Three Strikes

by bluebellwren

Naomi Foulke - TAC 'Trigger' - the latest in a line of air force prodigies, becomes the OADF's scapegoat when she's wrongfully accused of murdering former President Harling. In the midst of war against Erusea, she's sent to a penal unit to atone. Determined to redeem herself and swiftly end the war, she finds herself facing threats from all sides as she grows from prisoner to hero.

29. Lying In Wait

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lying In Wait

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Spring Sea, Usean Coast.
September 4th, 2019.
1644hrs.

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"Salvation—"

The transmission was cut to static rather abruptly, and the pilot never got to finish what he was going to say. The Alicorn's crew sat in silence for a moment until their captain spoke up. "What just happened?"

Captain Matias Torres had watched as the four blips on the Alicorn's radar vanished suddenly right before they escaped the combat airspace. Just gone, in the blink of an eye. He had a feeling that he knew what happened, but he didn't want to lose all hope just yet. Torres eyed the command duty officer as he waited for an answer, feeling disappointment and anger starting to creep up. The officer nervously checked with other members working on the bridge, then checked radar and the footage from the camera that they had attached to the aircraft so they could watch their plan unfold. At last, he turned around in his chair and answered the captain in a careful voice, "It...it seems they were shot down by Three Strikes."

Torres drew in a shaky breath and took a few steps over to look down at the controls and the different screens, all displaying that the Alicorn's squadron had been shot down and what would have been Torres' defining moment as a captain of a now separate faction — what would have finally set him apart from those that came before him with a similar goal — was lost with them. "The damn bastard ruined it..." he seethed, leaning forward slightly and staring down at the radar that displayed blips of the remaining Osean and the retreating Erusean forces. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, but the more he did this the angrier he became.

His crewmen all exchanged worried looks, the command duty officer finally speaking up, concern lacing his voice, "Captain?"

"Don't you see?" There was a pause and Torres began to slowly lose his composure. Everyone on the bridge froze and then flinched as Torres slammed his fist down onto the screen. It was loud and echoed throughout the room but the screen remained unharmed in spite of the impact. But that wasn't Torres' concern. He couldn't care less if he broke the damned thing. He let out a frustrated growl and jerked upright, eyes still fixed to the radar as he watched the Osean aircraft finally withdraw. His voice rose. "She walked all over it with her DIRTY BOOTS! Over the CRISP, WHITE SHEETS OF MY BED THAT I HAD JUST MADE!"

His breath caught in his throat for a moment and he let out a short cough and allowed his breathing to slow moment by moment as he pulled himself together. He had a plan. He had to have a plan. Torres looked around the bridge as the crew seemed to relax slightly, though anxiety seemed to glitter in their eyes. A small smile crept onto his face and he interlocked his hands behind his back as he began to pace slowly. He chuckled. "Let's have this Three Strikes assist in our next plan," he said to them. "Three Strikes will make a fine sideshow in our scheme to kill a million people..." Torres' eyes narrowed on the command duty officer, his expression hardening. "Or was it the plan to save ten million lives, Command Duty Officer?"

"To save ten million lives, sir," the officer answered as though it should have been common knowledge. He looked unsure for a moment. "But sir...Osea has Three Strikes...how are we supposed to use her in our own plan? Oseans are known for being stubbornly devoted to their country. Almost as much as Belka. You'd never be able to get her to assist you."

Torres raised an eyebrow and smiled again. "Oh, she'll be assisting us. But she won't be aware of it. You see, we're going to slowly tip the odds in our favor and Three Strikes can take care of the Erusean forces that may try and get in our way." He paused, quickly thinking of a way to motivate and explain to his men how their plan would be able to work. Recalling one of his favorite pastimes, he continued, "Think of it as a fast paced game of chess. White moves first, coming up with a quick strategy to start the game and challenge their opponent. Black goes next and is given more time to strategize instead of making a split second decision. I like to sacrifice a pawn right at the start to test the waters. The pawn still holds value, regardless of what one might tell you. They lead the charge and their fate can help you determine possible outcomes — whether you're fighting an aggressive player that acts on chance or a more merciful one that waits for a better opportunity to make a more meaningful kill.

"This gives you the upper hand as you can calculate your next moves according to what kind of an opponent you have." He paused to catch his breath, glancing around to make sure no one would interrupt. He went on. "Three Strikes is Osea's ace up their sleeve, so to speak. They've been parading this pilot around and they think that the extent of our knowledge is just that some Osean ace is wrecking Erusea's forces. Our intelligence, however, has managed to dig up everything except for her real name and age — well, Lieutenant Saxon has managed to get his hands on everything but that or so he says. We can use this information to our advantage — find out Three Strikes' weaknesses and exploit them in battle."

"But...how would you have any way of knowing this?"

Torres blinked in surprise as he heard the command duty officer's question, as though he thought he wasn't paying enough attention. It was a valid question. Torres had an idea how, but he wasn't sure if it would work or not. But it would be interesting. He waved the question off. "One step at a time, Command Duty Officer. One step at a time." He sighed as he took a seat, his legs aching slightly from the prolonged period of standing and pacing. "For now, we need to move on to the next part of our plan. Three Strikes made her move, so now it's time for us to make ours. We're going to get to play puppetmaster to a much larger scale game between Osea and Erusea. Let's find out what happens when some more valuable pieces are eliminated from Erusea's side of the board, shall we?"

The Command Duty Officer seemed to pause and think about it for a moment longer. "And how are we to go about that?"

"Get me in touch with Lieutenant Saxon as soon as you can," Torres answered, evading the question. He wasn't happy about killing their fellow countrymen, but they refused to see reason. Besides, it wasn't as if they were being killed by Torres and his crew. They were just setting them up for it. Whatever it took for them to finally learn and throw down their weapons. Torres took a moment, resting his head in his head as he stared ahead. "He has the contacts within the Osean chain of command that we lack. I have no doubt that he'll be more than willing to continue assisting us, don't you agree?" He didn't wait for an answer from the officer, and he didn't give him one. "The world will finally see, and we're all about to bring about a new era of peace."

---

Erusean Air Base, Near Expo City.
September 5th, 2019.
0600hrs.

Two figures stood side by side outside of an old hangar, their only source of light coming from the inside. It was still dark, seeing as how early in the morning it was, and the sky was still a dark blue and only just starting to get lighter as the morning continued. Stars were starting to fade away, but dark clouds were starting to form and told the base's residents to prepare for any unexpected weather. A cold breeze continued to consistently sweep the base, bringing leaves from nearby trees with it. The smell of rain carried with it, which meant that the rest of the week most likely wouldn't go without a storm. Everyone was starting to bring aircraft and other vehicles inside as a result, apparently not wanting to have to deal with cleanup after a storm.

Although activity around base was beginning to pick up, they avoided the hangar where the odd pair were standing. That was 'their' hangar and their signature aircraft were housed within. And only their aircraft. It wasn't as though the duo were any more or less odd as the rest of the base. In fact, one could consider them normal if not for their personalities. The base itself was headed by a colonel in support of one of Erusea's political leaders, General Parrish, and it was home to Eruseans that disagreed with their conservative countrymen and Oseans that had defected either out of fear, hatred, or because Parrish and his supporters managed to buy them out for intel. A ragtag base made up of former Oseans and soon to be considered 'loyalist' Eruseans, all of them hailing from the Air Force all the way down to the Coast Guard.

But these two particular pilots were part of a mercenary unit headed by no particular country. No one knew much about them, and no one had the nerve to ask. They appeared to be twins, both of them bearing the same sharp features and an almost intimidating height. They had more in common than just their height and build, also sporting the same icy blue eyes and unruly blonde hair, making it even more obvious that they were related. They were never apart, and if they were apart it wasn't for very long. Even their temperament matched, both of them being short tempered and quick for a fight. But the brother — known by his TAC name, Rage — was the more grounded and patient of the two in spite of his name. His sister, Scream, always followed his lead for the most part but never lost the permanently irritated attitude.

They fought for neither Osea nor Erusea, seeming to hate both of them, and simply set up base with whichever was the highest bidder. Were an Osean to approach them and tell them to take out an Erusean, or even another Osean, they'd gladly accept. In fact, that was why they were there. They'd been hired by an Osean — more than one, actually — to take out the Osean ace Three Strikes. One of their employers had defected to Erusea, and since the siblings had a common enemy with the Eruseans, they were allowed to stay there. That wasn't to say that they didn't face hostility because of this. Several Eruseans didn't trust having them there, and several of the Osean defectors didn't either. They steered clear, and the siblings were happy this way. Or their 'allies' assumed that they were happy.

Right now, though, it was obvious that neither of them were happy. And they hadn't been since they'd returned from their sortie the day before. Rage had been avoiding talking to his sister as much as possible, and if he couldn't avoid it then he kept his comments short and to the point. She could tell that he was upset with her, and being the more talkative of the two the silent treatment was obviously getting to her. As they stood side by side in the light of the hangar, their shadows and the shadows of their Berkuts stretching out across the pavement, Scream couldn't stand still. Rage kept his eyes on the sky, ignoring his sister's antsy movements as she tried to find a way to cope with the awkward silence.

Distant chatter from the crewmen and their movements had briefly caught her attention, but it wasn't long before she began to scrape her boot across the ground and sigh in frustration. It was something she'd done as far back as Rage could remember. He knew the tactic well, having tried it once or twice himself. Whenever Rage was upset and didn't speak with his sister, she realized that she could annoy him into talking. She would refuse to leave him alone with his thoughts and act as childish and loud as she could until he'd finally demand that she stop. He'd become mostly resistant to it now that he was older and they were both adults, but she hadn't done it in a while and he was finding it hard to cope with.

