you to your room until dinnertime." The awkward laughter that they both let out quickly died off before her father let out a sigh. "But, seriously, Naomi. Wiseman only wants what's best for his squadron, and that means what's best for everyone involved. You've got to trust someone before long. You keep flying on nothing but emotions and keep up this 'I can't trust anyone' act and you're going to get yourself killed." Naomi didn't reply. "Look, I can't force you. But I don't want you to get hurt. Could you just try instead of giving up so easily?"
She stopped and looked at him, studying him for a moment as she considered what he said. His look was almost pleading, and she felt bad for the way she'd acted knowing that he taught her better than that. "I'll try…" Naomi muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets and continuing on her way. Her father didn't follow her, and she didn't really want him to that much anyways. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to, but she just didn't feel up to it.
Farbanti, Erusea.
August 30th, 2019.
2100hrs.
Rosa miserably slouched onto the couch as she returned from a walk she had intended to calm her nerves. She'd had a speech just hours before, and she expressed her doubts about the war and encouraged the citizens of Erusea to rethink their hostility towards Osea and understand that they weren't responsible for the construction of the Space Elevator. She'd simply said what she believed now. That Osea couldn't be held completely accountable for Harling's actions and that the former president had already paid for it with his life at the hands of one of his own soldiers, flying at the elevator in a pointless attempt to try and destroy it. That was the story she'd been told when word of Harling's death had reached the King and his family, anyways. Rosa wasn't entirely sure that it made sense, but it made enough for her to accept it until she heard a better explanation.
After the speech had ended, the look on her father and on General Parrish's faces were ones of surprise and anger, and the mixed cries of outrage and doubt from the crowd made it hard for her to hear what they had been saying to one another as Henri led them all away and to the car. Her father and Parrish had marched right down the hall to the King's study and Rosa had watched them go, treating her as if she wasn't even there. Her mother asked what had happened and when Rosa explained the situation, it seemed that all the color had drained from her mother's face for just a moment. She had looked over her shoulder before sending Rosa and Leo out on a walk around the grounds, offering to make her some tea for when she got back. Her mother always preferred that they do things themselves instead of being waited on, and the thought of a fresh, homemade cup of tea had been enough to relax her to some extent.
But after a short, five minute walk outside with only her dog for company, Rosa felt no better than she had when they'd returned home. A soft knock at the living room entrance made Rosa jump slightly, and she looked over her shoulder to see Henri holding a saucer with a steaming teacup on it. She gave a small, grateful and tired smile and sat up in her seat. The family's loyal bodyguard entered the room, setting the intricately painted cup and saucer on the table in front of the couch. He let out a satisfied mmm-hmm, running a hand through his slicked back, slightly graying hair. "Before you tell me that I didn't need to bring you the tea, your mother went to speak with your father," Henri offered an unnecessary explanation as he turned towards her, "and all of the maids had left for the day. Ergo, there wasn't anyone else available since your family refuses to hire a proper butler."
"Merci, Henri. You don't need to explain yourself," Rosa said to him with a respectful nod, leaning towards the cup and taking a deep breath. The smell of mint, lemon, and lavender told Rosa that it was her mother's 'special' tea. Really it was just mint and lavender tea mixed together with a lemon or two squeezed over it to add to some of the flavor. Either way, it tasted amazing and was the perfect way to relax. Rosa sat back again, waiting for it to cool off a bit more before she took a sip from it. She eyed Henri, who was busying himself with the tasks the maids or her mother would have done with more time. The silk curtains they had were closed, with Henri singing a popular song in Erusean under his breath while he worked, suddenly oblivious to her presence.
She could never tell what his opinions on the war were. In fact, he never seemed to care much for it, simply doing his duty and escorting Rosa and her family wherever they needed to go, always looking ready to take a bullet for any of them should the situation require it. But there was no doubt that he was getting older, and he'd seen several wars in his time without a doubt. She wondered if he'd ever served in the military, but she'd never had the thought to ask him. But perhaps today it might be nice to get another opinion from someone that wasn't quite so often considered. After how badly the day had ended, it couldn't possibly get much worse. Rosa picked up her teacup and took a sip of the warm beverage, nervously tapping her index finger on the ceramic as she thought of the best way to ask her question.
However, Henri became aware of the sound and the tell that she was thinking about something and — as he let the last of their curtains fall into place over the patio door — stopped his singing to declare to her, "I can tell that something is on your mind, Your Highness. You've had no trouble speaking your mind today, so why don't you just get out with it, child?" Although it would have been considered disrespectful to speak to royalty that way, Henri had known her since she actually was a child. Of course, she wasn't so sure that she couldn't be compared to one even now. And in spite of the seemingly harsh choice in words, Henri seemed to have an almost amused tone, and there wasn't any hostility in his eyes when he finally turned around to face her. But she didn't answer right away, and bit her lip as she met his gaze. There was a faint trace of concern in his voice as he prompted, "Princess? I didn't mean to offend—"
Rosa was quick to cut him off, "No, no, Henri, it isn't that! It's…I just have a question for you, if you wouldn't mind answering it. I'm sure it's probably more of a controversial topic than I previously believed…"
Henri raised an eyebrow curiously, checked the time on his smartphone before he silenced it and stuffed it in his pocket, then he made his way over to the couch and took a seat beside her. Leo padded over to the two of them, sniffing Henri curiously before he sat between the two of them on the floor and rested his head on Rosa's lap. Henri chuckled at the golden retriever. "Well, we're both listening if you need to get something off your mind. I can't say how well Leo is at advice giving and question answering, but I'm more than happy to lend an ear, Princess. Just take your time."
"You don't have to, really. It might take a little while, and I don't want to keep you from your family," Rosa said sheepishly. Truth be told, as much as she considered Henri to sort of be a part of their family, she never knew much about his real family and he made it a point to keep his personal life and business separate. Whether or not he actually had a real family, she didn't know. He never brought up a wife or any kids to them
"They'll be fine," Henri said with a shrug. "I told the missus I'd be home a little later tonight anyways. I still have to check the perimeter and brief the other guards before I can take off for the night, and that can wait a little longer." He gave her a reassuring smile, which Rosa returned, but they fell into a silence as Rosa once again began conflicting with herself about saying anything to Henri. In this time, Henri tried to fill the awkward silence with a light-hearted comment, "I remember when you were a carefree little girl visiting this palace for the first time when your relatives assumed the thrown. Long before you had all this responsibility and stress to deal with. You must miss how things were before the war. Even before your father became the King of Erusea."
She looked over at him as she took another sip of tea, then nodded slowly as she swallowed and lowered the cup back to the saucer. "Yes, I do actually. Don't get me wrong, my family has been incredibly blessed to go from having little in the world to ruling an entire kingdom…but, it would be nice to not worry about responsibility so much. To pursue my own interests instead of…"
"…Going in front of massive audiences and saying everything your father and General Parrish tell you to?" Henri finished for her, although he was mostly just asking if that was what she meant. It was. Rosa nodded slowly and hesitantly. Henri took a deep breath. "Well, then. Maybe you should be talking with your father about this instead of me. After all, it's his war that he's thrown onto your shoulders. If you're having doubts, then you have the right to voice them. And I'm fairly certain that if you wanted to take some time away from the capital then he'd allow it. Believe me, when I was eighteen I didn't want anything to do with politics. I packed up my things and travelled the world with the money that was supposed to go to college. I realized after I grew up a little that I could benefit from an education and worked hard after that, but you can only learn so much if you're confined to the same place your whole life."