He glanced down at her foot as she continued to stamp and scrape at the ground like some kind of caged animal. Over and over and over again. Just like when we were kids...ugh. At last he'd had enough. With a jerking movement, he whipped his head around to look directly at her, scowling. That was exactly what she wanted, judging by how the sound immediately ceased and she stood still with an innocent look on her face. Although she could probably guess what he wanted, he snapped at her anyways. "Would you just stop already? Jesus! You're driving me insane!"

Scream stuck out her lower, pierced lip, forming an overly exaggerated pout. "C'mon, Rage! I'm boooored."

That was her only defense? Rage wondered, rolling his eyes and scoffing as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "That's not my problem," he replied shortly, turning his attention back to the sky and attempting to ignore her again. Maybe now she'd give up.

"What is your problem?" Of course she didn't give up. Now she was taking advantage of the window that he'd opened up. Idiot.

"What do you mean by that?" Rage asked her, glancing her way and maintaining his scowl.

"I mean that you've been acting weird ever since we got back from that fight," Scream replied quickly, almost letting out her own scoff of disbelief. Instead she gave him an intent, frustrated look. "You didn't talk to me on the flight back, you didn't talk to me when we landed, then you skipped dinner and went straight to bed, and now you're ignoring me." She tilted her head to one side, the hair that was typically styled to fall in front of the right side of her face falling away and allowing her to look at him clearly. "Can't the mighty Rage tell me what's wrong instead of acting like a little child?"

Rage snorted. "You're one to talk about acting like a child, Scream." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She wasn't about to let the topic go, and he had a lot of pent up anger about what had happened during their sortie. Might as well go ahead and get it out. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just let go. He'd never not been honest with her before, especially when he was mad at her. "But you really wanna know what my problem is? My problem is that you disobeyed me during the operation. You shot down an Erusean fighter, wasting missiles on him — which are supplies that I have to pay for, by the way. Then when I finally get you to sync up with me, you decide to not listen when I gave you an order and got yourself shot. Now we have repairs and you might have cost us the entire deal. That's why we're out here. Because I had to call a meeting with the morons that hired us to make sure that your screw up isn't going to cost us more than it already has."

He caught her reaction, and just for a moment his sister almost looked hurt by the comment. Scream crossed her arms and frowned, looking away from him as she spoke, "Jeez, sorry. It's not my fault that you were too busy dancing with Three Strikes wingman to actually go through with the original plan. I did my part and opened her up for a shot while you were too busy chasing after that goon..."

"There you go, trying to turn every mistake you make back around on me!" Rage threw up his hands in exasperation, scoffing as he did. "You know that if I hadn't made the call to retreat then you'd be dead? I saved your life and I don't even get a 'thank you' for putting up with all this shit." It sounded as if Scream mumbled an apology and Rage let out a defeated sigh. He wasn't good at 'deep' talks but he was starting to feel bad about yelling at her. "Look, it's just you and I, Scream. It's been like that for years now. You've got to stop being so reckless. What if Three Strikes had actually shot you down, huh? I'm harsh on you because I don't want to lose you, and I very well could have yesterday. I need to know that I can count on you to listen to me and stop taking so many unnecessary risks."

"You worry too much, Rage," Scream said flippantly, waving it off. "We'll be fine. It's not like this is our first job."

"It's the first one where we've taken down an ace like Three Strikes. Remember what one of those guys said: do not underestimate Three Strikes," Rage replied. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he felt another cold wind blow past. Shivering slightly, he took a deep breath and continued. "For once someone actually studied their target and gave us some insight. Heh. Guy was right. Three Strikes won't shoot down a retreating aircraft. Or rather, it's rare that she does. I have to wonder what kind of a person would be so awful that your own former commanding officer wants you dead, though. Or what kind of an officer would want one of their own subordinates dead..."

"Oh please, like we don't know the type." Scream also shivered, trying to play it off like she wasn't cold as she shifted her position a few times. She glanced at Rage with a scowl on her face. "You know what they call guys like him? A shitbag."

Rage rolled his eyes. Scream hadn't been shy about hiding her distaste for their 'employers' and openly mocked and called them names, whether they were present or not. Rage was tired of arguing with her on it and he was tired of hearing the same string of insults. 'Shitbag' was a new one, though. "Alright, fine, he's a shitbag," he conceded. He put on a small smile as he added in a somewhat hushed tone, "But regardless of that, he pays well."

"Yeah, that's true," Scream chirped. She gave an almost menacing chuckle. "I mean, c'mon? Full price? They must really want her dead."

"You've seen the havoc that Three Strikes has caused," Rage pointed out. "Why wouldn't they want her dead? She's a menace, and so long as she's in the skies the world is never going to know peace. Just fear and chaos. It's pilots like her that end up shaping the world, and it's rarely in a good way..." There was more that he wanted to say, but he stopped it as he noticed two figures approaching them. He sighed. Just the people that they were waiting for. He looked to Scream again. "Okay, this time could you watch your mouth, Scream? They hate us enough as it is."

"Pfft! Oh, please. Like I'm the reason for that." Scream fixed her gaze on the approaching men, very disinterested. "I just don't like the guy. If you're going to betray your country, you shouldn't keep all the titles and medals you earned while you were their little lapdog. Now he's Erusea's lapdog but still dresses like some stuffy old Osean colonel."

"He is a stuffy old Osean colonel. You're right, though." Rage went quiet as soon as the pair were within earshot of the siblings' conversation. He lowered his voice so only they could hear as he added, "Just let me do the talking."

He took a moment just to look over the pair and their appearance, and sure enough, Scream was spot on with her description. The older of the two, Three Strikes' former commander, was shorter and wore an Osean uniform, complete with the country's flag and his rank and name at the time that he escaped from the military police's custody. The other still held his rank in Osea, and had wanted to hire them simply to get Three Strikes out of the way for his own reasons, all of which were the exact opposite of personal. It was entirely business with him. Unlike his companion, he wore a navy blue suit with a matching tie and had a more distinguished air about him. Of the two of them, he was definitely the easiest to tolerate.

They exchanged a very forced, polite greeting between the four of them, Rage gave Scream a pointed look as a silent reminder to keep her behavior in check. This led to very exaggerated and quite obviously sarcastic politeness. Both men brushed it off with a deep breath and an agitated look, but they didn't bring it up and it seemed as though they wanted to cut right to the chase. The younger of the two — Brigadier General Clemens, if Rage remembered correctly — looked between the two of them, and his eyes gave away how tired he was. "I don't have the time for any small talk. I had to drive to Expo City last minute and I want to hurry the return trip along before anyone realizes that I'm gone," he said quickly. "I also want to know that the money we paid you isn't going to go to waste."

Rage pretended to be confused. "Why would you think that it would?"

The older of the two and the one that knew Three Strikes personally — technically former Colonel McKinsey — scoffed at this. "You can stop with the bullshit. You know damn well why we'd think that," he said. He always spoke in an irritable, aggressive tone and seemed constantly pissed off and full of himself. Rage gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything that he might regret and allowed McKinsey to continue. "I have a personal stake in this, and I know that in some way you do too. So explain to me why Three Strikes is still alive and why you ran from that fight like you did?"

"Our planes took damage, but we can just get her on the next run." Rage answered simply with a shrug. He paused and narrowed his eyes. "Or is the contract terminated? I should warn you, we don't offer refunds."

McKinsey didn't seem impressed by that. "Look, I gave you all valuable information. I practically handed you Trigger on a silver platter, and this is how you repay me? Even you, Clemens, and the general that was stupid enough to give you funding." Clemens looked a bit put off by the comment, and frowned as McKinsey went on. "We all want Three Strikes dead. She ruined my career, killed countless people in her attacks, and she's becoming a crutch to both Osean and Erusean forces. Osea relies on their aces too much and Erusea relies on her appearance as an excuse to escape from a battle. They're both becoming lazy. As for you two...I have no idea what you get out of this, but the point is that it's personal for all of us so I want you to do whatever you have to in order to kill Trigger."

Scream seemed on board with that, seeming to perk up and ball her fist as though she was eager for a fight whether in the air or on the ground. Clemens didn't look as sure of this, but he didn't argue much. "I want to talk to Lieutenant General Shepherd first," he replied, citing yet another Osean that was in on the deal. Rage resisted the urge to groan in annoyance. Oseans were so frustrating to deal with sometimes, always having to go through the most complex channels possible for a simple operation. Clemens seemed to sense their annoyance, as McKinsey was not so good in hiding it, and he rushed to justify his plan. "Look, this is mostly his dime that I'm on. He gave me the funding and this is all my idea. We needed some extra cash and you—" he nodded towards McKinsey, "—stepped in and offered the rest because you wanted payback. But I'm just as much an authority as you are. I have the right to postpone it if I want."

"Fine. Do whatever you like. Just remember that if I get too impatient, I have plenty of dirt on you and General Shepherd that I could anonymously let slip. Believe it or not, you aren't that important and you're not that high up the chain of command." McKinsey spoke with an obvious air of superiority about him, in spite of being outranked by the Brigadier General. It didn't seem to bother him, and Rage knew that he was older and in spite of his rank probably had more experience in such matters. Knowing his past, Rage also suspected that he had plenty more experience in blackmail. The pompous old colonel looked over at Rage and his sister next and fixed them with an almost threatening look. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so I'll be around to tell you what Clemens and Shepherd finally decide. Until we achieve the result that we want or until we decide if your services are still needed, ultimately you're under our command. Or rather, my command. Given the hellhole that I helped pull you out of, I'm hoping that won't be an issue."