Rosa sighed. "Yes, I'm starting to realize this. My entire life…I've…I don't think I've ever left Erusea," she said, the realization settling in. "Unless you count a visit or two to Selatapura recently." Selatapura was the closest that she'd ever been to leaving her own country, seeing that it was an independent city with little ties to Erusea. She'd never seen the rest of the Usean continent, she'd never travelled to any other countries across the globe. She'd had pictures framed in her bedroom of the city of Gracemeria in Emmeria, of their great 'Golden King' and the King's Bridge. Other pictures that she'd printed and framed were of Dinsmark, Belka's capital. And of Chopinburg Rainforest. But none of these places she'd ever been herself. She'd always been watching through someone else's eyes, never realizing how much she wanted to visit them until now. She let out another sigh, finishing off her tea and setting the empty cup down. "I never asked to become the Princess. Or General Parrish's spokesperson."
"And you should get the choice. Your father isn't being fair on you, if you ask me. To accuse you of betraying your own family simply because you had a change of heart about the war is absurd." Henri must have realized what he'd said, and gave a nervous smile when her blue eyes widened in shock and turned on him. He didn't reply right away. At last, after looking around to make sure that no one was listening in, he continued, "I'm sorry, I said too much. It's just that…I overheard Parrish and your father speaking. They think that Labarthe is possibly a traitor to Erusea, since he was never fully behind the war, especially when he learned of the drone development and usage. And now they think that he's gotten to you and brainwashed you into thinking like him or something ridiculous like that. The General's words, not your father's, although he did agree with them to some extent."
"Oh." Rosa looked down at her hands for a moment, processing the information for herself. So now, after she'd taken a risk in speaking her mind, her father believed her to be disloyal to Erusea. But that was absurd. She loved her home, which is why she wanted the war to come to an end. Erusea was losing territory, and the drones that they were relying on to defend it were dropping at a rapid pace. How much more would they be able to take before Osea made it to their home? Before they launched an actually successful attack on Farbanti and drove the Eruseans from their own territory? And all because of a pointless structure that a foolish man chose to construct on soil that wasn't their own. Rosa placed one head on Leo, running her hands through his thick fur in hopes to keep her thoughts together. "And what do you think of this war, Henri?"
Henri only shrugged, pushing himself up from the couch and straightening out his suit. "I really shouldn't say, Princess. I support whatever decision the King decides, provided that it truly is his decision and not simply parroting another person's ideals."
She looked up at him and studied his face. "I'd like an honest answer to this last question, Henri," Rosa said as firmly and with as much authority as she could muster at the moment. "Do you believe that my family has been misguided in this war?"
He gave her a gentle smile. "I observe and listen and remember more than I probably should. But when your job is protecting someone no matter what and from anyone, then you stay vigilant and aware of any possible threats." Henri glanced at the doorway as if he was expecting someone to be standing there, then his eyes flitted back to Rosa. "Trust me. Most politicians, if not all, are corrupt to some extent. And sometimes it's other politicians that helped them get that way. I know a certain retired General that does a good job of masking the fact that he's only in this game for his own personal reasons. Just keep an eye out, Princess. With the way things are going, and Osea having this new ace…unless Erusea starts putting up a real fight and relying less on their drones, we aren't going to have much of a chance and it's going to take years to recover from a loss at this scale." He took a look at his watch and then nodded to her. "I should get going, Princess. Goodnight. And, erm…good luck."
"Goodnight, Henri," Rosa called after him, watching as he made a swift exit and turned down the hallway to make for the front door. She waited a few minutes before she got up and shut and locked the living room doors, sitting back on the couch after she cut off the lights. Grabbing the TV remote and turning it on, it automatically displayed the news. The Erusean News Network, this time as opposed to OBC. To her surprise, she saw her own face appear on the screen. It was an older broadcast, from a few months before. With a heavy sigh, leaning her head onto her hand, she finally got to see how naive she'd truly been all this time. She hated every word that came out of her own mouth. Because they weren't really hers. She'd been a puppet this whole time, and she wanted it to stop.
September 1st, 2019.
1500hrs.
Several days had passed and Naomi hadn't been allowed anywhere near a plane in that time. Truth be told she was starting to feel the effects of it, so used to flying and not even being allowed near a plane. Everyone else, on the other hand, was allowed to go up and fly for practice, leaving her on the ground with nothing to do. In fact, she was pretty sure that Wiseman was scheduling extra training just to rub it in her face, which she would admit that she deserved. Bored and stressed, she spent most of her time in her quarters, by herself and away from the others. Her own makeshift solitary to sort out her problems for herself except it was air conditioned and she was allowed to eat. And she'd had a lot of time to think, too, so it wasn't so bad.
After these days went by, she was surprised when everyone was called into a briefing. Naomi was the last to hear about and the last to arrive from the looks of things. When she entered the room, everyone was sitting in their usual place. All of the pilots were relaxing in their seats, Strider Squadron beside Cyclops in the front. When the door closed behind her, they all looked over their shoulders at her before muttering something to themselves. Her own squadron put on sympathetic expressions as she took a seat beside them, but she ignored in and kept her gaze straight ahead at the screen. She caught Wiseman's eye, and the two stared each other down as the screen lit up. As always, it displayed the Usean continent. Big surprise. She was actually starting to hate this place. With a passion.
Hawkins cleared his throat and began the briefing. "Well, now that we're all here I guess it's about time we get started on the briefing," he began. "Er…okay. Here goes. The destruction of one of their Arsenal Birds has significantly reduced the scale of Erusea's air defense network. Osean forces have moved into the areas where we gained air superiority and freed over half of the Usean continent." Whereas most of the screen continent used to display red to show the Erusean's possession of it, most of the continent was now blue and the Erusean territory was now almost confined to their own country. Naomi was impressed. It seemed that Erusea wasn't quite so fierce without one of their precious, stolen Arsenal Birds.
Long Caster continued for him, and the screen centered on a mountain range deep in eastern Erusea, "However, Erusea is feeling the pressure and is reacting by attempting to activate the ballistic missile base in the suburbs of Sierraplata. For the past seventy two hours, they've put their resources and people into action. And have already entered the final stages of a launch." The screen zoomed once again into one of the launch sites, displaying a white, 3D image of the IRBM. Everyone let out a surprised breath or impressed whistles at the sight, all of them well aware of the destruction it could cause if it were to reach its target. Long Caster nodded to it. "Take a good look at it. The missile silo is deep underground. To destroy it, we'll need a bomber to drop a huge deep-penetration bomb in a precise place. Unfortunately, the airspace is thick with clouds at the moment, so it'll be difficult for a bomber to hit the target accurately."
Wiseman took over, tapping the screen and allowing it to show how thick the cloud cover was over the mountain range. He turned back to look them all over. "Normally, we'd have to wait for the weather to clear, but with the situation being what it is, we don't have that option. So, we will have be the bomber's eyes and find the missile silo. You'll all be equipped with targeting pods instead of special weapons." He tapped the screen again and it displayed a small blue arrowhead to represent a plane, bobbing along as it made its way towards the silo. "We need you to fly at low altitude, visually identify which silo they're activating, then acquire it with your targeting pod." The little 3D arrowhead found its target, circling around it as the larger arrowhead that represented the bomber closed in on the position. "Once you press the firing switch, the bombers will drop their payload based on the location data provided by the targeting pod. You will need to keep the silo in the center of your sight until the bomb hits its target, or else it will miss entirely."
The company commander paused, narrowing his eyes on the pilots sitting in front of him. Naomi gulped but returned the stare as his gaze lingered on her for a moment. He kept his expression blank, and Naomi actually would have called his posture smug as he wrapped up the briefing. "It takes a high level of airmanship to properly guide these bombs to their targets while flying a plane. Naturally, we assume the enemy has positioned anti-air artillery and aircraft in the area of operations, so stay alert." The LRSSG emblem now was displayed over the map of their AO and beside it was Cyclops and Strider's emblems, side by side with a list of the current roster underneath them in tiny lettering. "Additionally, we suffered human and material losses in the last battle, so Cyclops Squadron will sit this one out." As Wiseman said this, Cyclops Squadron's emblem darkened from blue and gold to grayscale with the words 'Not Sortie' displayed next to it. Wiseman crossed his arms and his cool stare returned to Naomi. It still surprised her when he called out her name, "Trigger, it's up to you to make this work with just Strider Squadron. You leave first thing tomorrow morning, so I'd suggest everyone go and get ready. Good luck out there, everyone."