Rage and Scream both tensed at his comment, not liking the feeling of being under anyone's command least of all McKinsey's. They had plenty of experience dealing with people like him and they didn't want to go back to it. But Rage recognized that they had to play along, as though they actually planned on submitting to either one's authority. He dipped his head almost in a respectful manner, earning the shock of his sister. "Of course, Colonel," he said, ignoring Scream's growing confusion and anger. "Whatever you say. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some preparations for our next meeting with Three Strikes. Including some research on her wingmen should we run into them again. And I'm sure that Clemens needs to make it back to the LRSSG before anyone gets suspicious. Wouldn't want them to know where you were all night, would you?"

Clemens let out an irritated huff. "They won't be an issue," he said, tugging on his suit jacket a bit as he was met for the first time by the wind that had been plaguing the base all morning. "I probably should be going though. At least if I make it back by breakfast then the security guards probably won't say anything to the base commander." He took a deep breath, fiddling with his tie and smoothing out his suit and hair as he turned to McKinsey. "We'll be in touch. We may have to raise the price and I'm sure that General Shepherd would appreciate anything extra you can offer. In the meantime, keep your head down and I'll try and keep the LRSSG from finding out you're involved."

"Wouldn't be the worst thing ever if they did." McKinsey chuckled. He glanced at Rage and Scream. "It'd give me an excuse to get rid of Trigger myself and look her in the eyes when I do. It'd be the perfect revenge, hehe...but my hands are dirty enough as it is. Anyways. You better get going. I'll call if anything changes." With a firm handshake and a quick nod, plus a glare sent towards Rage and Scream, Clemens was off and he left McKinsey with the twins. They watched him leave before McKinsey sighed and looked their way again. "I'll get together the rest of the files I have on Three Strikes and her wingmen. I want you to study them, and next time you better finish the job."

Rage put on a smug smile as McKinsey turned away from them. "But of course. We wouldn't want anyone thinking we screwed up, now would we?" His comment received no answer as McKinsey continued on his way, not bothering to look back at them as he went. Rage promptly wiped the smile off of his face, changing it to a sneer as he let out a groan of disgust. "That McKinsey really should learn to watch his back. It's how he got into this dump anyways. God, I'm tired of this war."

He turned around and ventured into the hangar, doing a quick scan of the room to check for the tools they'd need for repairs and some new adjustments to their ECM. If they got this wrong then it would be the end of their career. They'd come to far to just drop it now, and they needed a way to ensure that their reputation was a good one among their peers. Taking down the wannabe hero Three Strikes was a perfect way to do that. Scream, however, was more interested in the fact that they seemed to be submitting to authority. And an Osean's authority at that.

She followed him into the hangar with a shocked, almost offended look on her face. "You want to tell me why you just rolled over and took the Oseans' crap like that?" she asked him, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her eyes. Scream placed her hands on her hips and waited for a response, chewing at her lip piercing as she did. Rage looked at her as though he didn't understand what she was talking about, and truth be told he had expected his sister of all people to understand his subtle behavior and reactions. Apparently they couldn't read each other as flawlessly as everyone — including themselves — liked to think. So much for twin telepathy.

"Well, you want to take down Three Strikes, don't you?" Rage asked her at last and she nodded. "Well then we have to play the game. Osea's the highest bidder right now. If we get a better offer, we take it, be it from more Oseans or even from the Eruseans. Once we get enough, we'll strike out on our own and look for someone else to take out. There's always a bigger fish, you just gotta know where to look for 'em. And if they terminate their contract with us, we've still got their money. With or without it, we're doing this, though."

"That doesn't explain why you just let those idiots walk all over you," Scream replied.

"I want them to think they have the upper hand. They're playing a game, albeit not as political of one as I was expecting," Rage said as he picked up a couple of tools and inspected them, trying to make a mental list of what all they'd need to use. "You have to play along, or at least make it seem like you are. What they don't realize is that we've already got their money. We work by our own conditions, not theirs, especially now. Even if it doesn't trick them into some sort of false sense of security, it's still fun to watch them squirm when you don't do what they want."

Scream seemed satisfied with the answer and finally seemed to get it, grinning suddenly. "I like the way you think, Rage."

Rage smiled as well. "Good, that was the plan all along. Now why don't you give me a hand with this so we can get repairs done faster?"

"That way of thinking, I don't like so much..." Scream said with an annoyed huff, but reluctantly accepted the pair of tools that he handed her and walked off to go and work on her plane.

Rage shook his head as he watched his sister go. "Yeah, didn't think you would...heh...idiot."

---

New Arrows Air Base, Eastern Usea.
September 7th, 2019.
1221hrs.

Everyone around base could tell that something wasn't right. There had been a noticeable shift in the mood around base, and the usually confident and carefree soldiers were suddenly suspicious and anxious about the whole operation. Of course, any rumors and discussion had been shut down by their esteemed guest. He'd barely been there over a day, and already Clemens had made it clear that until the problem was resolved there was no speculations to be had. It was odd that he called it a 'problem' after saying that the mission had been a success. The Alicorn got away and they lost most of their fleet. It didn't sound like a success, but whenever someone other than the brigadier general pointed this out they were quickly reprimanded. At least, whenever he was in earshot of it. There were to be no secrets and no conspiracy theories.

Of course, Clemens spent surprisingly little time bringing himself down to their 'level'. Count and Bandog had both joked that he was too good to mingle with the commoners and everyone had come to start calling the guy 'His Highness' considering the way he acted as though everyone was supposed to worship the ground he walked on. Everyone could tell that there was some extra tension between Clemens and Bandog, though, even if no one had the nerve to bring it up. Bandog went out of his way to diss the guy, and if they were unlucky enough to carry out a conversation then Bandog would always make a few jabs at him. It was weird, but no one had the nerve to bring it up after he shut down Húxiān when she asked about it.

In spite of all of this, everyone seemed to continue mostly like normal. All of the pilots went about their regular duties and everyone talked about whatever they wanted to. Everyone met in the mess hall for lunch as usual, and things were as noisy as they always were. No one complained though. Fencer was speaking with Tailor about his own flying style, which included a lecture on when not to push your luck with a damaged plane and when you could possibly make it. Jaeger joined in every now and then, but he seemed content with sharing stories with Tabloid, Lanza, and Skald. Húxiān and Bandog were listening to said stories, throwing in a few questions here and there, while Count sat next to Naomi and seemed to be paying close attention to the TV (which was — unsurprisingly — playing OBC). Avril sat on Naomi's other side, seeming to pay little attention to anything other than what she was writing down. Naomi guessed it was some request for new supplies, but didn't have any real desire to know what exactly it was.

But Naomi was paying about as much attention to everything going on around her as she could without feeling overwhelmed. There was a lot of conversation and then the information that the OBC's newscaster was giving them. Apparently someone in Osea had already gotten their hands on information regarding the Alicorn and had somehow received permission from someone in the chain of command to write a story on it and broadcast it. Naomi knew that the Osean government would, surprisingly, be competent enough to keep any sensitive material under wraps, but she worried that OBC was poking its nose where it didn't belong. The last thing they needed was widespread panic throughout either Osea or on the Usean continent because a submarine got away. Everyone still vividly remembered the sub's predecessors, the Scinfaxi and its sister, the Hrimfaxi, and there was no telling how they'd react if they had a threat from that thing.

Naomi hadn't gotten much sleep over the last few nights, worrying too much about the submarine and whatever was up with their visitor. It seemed like every time they made progress and a step forward towards Farbanti, something was still going to come up. First they had to take care of one of the Arsenal Birds and then the IRBMs that Erusea pulled out of nowhere and now they had a submarine to chase down. So much for their plan to capture it. Now they'd have to hunt it down. It reminded her all to much of something out of some old war drama, like from a book she'd read or something like that. Either way, she had a hunch that it wasn't going to be easy to take it out.

"I wonder how long it's going to be before Clemens complains about the news playing this and gets the TV shut off," Count said with a laugh as he set his glass of soda down and crossed his arms. This got Naomi, Bandog, and Húxiān's attention, and the others slowly brought their own conversations to a halt to hear what he had to say. He shrugged at the sudden attention on him and went on without a care. "Seriously. It's like he doesn't want to admit that it's pretty much his fault that the operation didn't go as planned, and any reminder he gets sends him into some weird tantrum."

"Oh, please. Like you lot have anything to really complain about." Bandog gave a scoff, petting Sarge's head as she rested it on his lap. He kept his eyes on her as he spoke to everyone else. "Try being stuck with the guy as your commanding officer for months. He's pretty much like McKinsey but even more of a narcissist."

Everyone was thinking pretty much the same thing. There was an opportunity presenting itself to them. Everyone was curious about Bandog to some degree, but there was so little that he ever shared and his constantly being guarded typically made it hard to see him as anything more than a colleague. It was difficult to really accept him into a group or as a friend when you didn't know anything about him. But even when he shared personal things with them it always seemed like he was too uncomfortable to go any further. They sat in silence for a few seconds, as if waiting for someone else to ask first, but finally it was Húxiān that once again took the first step, glaring at the rest of them when she did. "You never did tell us what the deal with you and him is. I get why we don't like him, but what'd you do to piss the guy off? And vice versa?"

Bandog looked around at the others uncomfortably, then looked at Húxiān with a look that Naomi didn't understand and one that she'd never seen from him before. It was almost as if he was debating going into detail for a few minutes, but he finally just shrugged and looked back down at Sarge as she began to paw at his hand and ask for more attention. He went back to petting her as he answered Húxiān's question in the vaguest possible way. "A while back we had a difference of opinion and things escalated a little too quickly. He got promoted after it and I got reprimanded. Simple as that."

Húxiān frowned, obviously not satisfied with the answer. None of the others seemed to be either. Naomi especially. If there was anything they needed to know about Clemens, they had a right to ask him. Technically speaking, she or any of the others could just order him to give up the information, but Naomi wasn't sure that he'd listen. He'd probably just ignore the order anyways as payback for all the times that she, Count, and Tabloid ignored him in Spare Squadron. Naomi glanced around at the others and then over at Bandog. "Just a 'difference of opinion'? That's all there is to it?"

He scowled and adopted a rigid posture, clearly not happy with the prodding. "Yeah, it is." Bandog took a breath as if to keep his temper in check and went on. "Look, you all know as well as anyone how many self-absorbed jerks get promoted, while actually potentially good leaders are thrown off to the side and left to rot. McKinsey, Clemens, and who knows how many others. They're all the same. Good commanders that don't write you up for every tiny step out of line or any accident that they don't like? Yeah. Few and far between." He looked around the table, specifically at the members of Cyclops Squadron and grumbled, "You guys have no idea how lucky you are to have people like Hawkins and Wiseman in charge."

Count snorted. "Like they're any better," he said. Everyone turned to look at him, Húxiān seeming more angry at Count's comment than anyone else. Not bothered by everyone looking at him, he just chuckled. "You actually think that Wiseman doesn't benefit from us being in his squadron? Think about it. He swoops in like some knight and takes those that are 'troubled' or whatever under his wing, then let's 'em go out and blow shit up. He looks like a good guy and a good teacher and gets all the credit while those of us that do actual work get nothing out of it. Clemens and Wiseman are one in the same. Deep down you all know it, but you're too busy kissing his ass to care."

Tailor gave an indignant huff at this. "That's not entirely true, Lieutenant O'Connor. The major's never gotten a medal as far as I know."

"He deserves one, though," Skald said to them. He looked towards Count and frowned. "Trust me, Count. You'll feel the same way eventually."

Everyone nodded or said something in agreement, and Naomi noticed that Avril was the only one that appeared to agree with Count. She then noticed that he looked a little bothered by everyone disagreeing and a little unconvinced. He looked at her as if asking what she thought of it, and she noticed that the others did too. She shrugged. "I've met people like McKinsey and Clemens through most of my life. I've heard stories of people like them and Wiseman and Hawkins most certainly don't fit the bill for your average, stuck up military commander," she said to Count. "Maybe you think you're good enough on your own, Count, but you can't deny that we've already learned a lot from Wiseman and he is a great pilot."

"Alright, so he's got skills. I can give him that, but we all know that the best players don't always make the best coaches," Count pointed out.

"Oh yeah, like you could do any better, Count," Húxiān said, rolling her eyes at his comment.

"I can. I have." Count crossed his arms. "Let's not forget that I won the competition the other day. Which reminds me...you and Trigger owe me fifty bucks."

Húxiān scowled. "You only one because Trigger stepped out of the competition. Otherwise you wouldn't have won shit."

"You've got to be able to put your money where your mouth's at, Count," Fencer put in, almost looking smug. He and Húxiān were the ones that were on Count's case the most. Fencer chuckled, seemingly amused by the entire conversation. "And before long you're going to have to accept that Wiseman and Trigger are the ones at the top around here. Even I can't beat 'em."

"Pssh! Yeah, right!" Count wasn't convinced at all, and seemed very determined to prove that he was right. No one was stepping in to stop an argument from escalating, but there wasn't any need to. It wasn't like this was a new discussion. It was the first time everyone had been involved, though. Naomi couldn't help but wonder why Count seemed to dislike Wiseman, or why they butted heads all the time. Then again, Count disliked just about everyone and everything, if not only for the sake of disliking it. He waved a hand dismissively. "Wiseman should hang back and let the younger generation have a shot for once. He's always hogging the spotlight and — like I said — getting credit for all the efforts we put in. I bet you that I've got twice the kills that Wiseman does and I'm stuck in his shadow."

"That kinda talk is gonna get you killed before long," Jaeger pointed out in an almost bored tone. His eyes betrayed some concern though. Sadness too. "I've seen too many cocky pilots think they knew better than their leader. In a split second of defiance they ended up getting themselves shot down. There's a point at which you have to accept that you have some shortcomings. Sometimes your elders really do know best."

"You know, the Strider 1 before Trigger was like that," Húxiān said, looking back and forth between Naomi and Count. Naomi sat up a little, listening more intently now. They rarely spoke about the members of the squadron that came before Naomi, Count, and Tabloid. Most she knew about them was that they died over Yinshi Valley. Húxiān continued. "He was a lot like you. Both of you, actually. Cocky, reckless, and he had a big mouth. Him thinking he was some tough guy that didn't need Wiseman was what got him killed."

"The old Strider 1 was killed before Yinshi, right? A little while before we met you, right?" Naomi asked and the others nodded. "What exactly happened to him?"

"Mr. X and his squadron happened. We were on our way back from our recon mission to Stonehenge when it happened. Mr. X showed up to intercept and Wiseman ordered everyone to run. None of us would have lasted in a fight with nothing but guns," Jaeger answered her question. "The old Strider 1 had been with us for a while, but he was always a little jealous of all the attention that Wiseman and Cyclops got. Wiseman and I both told him to just fly and look after his wingmen, but he decided he was going to face him alone. Started firing the machine gun head on. Mr. X fired a missile faster. It hit the cockpit and probably killed him instantly. That was when all of us high tailed it out of there."

"It's funny, Count. The two of you were a lot alike," Húxiān said. "Even down to the annoying as cocky laughter. And you, Trigger. You keep flying like you are and you might end up in the same boat as him."

Count and Naomi exchanged a look, but Count brushed off the comment. "We have nothing in common." He grinned suddenly. "And if any of you actually think that the new Strider 1 is gonna get replaced any time soon, you're wrong." She was surprised that Count was actually sticking up for her in some way, even if it was probably only because he wanted to disagree with everyone else. It was still reassuring that he had confidence in her, even if he was probably still upset that she got the number one position instead of him. Either way she gave him an almost playful nudge to get his attention and then followed it with a grateful smile. He glanced at her and seemed to try and force himself not to return the smile as he looked back at Húxiān and smirked as if waiting for her response.

Húxiān looked at them as they both looked at her, Naomi going for a cheeky grin while Count kept his smirk. She rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. "Well, we'll just have to see. Only time will tell."

"Oh, trust me, nothing'll happen to these dumbasses," Avril said to her with a laugh, gesturing to Count, Naomi, and Tabloid. She focused solely on Tabloid for a moment before looking back down at what she'd been writing the entire conversation. "At least not so long as they keep Tabloid's favorite motto."

Everyone looked at him expectantly and he put on a dumb grin. "Stick with Trigger and you'll make it," he said, catching Naomi's eye and winking at her.

She shook her head and chuckled. Although she appreciated the faith that most of them seemed to have in her and her abilities, she wasn't as sure of it as they were. She also still felt as if it wasn't entirely true. Even in Spare — hell, all the way back in Mage — their allies still went down. Tabloid would probably argue that it was because they didn't stick with Trigger, but she could tell that some of them, even Count, were a bit dubious about it. And she'd stay skeptical herself. "You give me way too much credit," she said, trying not to let her own worries and doubt show as she spoke. Remembering Count's words from her first mission with Spare and even from the first time Tabloid had suggested they 'stick with Trigger', she chose to echo them with a lighter, more embarrassed tone. "It was all just dumb luck, Tabloid."

Count gave her a curious look, seeming to recognize the words himself. It wasn't like it wasn't a common thing to say about situations like that, but there was something about his expression that made her wonder if he was starting to reevaluate his way of thinking. Did he agree with Tabloid now? She looked over at Bandog, but he was just looking around at them all with a blank expression, giving no indication that he cared about what they were talking about now that they weren't arguing with Count. Lanza and Skald looked at each other and grinned as Lanza said, "Well, I wouldn't say that, boss. You've done a good job so far, and good old Tabloid's motto seems to have done us some good so far."

Even Húxiān nodded in agreement. "They're right, Trigger. I hate to admit it, but you've done a good job so far. And if Wiseman believes you can do it, then I won't question it." She glared at Count. "Even if I have my own doubts, I'll always trust my wingmate's judgement." The jab at Count was quite obvious, and Naomi was almost finding herself irritated by Húxiān's shift in behavior. She'd been in a bad mood since the mission, and with Clemens around it seemed to be made worse. Count wasn't an easy person to deal with, and he probably wasn't helping Húxiān any by arguing and insulting Wiseman. Naomi figured she should talk to them later, maybe order them to cooperate with the other like Wiseman had done.

"Well, enough arguing. There were a few things Wiseman wanted me to talk with you all about." Jaeger looked around before he continued talking, but all of them knew well to shut their mouths and listen when he had something to say and were more than willing to stay quiet and wait for him to continue. Once he was absolutely sure that it was safe, being on the cautious side for reasons that Naomi could probably guess had to do with Clemens, he started up again. "For one, we wanted to know as much about those two aircraft that engaged you over the port. The ones that took down an Erusean fighter and radioed you somehow, I mean. We know you've got a good memory, Trigger. Do you know anything that might be worth looking into? A tail code or any other markings by any chance?"