Naomi just stared at the screen as the shock settled in. Eventually it changed to panic, but she kept that hidden from those around her as the screen cut out and the windows were opened. The others all dispersed, but she stood up and got a closer look at the screen. By now it displayed Strider Squadron's roster for the mission, lining up their ID photos with their TAC names and real names side by side underneath the Strider and LRSSG emblems. Naomi narrowed her eyes on the person placed in the number two position, and she wasn't sure if she felt relief, surprise, or annoyance. She looked over at Wiseman, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Major, is there a reason why Count has been reassigned as Strider 2? Is Skald doing alright?"
By now, Long Caster and Commander Hawkins had stepped out in the hallway to actually inform Skald of this apparent change. Count, upon hearing his name, stopped and turned around, making his way back across the room to stand beside Naomi and wear a matching look of confusion. They both exchanged a look before turning back to Wiseman. He looked up at them and smiled at them. "Skald's doing fine," he said with a shrug. "Aside from that busted lip, which looks pretty painful if I'm honest, but doesn't keep him from flying. What keeps him from flying is the fact that he trashed his plane taking a missile for you. Until the Scrap Queen can fix it up properly, I don't know how he's going to be flying. But Count's not injured and his plane works just fine, so I figured that I'd go for it."
"So you just rearrange my squadron without talking to me about it first?" Naomi asked him in a level tone, crossing her arms.
"Actually, until you prove yourself as a capable leader, it isn't your squadron," Wiseman replied with just as level a tone, although it was clear that the comment hadn't sat well with him. "And tomorrow is when you both prove to me that I didn't make a mistake."
Count let out an irritated huff. "What do I have to do with any of this? Trigger's the one that screwed up."
Naomi opened her mouth to object, and he readied himself to counter whatever argument she had, but Wiseman quickly shut them both up, "Hey! Knock it off!" Their jaws snapped shut at the same time and they turned their attention back to Wiseman as he glared at them, making sure that they were actually keeping quiet before he wasted his breath. "That right there is the exact reason why you have something to do with this, Count. Both of you lack trust and proper teamwork. If you want me to stop treating you like children, then the two of you better get your asses out there and give me a damn good reason to respect your capabilities fully. Tomorrow, you're partners. You work as a team and you watch each others backs. I've already spoken with Jaeger about this and he's going to sit back and let Trigger call the shots and figure out how to lead without any help. Count, you better make sure that she makes it back. Trigger, the same goes for you. Only you're responsibility extends to everyone. Understand me?"
The two sighed and glanced at the other, their expressions softening slightly. "Yes sir," they said at the same time.
"Good," Wiseman said with a firm nod. "Dismissed. You've both got a mission to prep for."
Together, they turned away and started out of the room without a word. Naomi remembered lashing out at him over Stonehenge once again and felt a pang of guilt. Once they were clear of their COs and outside, on their way to the hangars, she tried to find something to say to him. "Count…" she began, but he didn't let her finish.
"Save it, Captain," he sneered at her. Alright, I deserved that, she thought, looking away from him and wincing as if he'd just hit her. For some reason, it felt like he did and she wanted more than anything to apologize to him, but Count wasn't interested in listening. And he made that quite clear as they kept walking. "For the record, I'm not happy about this. So let's just get this over and done with so I don't have to answer to you anymore."
Naomi looked at him, opening her mouth to say something, but she closed it without a word and looked down at her feet. She didn't want to get on his bad side anymore than she already was, so if keeping her mouth shut for the time being was what it took to get back on his good side then that's what she'd do. Not that she was happy about it. To be fair, she probably deserved the lack of respect from him. From all of them, actually. And she fully intended to prove to Wiseman that she could lead properly, and hopefully make it up to Count somehow.