Naomi looked over at Count, almost silently asking if he'd seen anything. Getting the message, he shook his head in reply and Naomi looked down at her hands to try and recall what she could. Everything happened so fast, she'd been paying more attention to not dying than she had been to their markings. She did remember a few things, now that she had the chance to sit and look back on it. "Other than the false canopies and Osean roundels...I think they had some weird looking emblem on their tails...a bat, right? Kinda like what we were calling them."

"I didn't even see that when I called them bats," Húxiān said, clearly surprised to hear they actually had a bat on their aircraft. Or what Naomi assumed was a bat. Húxiān explained, "It came from an old fable I heard when I was a girl. There was a war between birds and beasts, and the bats always sided with whichever side was winning. They'd side with the birds one minute, but when the tide of battle shifted, they'd ally with the beasts. When the war was over, both birds and beasts turned on them for their deceit and drove them into the darkness. The moral my mother always said the story had was that the deceitful have no friends, and having fickle loyalty is only going to screw you over in the end."

"Damn. And I thought Jaeger was the storyteller..." Bandog said, sounding impressed with her story as he wore a thoughtful look on his face. "Hmm...and that does kinda sound like what they were doing. They seemed to make it quite clear that they didn't side with anybody at the start, though. Shooting down that Erusean was a pretty bold statement to make if you ask me. They were trying to tell both sides that they were their enemy."

"Yeah, but we don't know enough about them to know if that's true," Skald answered. He glanced at Naomi and then at Tailor before he added, "Unless someone might have hired them. Mercenaries aren't exactly uncommon in battles, even in this day and age. I heard The Demon Lord was hired in that war on the Anean continent a few years ago." He nodded to Naomi. "And your father is still technically a mercenary, is he not?"

"I think he retired a few years ago," Naomi replied, trying to recall any instances where he could very well have been off fighting in some insignificant battle. She shrugged, not able to think of any besides that time during the Continental War. She felt kind of stupid for not figuring any of this out sooner. It was right there in front of her the whole time. Dismissively, Naomi waved her hand at the question. "I wouldn't really know. It's not like my family kept me in the loop, after all."

"But wouldn't he be familiar with any other mercenary units that these guys could be from?" Lanza asked her.

"Even if he did keep up to date on this kind of stuff, I doubt that he'd be aware of who those bats were," Tabloid argued, having been looking at the TV and somehow dividing his attention between the news and their conversation. He looked back at them all. "Did no one pay attention to their voices? They're too young to have been around when Lieutenant Foulke was still working. Even with the interference from the radio I could tell that. You three remember, right? I wouldn't say that they're Trigger's age, but they aren't much older than us. Definitely in their twenties."

"So older than Trigger...I'd say thirty at the most, but even that seems like a bit much," Húxiān said. She looked at Bandog and then over at Fencer. "Think they're closer to our age?"

Fencer shrugged, staring at the label on his water bottle as he considered the possibility. At last he set the bottle down and shook his head with a sigh. "Not like it really matters. We just need to know that they're too young to have served in the Belkan War. If we were to stretch it a bit, then it's possible that they could have been flying any time between the Circum-Pacific War and now." Fencer was only voicing everyone else's inner doubts as he continued, looking around at all of them. "Even if we figured out their age and when they started flying, it doesn't help us any. We still don't know who they are, and we don't know where they came from. Regular forces tend to avoid mingling with ragtag units like mercenaries. You guys should know that as well as anyone. No one we know will have any idea of their identities. And if we had a lead, then where would we start looking? We're fighter pilots. It's not like we have the time or any real reason to go on a wild goose chase. It's not our job and we should leave it to the professionals."

"Oh c'mon, Fencer. Sounds to me like you're just scared of getting in trouble." Count was practically taunting him with the comment, and a look of irritation replaced Fencer's previously blank one. "We've played detective plenty of times, all because the people in charge were scared of a little risk. But wouldn't you rather take a risk and put a stop to a scheme that could affect everyone rather than sit back and do nothing and be the one responsible for someone getting away?"

"Look, O'Connor, not all of us lack common sense and are so careless with our position and reputation that we're willing to throw it away for no good reason," Fencer answered, fighting to keep his voice level. "It's two pilots. If you, Trigger, and Tabloid are all as great as everyone — including yourselves — claim you are, then why are you so worried? What can two, insignificant pilots possibly do to hurt you? Besides, you're not even the one they want, and I know for a fact that you still only care for yourself."

Count tensed at the comment, and he leaned forward as if he was about to push himself out of his seat and make a move for Fencer, but Naomi immediately reached for his arm to keep him in his seat. He gave her a frustrated look but finally relaxed and crossed his arm with an agitated sigh. Naomi let out a breath of relief, realizing not for the first time that the stress of recent operations was starting to get to everyone and that it was causing more than a little disagreement among their group. Tempers were clashing, and there was still some uncertainty around Naomi and the survivors of Spare Squadron. It got on her nerves too, but she did recognize that Fencer wasn't entirely wrong.

Reluctantly, she pointed this out to them. "Fencer has a point, though." It was mostly directed at Count, who was the most upset about it. She got some surprised looks from everyone, especially Fencer and Count. She guessed that they couldn't believe that she was agreeing with Fencer. Why wouldn't that surprise them? Naomi sighed, coming to an understanding in that moment. They'd all been too reckless in the past, and she led the way for it too. But now she was starting to not care. When no argument came, Naomi went on. "It's not the first time I've been singled out in a battle, and I'm sure it won't be the last. We should just pass on what we know and suspect to the right people and raise our concerns, then sit back and let the military handle it."

Tabloid gawked at this. "Are you serious? The military is useless. You leave this in the hands of the higher ups and they won't do a damn thing about it. Hell, they'd probably make it worse." He sounded as though he was in disbelief. "Besides, after what happened with McKinsey and now Clemens' suspicious behavior, I'm not sure there are many people in charge that we can trust. They may have apprehended some of them, but there are others that are better at hiding the fact that they've been bought out, simply because they're hellbent on keeping the power that comes with their position. You can't do that from a jail cell. But we know firsthand how easily someone with a high rank and a decent reputation can manipulate those around him."

"I hate to admit it, but the anarchist has a point," Bandog muttered, jerking a thumb towards Tabloid. He eyed Naomi curiously as he fought off a scowl, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as Count and Tabloid gave him a smug look. He straightened up, trying to ignore them. Naomi wouldn't lie, the awkward look on his face was kind of funny, but his uncomfortable explanation was even better. "Look, I don't like agreeing with you guys. You're all out of your minds if you ask me. But we can't just sit by and do nothing if there's a chance that the problem affects more than just us."

To everyone's surprise, it was Tailor that spoke up next, looking up from the book he'd been going over. "He's not really wrong. While I don't think you should get too involved, it wouldn't hurt to try and take things into your own hands. Even just a bit."

Naomi caught the look that Fencer, Húxiān, and Jaeger gave her. They were as conflicted as she was, but seemed to be trying to remind her of one thing. Looking down for a moment, she reminded herself of it. The last time we took things into our own hands, someone died because of it. Naomi didn't want to run the risk of losing someone else, not now that they finally had a new start. They'd been reckless before, and while she didn't want to stay out of it she also didn't want to risk everyone's career because of it. In the penal unit they had nothing to lose, but here things had to be done differently. Now she had the responsibilities that a squadron leader did, even if not as much as Wiseman. She sighed. "If some of you want to look into this on your own, then it isn't like I can stop you. But if you decide to do it then you should probably keep your heads down. Clemens knows that we're onto him. My father and Wiseman both noticed it, and so did I. When we brought up the bats, he looked panicked for a moment. He could have something to do with it."

"You're all going to get yourselves killed poking your nose where it doesn't belong." Fencer huffed, taking a swig from his water bottle. He did soften a bit, allowing his usual demeanor to come back as a playful smirk took the place of his frown. "Whatever you idiots do, just be careful."

"Like that word has ever been in our vocabulary," Húxiān replied with a laugh.

"Well, it's like Tabloid said earlier," Jaeger added with a chuckle as he stood up with a grunt. "We've got plenty of luck on our side. Just stick with Trigger." His smile faded as he checked his watch. "Huh. I didn't realize that much time had passed...well, I've got to head off. I promised Wiseman I'd give him an update on what you said. You may not have to get involved after all. Wiseman and Hawkins have been doing their own investigating and they have some connections that might offer some better results. Unless you find something out that you have to act on that second, I'd keep out of it for a bit."

With that, he was off. They all watched him leave before deciding that they had to get back to work themselves. After cleaning up their trays, they all set out, having changed the topic to something a bit more positive than what they'd been talking about over lunch. Count was walking a bit slower than the others and took up the back of their little group. Naomi eventually slowed her pace to walk beside him, easily picking up on the concern on his face. He still looked riled up from the brief argument with Fencer, and Naomi didn't want him to be upset for the rest of the day. His expression turned to one of curiosity and confusion as she ended up beside him, but he didn't say anything at first.

They continued walking before he finally said something, keeping his voice low so that the others wouldn't overhear him. "I don't like this, Trigger," he said to her. "If Clemens is involved with them and they're mercenaries, then that means that they're not going to be happy until you're dead. And they're going to kill the rest of us to ensure that. You heard that psycho's threats, didn't you?"

Naomi nodded. They said she'd get to watch her wingmen die. She looked down at her feet, then up at Count again, then ahead at the rest of their wingmates. Until he'd reminded her, she'd actually pushed the comment out of her mind. It seemed so insignificant at the time, them being so overwhelmed with everything else going on that they didn't really linger on it for that long. Now that she thought about it, the threat really got to her. Threatening her and having it out for her was one thing, but coming after her wingmen was another. After Chopinburg, she wanted to do everything she could to make sure that everyone made it back alive. Especially now that Wiseman was continuing to reinforce that.

She tried to show Count that she wasn't worried, but it looked like he could see right through it when she finally answered him. "It's like Fencer said. We take 'em out, no problem. It's two planes, right?"

"Maybe you're right. Maybe they aren't that skilled. I know you can take them, but..." Count trailed off, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Look, if we face them again then I don't want you to try your usual crazy stunts trying to take them out. At least, if you're going to take them on and fly like a maniac then at least let the rest of us back you up."

Naomi chuckled, actually surprised that he seemed so worried about it. So worried about her. "Aww, Count. Is that concern I hear?"

"Don't read too much into it, dumbass," Count said with a huff, straightening up slightly and crossing his arms. "How would it look if I let my squadron leader die? Maybe Wiseman's starting to rub off on me, or maybe I just don't want to hear his mouth if you get shot down." He tried to lighten the mood with a laugh of his own, but it was clear that the situation was bothering him. "You should just be careful. If Clemens did hire them to take you out, then that means that he wants you dead. There's no telling what he'll try...ugh. I was hoping we could escape all this stupid drama after McKinsey. It was supposed to be a new start, now look where we've ended up?"

"I doubt it's going to end here, Count. Erusea's getting desperate, and apparently people are starting to see us as a threat. Even within our own military," Naomi said, realizing that it was also entirely possible that Clemens wasn't doing this for Erusea. Osea might very well want her out of the way. Why, though, she couldn't imagine. She sighed. "But whatever happens, once it's all said and done then we'll be able to take a break. The hardest part is getting through it now, I guess. If something's up then we'll find out about it and put a stop to it, just like we did with McKinsey."

Count looked at her for a moment and Naomi met his gaze curiously. At last, he nodded and furrowed his brow, staring straight ahead. He looked as tired as Naomi felt, but he didn't look that way for much longer. In fact, he almost seemed determined. "You're awfully sure of that, Trigger. And it's not like you've really been wrong before." He rubbed the back of his neck as if he didn't like admitting it and it was embarrassing to say. "I hate to admit it, but that confidence has gotten us through a lot. Not so sure it's not gonna get you killed one day."

"Well, my luck hasn't run out just yet." She put on a playful smirk. Truth was, she wasn't as confident as everyone seemed to think. Maybe in the air, but on the ground it felt like everything was out of her control. There wasn't a chance in hell that she was going to let her wingmen see that, though. So for now she put on a brave face, if not for their sake then for her own. Naomi took a deep breath and looked away from Count, trying to feel as determined as she and everyone else sounded. "You know as well as I do that it's gonna take a lot more than some pompous jerk to take us out. If there really is an issue, it's not like it's anything that we can't handle."

"Sometimes your confidence is almost annoying," Count said with a chuckle.

"You're one to talk!" Naomi argued in mock offense.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Although he sounded like he was trying to be annoyed, the smile he had was still there and Naomi couldn't help but smile with him. "I don't know if I hope you're right about Clemens or wrong, but either way I want you to know that I've got your back."

Naomi was surprised by the comment, and took a moment to respond. She tried to keep the light, teasing tone when she finally did answer him. "Wow. I'm touched. Seems like Wiseman's really starting to rub off on you, huh?"

He shuddered. "Gah! Jeez, you didn't have to remind me!"

"Eh, I know you care." Naomi shrugged, actually relieved that the subject was starting to shift away from Clemens. She grinned and winked at him, which earned her an eye roll as she said, "No need to worry, Count. Your secret's safe with me."

After that, the mood improved significantly among their little group. Everyone tried to avoid talking about Clemens, but it was clear that everyone still had their own theories and opinions about him and they were probably still mulling it over silently, in their own heads. Naomi was happy for the break, but it still felt like their was a weight on her shoulders and the presence of Clemens around the base still acted as a dark cloud. Even if they ignored it, they couldn't get away from it, and sooner or later they'd have to confront it. Naomi just hoped this mess with the Alicorn wouldn't drag out for too long and they'd be rid of Clemens before things escalated to the point that they did with McKinsey.

She couldn't help but wonder just how long they'd be haunted with what she could only describe as ghosts of their past. Even now after they'd been freed from the penal unit there was still a stigma around them. There was still mistrust and some obvious discrimination from Clemens. And Naomi felt like no matter what they did, no matter how hard they worked, or how closer to the end of the war they came, it would still find a way to come up at the end of the day. If her father still faced backlash for his actions a little over twenty years before, then it wasn't unreasonable to think that they'd still face difficulties because of their past. But what if that was affecting things now?

Naomi wondered for a moment if maybe Clemens wasn't a threat. Maybe his behavior reminded them of McKinsey too much and they were jumping to conclusions. She tried not to think about it, and remembered what Count had said. 'I don't know if I hope you're right about Clemens or wrong...' Naomi tried to push the thought away. As much as I hate to say it, I hope I'm right. Otherwise we're going to end up in worse trouble than we'd be in if I were right, she thought. It may have been an awful thing to think, and she didn't want there to be traitors and mistrust among their military, but she also didn't want everyone to think that she and the rest of her squadron were unfit to serve because of a simple, understandable mistake.

She looked up to the sky, her thoughts almost sounding like a prayer. In fact, that wasn't such a bad idea. She closed her eyes as a cold breeze hit her face and she let out a breath. Please, just let this go smoothly.

---

Fort Grays Island, East of Usea.
2039hrs.

The last few weeks had been nothing short of miserable. With the rise of the Long Range Strategic Strike Group and their attacks having cut a path that would ultimately lead to an assault on Farbanti, the IUN was seemingly left with less tasks to do. That had not actually been the case, and Golem and Mage Squadron were sent out frequently for what were supposed to be small scale operations. They'd been making attempts to slip in undetected and attack the Erusean forces at the space elevator as much as they could. But since the destruction of the Arsenal Bird Liberty at Stonehenge, the Erusean intercepters had been made to respond faster and more efficiently and the IUN hadn't been able to come anywhere near Selatapura.

With this in mind, their new base commander that had replaced Colonel Matthews (who was now back in Oured, locked up in a cell after being tried and convicted in North Point) had been looking for anything they could do to make themselves useful. With Osea and Erusea constantly fighting over Tyler Island, in spite of the presence of an Osean base, Golem and Mage had been sent out every once in a while to provide some quick air strikes before retreating back to their little island. It was a long way to fly, which is why they'd now been spending their time helping forces further inland that were closer to them so they could avoid refueling so often. Overall, they'd been going up almost every day since then.

They arrived early that night, the sun having already set. They'd been in a short battle to help some Osean ground forces maintain the base that was on the edge of Osean occupied territory. Following that, they ended up in a surprise dogfight near Roca Roja when yet another attack was launched on their ground troops. They were lucky that they hadn't taken any casualties, but the fight hadn't gone without any damage. With the additions of the two Razgriz pilots, it was no wonder that things had been in their favor. The two may have been a little rusty but they were as skilled as the stories said and surprisingly good at following the orders given by Knocker and Clown.

The two squadrons' rosters were frequently rearranged to accommodate the two newcomers and no one complained when they had to sit out a battle. If anything, they welcomed the change. Today, though, they'd sent everyone out. Golem Squadron was with its regular lineup and Mage Squadron flew with three aircraft instead of the usual two. The Razgriz pilots flew alongside their old companion once again, and the banter that followed had been one of the only uplifting things about the entire day. But now that everyone had landed and was back at base, the mood had turned fairly sour. Everyone was tired and irritated after a long day, and it didn't help that they were informed to immediately report to HQ.

The Razgriz and Clown's journalist friend, Genette, had been stuck at the base all day with no news. He'd been the one to deliver the message to them, and it wasn't well received. Several groans sounded from all of the pilots as they chucked some of their flight gear to the ground in frustration. Knocker noticed Blaze and Grimm (the names they'd introduced themselves to him as) exchanged a tired, almost worried look between the two of them before reaching for each others hands as a quiet show of reassurance. The frowns they wore changed to soft smiles, but their eyes still gave away how weary they were. Knocker could understand that. Everyone was exhausted.

Conversation started, the pilots' voices echoing throughout the hangar as they spoke, raising their voices in irritation. To almost no one's surprise, it was Boggard that was the first to express how upset he was. "We just can't catch a break around here, huh?" he asked, although he could quite clearly guess what the answer was going to be. "Damned LRSSG. We're always having to pick up after them, and do we get any thanks for it? Nope. Get no respect for it either, all because every bit of respect from the higher ups goes straight to those Osean bigshots that they've got working for them. I wish Trigger had never had to leave. Then we'd be getting all the glory."

"I was wondering if you remembered that." Footpad seemed amused when he spoke, holding his helmet up as if to inspect it for any damage he might have to fix. "You remember the briefing we got when that new commander came in."

"Who could forget?" Faun asked, his eyes lighting up. "It's like the guy rehearsed the whole thing."

Boggard cleared his throat and started his best impression of their new commander, sounding very gruff and old all of a sudden. His expression changed to an exaggerated look of disapproval, which looked almost as stupid as his voice sounded. "Ahem — 'You'll be happy to know that your old buddy has been pardoned and promoted. Captain Foulke now serves the Long Range Strategic Strike group as leader of their Strider Squadron. She's apparently that 'Three Strikes' you've been hearing so much about! The one with half a red wing!'" The actual paraphrasing ended there as Boggard threw his own twist in, his tone becoming more whiny as if he was trying to mock a pouting child. "'Now would somebody please start kissing my ass, because I'm an important guy!'"

Even if the comment wasn't that funny, for the first time in several weeks the three of them all laughed like they used to. Actual, genuine laughter. Being in charge, though, Knocker still had to call them out on the disrespect. "Oh, c'mon you guys. Knock it off. The guy's still your commander and you should show a little more respect to him."

Clown, Blaze, and Grimm gave fond smiles, even joining in on the laughing. It was Clown that spoke up, clapping Knocker on the back and nearly knocking the breath out of him. "Aw, let 'em have their fun, Knocker. It isn't like they're doin' any harm," he said, chuckling as he watched the three begin a game of catch with their gloves. "The only thing that'll get hurt is the colonel's ego. Not that it couldn't use a blow or two. That bein' said, they deserve a chance to let loose a bit."

"Yeah, they've been working hard all week," Blaze said, grinning in spite of her own exhaustion. "They've earned a break and a chance to mess around." She seemed to be holding back laughter as she spoke, looking over at Grimm and then to Clown, then over her shoulder at where Genette was standing behind them before she looked back to the rambunctious trio. She kept the grin on her face. "Besides, it isn't like we've never done the same at one point or another. Remember Perrault?"

Grimm chuckled, not entirely sharing in the enthusiasm of his wife but still amused nonetheless. "Damn, that guy was so easy to make fun of..."

"Oh, tell me about it," Clown said, laughing. Knocker raised an eyebrow, wondering if they were talking about the same Perrault that worked in Oured. As if guessing that was what was going through his head, Clown explained. "Orson Perrault. Guy got a promotion after the Circum-Pacific War for 'outing the Wardog traitors' all while we went into hiding. Now he sits all comfy in the capital with an ever appropriate desk job. He lost a bit of weight, but damn if he isn't fat...didn't Chopper once ask just how big Perrault's chin was? Something about where it ended and if his neck even still existed...that feels like so long ago."

Knocker sighed, not wanting to get into a lengthy story while they still had somewhere to be. "Well, you can reminisce some more later." He crossed his arms and frowned. "Right now we've got somewhere to be...hey! Wrap it up, you three! I don't want the colonel on my ass again!"

At the sound of Knocker shouting to them, the three stopped their play-fighting and looked over at him, adopting rigid postures as they tried to stop their laughing. "Yes sir!" they all called out at once, Boggard chucking a water bottle at Footpad for the latter to catch. It caused Footpad to cut his words short as he focused on catching the item. He glared at Boggard, who just gave a cheeky grin in reply. Knocker smiled and rolled his eyes at them, shaking his head. What am I going to do with these idiots?

The walk from the hangars to HQ wasn't without any conversation, and Faun, Footpad, and Boggard resumed their bantering while the rest just listened. Blaze and Grimm happily filled Genette in on the events of the operation and he wrote down all of the important events. Likely for the story he was working on. Apparently GAZE had given him a chance to cover the Lighthouse War and he'd been interviewing everyone he could. To Knocker, though, it seemed like he was starting to get restless with the IUN. Like he wasn't getting all of the juicy details and events that he could be getting if he were with the LRSSG instead. It was clear that he wished he was with Trigger instead.

Heh. Trigger..that crazy kid....Knocker couldn't help but feel proud of her, even if he hadn't seen or heard about her in a while. He felt almost cheated, though. He was upset that they didn't tell them about her status sooner, and that they were left wondering what had happened for so long. He later learned that Trigger's father had been in contact with Blaze, but had only said that she had been pardoned. For some reason, it slipped her mind to tell them this. Knocker wasn't angry that she hadn't told them, but he would have liked some reassurance. They'd heard about Spare Squadron in passing as Osea's penal units began to gain a bit of a reputation. Apparently it was thanks to Trigger that Spare was seen as useful.

Had Knocker and Clown had more time, it would have been nice to give her a phone call just to check in. Boggard and Footpad had mentioned trying to call New Arrows before, and Faun agreed with them. They just wanted to check in on their friend. Losing Brownie had brought everyone closer together, and just how much they all acted like siblings was startling at some times. They were all determined not to lose any more of their wingmen, and Knocker had to admire that. In fact, he was determined not to lose any more men if he could prevent it. Their confidence and trust was probably the only thing keeping all of them from losing it. Recalling Brownie's death in any clashes with the drones wasn't hard to do, and everyone went after them with a vengeance. Knocker only wished they could face the coward that killed her in the first place.

When they finally reached HQ, they stepped inside the briefing room and were greeted by their new commander. He was a no nonsense kind of commander, and he did think himself a bit too important on several occasions, hence Boggard's poor impersonation of him. In spite of this, Knocker thought that he was pretty friendly for a commander. He was surprisingly young for a colonel, but not so young that it would seem impossible. He was probably coming close to his forties at this point, and had a few gray hairs mixed into his black hair. He walked with a bit of a limp and it seemed as though he and the Razgriz were familiar with one another, but they never outright stated it and had very brief, professional interactions.

The colonel looked up at them when they entered the room, looking relieved that they were finally there. He even gave them a rare smile as he greeted them, shoving away the paperwork that he'd been going over. "Ah, there you are. I have some things I need to tell you all," he said. To Knocker's surprise, he seemed as tired as everyone else. Once they'd all taken their seats, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, looking down at the papers before he looked up to address them. "Both of the operations were a success. You managed to defend our ground forces and they managed to keep the base they took in Roca Roja. All in all it was a success, but there's something else I need to inform you about."

"And what's that?" Clown asked, probably wanting to go and get something to eat instead of listen to their base commander giving a debriefing.

The colonel frowned, but he didn't look angry. He shrugged and explained the situation to them. "An Erusean submarine is on the loose. Our goal was to capture it, but it destroyed our fleet and managed to escape. The LRSSG had been the ones heading the operation, but I received a few phone calls today and they want the IUN placed on standby until this is sorted out." He reached for a few papers that he'd stapled together and walked over to where Knocker was sitting up front. "That's a much more detailed explanation that I received in an email from Colonel Hawkins at New Arrows and then another from Lieutenant General Shepherd in Oured. If needed, they want us to join up with their squadrons and work together to take down the sub. So from here on out, you're all going to be on the ground unless absolutely necessary. I've spoken with Gargoyle and Skeleton's commanders and they'd be willing to send out their men if something comes up."

"Seriously?" Faun let out an annoyed huff. Usually the even tempered and logical one, Knocker expected him of all people to keep his cool. The stress must have really been getting to him. "Gah! I'm so sick of this bullshit. We should be out there fighting with them."

"You will before long." Their base commander waved a hand dismissively and started to return to his desk. "If they don't need our help for this, the IUN is still going to be working with the LRSSG to take Farbanti when the time comes. You'll get to see Captain Foulke sooner or later, don't worry...at least, you will provided nobody screws anything up and goes down. Last thing we need is a POW rescue operation. I think I can speak for some of you when it comes to experience with that. Some of you know just how stressful those kinds of operations can be." He narrowed his eyes on Blaze, Grimm, and Clown, and they all nodded to confirm that they did indeed know what it was like. His eyes flicked to Genette. "As for you, Genette, I received a reply in regards to your request. You'll be allowed to join one of our ground units to cover more of the war. A transport will pick you up in a few days when they bring some supplies in. You might want to start packing."

Genette perked up at this, straightening his posture in his seat. "Yes, sir," he said with a nod and a grateful smile. "Thank you, Colonel Beckett."

Colonel Beckett returned the nod. "Of course. Don't mention it." He took a seat, looking over the rest of the paperwork he had to go over with a sigh. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have a bunch of paperwork that I need to catch up on. You're dismissed. I'll let you know if we need you for something, but for the time being, you should take it easy. Play some card games, call up your families, raid the mess hall. Whatever you'd like. Within reason of course." He gave a surprisingly mischievous smile and chuckled as he said this. "Now go on. You guys deserve a break after today."

Everyone saluted and bid the colonel farewell before they all filed outside into the hallways and started to head towards the mess hall, with Boggard leading the way and declaring that he could eat a whole horse. Faun and Footpad followed him closely, but Knocker and Clown hung back with the Razgriz and Genette. They all wore somewhat concerned expressions. In the short time that they'd all been around one another, Knocker had to admit that he was rather fond of Genette. The guy was a great conversationalist, he'd helped them out with their spy situation, and he'd even played a role in clearing Trigger's name. Also, he had firsthand experience with the Razgriz and would tell the stories that they seemed reluctant to. He'd tell them with the pride you'd expect them to have, too. Knocker would be sad to see him go.

It was clear from the look on Blaze's face that she felt the same. Grimm and Clown were also upset, but Blaze was the only one to give it away. She glanced at Genette a few times as if trying to find the right words before she finally spoke up. "You're leaving?"

Genette nodded, almost looking nervous as he replied. "Yeah...that reminds me...I need to talk to you about that."

Blaze stared at him for a moment, then blinked and shortly said that they could talk over dinner. Clown and Grimm looked at Genette in an almost apologetic way as they continued walking. Knocker wasn't too upset about Genette leaving, but he'd miss his company. Great... he thought to himself as he realized just how dull their free time was about to become. Just what we need. More pointless change.

---

2100hrs.

Kathryn sat at the table beside Grimm, a tray of food in front of her. Genette and Clown sat across from them, and Golem Squadron was seated on the table beside theirs. The only other people in the mess hall besides them were a few of the unlucky soldiers that had to work the night shift and were grabbing some coffee before heading out to begin their work. As she watched everyone leave, she tried to stall her conversation with Genette as much as possible. Needless to say, the former leader of the infamous Razgriz Squadron was less than happy. About the only good thing that happened recently had been her and Grimm getting to fly again, but it was obvious how much those around her disliked the decision. And if Genette wasn't happy with her decision, then she was allowed to be unhappy with his decision. At least, that's what the childish side of her said.

After taking a quick sip of water, she set her glass down and finally looked at those sitting around her. If anything, she was angry. Clown and Grimm knew this, and so did Genette. She liked to think that she hid it well, but those closest to her could always figure it out. Maybe she wasn't as good as she thought, or maybe there was something that tipped her off. That being said, she was a lot better at reigning in her temper now that she was older than she had been during the last war. She took a deep breath before she finally looked at Genette. "So, now that Colonel Beckett has so kindly sprung this new information on us," she said. "Perhaps you'd care to explain why you didn't bring this up sooner?"

Genette shrugged as he began to pick at his dinner with his fork. "I figured you'd be upset with it, that's all. I mean, we did all agree that if we were going to do this then we'd all be sticking together, right?" She gave a reluctant nod in agreement. They had said that. Or something close to it. What started out as a simple favor for an old friend evolved into something much different and it seemed as though everyone had been caught up in the excitement. Genette went on, confirming this. "Besides, everyone else has had their fun. Now that Matthews is gone and the military has all the information they need on the alleged spies, that leaves me as nothing more than dead weight. GAZE gave me a decent offer and I asked Colonel Beckett to contact Grimm's brother to see if they'd mind me tagging along on their operations."

She almost forgot that her brother-in-law was still serving the Osean Army, but it had been a while since they'd been in touch with him. Last she heard, he was in charge of a couple of ground operations and had apparently been a part of the ground units that helped defend Stonehenge. He was pretty lenient, but she never would have guessed that he'd be alright with a civilian, journalist or not, tagging along with them. Genette had some experience and was good at keeping his head down when he was told, but something could always go wrong. Things were different on the ground than they were in the air and there wasn't any way of predicting how someone who'd had limited experience with one of them would react when thrown into the situation.

"I can understand why you're doing it, and I'm not going to try and argue with you." Kathryn said, realizing that she could find a million arguments against it and it still wouldn't make a difference. They all had a personal stake in this war, whether they wanted it or not. She took another deep breath to make sure that she didn't blurt something out and get into an argument. She wasn't his mother, after all. Kathryn shook her head, letting out a scoff. "It's kind of funny. Here I was hoping that we could all be in this together like we were in the last war. It sounds so childish now that I think about it, but you can't really blame me. I guess as much as I missed flying, you probably missed being in the action and recording this stuff just as much."

Clown sighed and gave Genette a firm pat on his shoulder. "Well, it was nice having you around. I know everyone's gonna miss you, but so long as you stay safe and give us a call when you can, then I don't think anyone has any complaints."

"You won't hear any from me, at least," Grimm said, giving Kathryn a pointed look. She scowled, but nodded in agreement without pushing the topic any longer.

The rest of their meal was spent reminiscing and listening to Genette get excited about officially getting back into his work. Kathryn didn't protest any more, understanding that he had more reasons than just 'work' to want to continue his reporting elsewhere. If he was lucky enough then he might even get to talk with Pixy's daughter. What were they calling her now? Three Strikes? Or even some of them had found a way to mix up her and her father's titles. Solo Wing Strikes had been coined by Boggard as a joke but it actually didn't sound all that bad. If Genette did manage to interview her, it would be yet another ace's story that got told. So why was Kathryn still so upset about it?

Once they'd all finished eating and said goodnight to everyone, Kathryn walked beside Grimm as they headed back to the quarters that they shared. It had been a pain convincing the higher ups to let them share quarters. Kathryn was almost glad that they weren't officially military, otherwise they'd have tons of paperwork to go through. Hell, they'd have had tons of paperwork to go through just to get married in the first place. The last nine years hadn't been a picnic by any means, but they'd made do with what they had. Kathryn was looking forward to the release of the documents next year so that she could possibly get back to her career. What Grimm was going to do, she had no idea.

Truth be told, they hadn't talked about this kind of stuff as much as she'd have expected. In fact, just about anything relating to the Razgriz they only brought up when necessary. Their friends and former allies were the exception, but they obviously never pressured one another into telling old war stories. Even so they only told the good parts, if you could even call it that. But Kathryn figured that, with the new year drawing closer every day, she and Grimm had to sit down and talk about what they'd do sooner or later. He'd always been so quiet and accepting when it came to her and her decisions, even when they were kids. If she chose to do something, he'd support her and go along with it as best as he could. He joined the air force and she followed him like an idiot, but once he realized that she was doing it whether he wanted her to or not then he stopped trying to talk her out of it.

And now that they were flying again, when he heard that she wanted to get back in the action then he just went along with it. But it was time that they talked about it. Kathryn looked around, making sure that there wasn't anyone to get upset at them for breaking any rules with conversation, she finally spoke up. "Grimm...er, Hans..." she said, clearing her throat. He looked at her curiously, somewhat surprised to hear his first name. It had been a while since they'd been able to call one another by their first names. Technically, they could do it whenever they wanted since they weren't officially military, but they both agreed to maintain appearances both on the ground and in the air. "I want to talk to you about something."

Grimm's curiosity was quick to change to concern, maybe even dread. "What is it?"

"Well, it's two things, actually." Kathryn wasn't usually this nervous. But it was just them in the hallway and she figured it was alright to drop the calm act around her own husband. Not that he couldn't see right through it to begin with. "I want to know how you feel about us flying with Clown again after staying out of wars and everything for so long. Second, after all of this is over, once the documents on us are released to the public and the truth about the war and our squadron is revealed...what will you do? And, I guess, what do you want to do?"

Grimm looked relieved, as though he was expecting something bad, and he resumed his usual, laid back and calm demeanor. For a moment anyways. The more that he thought about her question, the more his attitude shifted. Now he just looked sad. Almost longing in a way. "I can't lie to you and say that I'm happy that we're getting back in the action. I missed flying, but we were just fine without it. Now there's a war that we have no business being in and we're fighting it. Face it, Kathryn, we can't fly like we used to. We aren't any demons or powerful fighting force anymore. Just look at us...we're thirty and basically retired. Things were fine back in Osea. I wouldn't mind going back to that."

"So, once we have the opportunity to officially rejoin the military, you're not going to take it?" Kathryn asked him, more than a little disappointed by his answer. "After everything we worked for back then? We came all this way to just sit back and do nothing?"

"After the war, I just wanted a break. I don't want to fly again," Grimm said. He let out a nervous laugh all of a sudden and seemed embarrassed by what he was about to say, but he went on anyways. "You said you were fine not being in the air force anymore. And after nine years, well, I figured that by now we'd have been able to settle down and start a family. Now I'm running the risk of losing you in a dogfight in another pointless war all because you don't know how to take it easy."

Kathryn looked at him, surprised. They'd never really discussed starting a family, at least not at any real length. Sure, she wanted kids eventually, but she still wanted to fly too. She had a reason for wanting to fight in this particular war, though. "I promise that after this war, I won't fight again if I don't have to. But after hearing Erusea's princess giving that speech about the space elevator, there are mixed feelings about it in our own government. Some are saying that we should fight to take it back, and others are siding with Erusea and want it destroyed. What happens if Osea decides to give in to Erusea? What if we lose? The Space Elevator is going to be destroyed, and then we're going to lose another one of our friends."

"Not necessarily," Grimm replied. "Captain Nagase could still make it back. She's resourceful enough that she could make it back without the elevator."

"But I don't want her to have to. Besides, there's no telling if she'd be able to survive it," Kathryn argued. She stopped walking and Grimm followed suit, turning around to look at her. She sighed and grabbed his hands in hers, keeping him from moving away from her. "Look, I can't abandon them now. Not when we're this far into it already."

Grimm sighed, looking down at her. "I get that. I've come this far with you, and I'm not going to just give up on it. I'm not asking you to do that. What I am asking is for you to accept that it's time to move on. Osea doesn't need us anymore. They've moved on and it's time that we did the same. Let other pilots have a chance to shine and take a break long enough to focus on something besides your career." He kissed the top of her head before pulling away from her. "Now come on and let's get some rest. I'm exhausted..."

Kathryn knew that he was right, and once the war was over then she'd be more than happy to focus on other things in her life. But the air force had been a big part of her life for so long that she didn't know exactly what to do with her life beyond that. She followed him with a defeated sigh, knowing he was right. She never realized that he could be so stubborn with his opinions. He'd never tried to argue with her, but if he had a good point then he wouldn't hesitate to share it with her. As they walked, she moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, grabbing his hand with hers. "You're right, Grimm, and after this is over then I promise you and I can take some time to try and live a normal life, alright?" she said, hoping he'd agree. He shook his head and smiled, so she took that as an 'okay'. "Love you."

"Love you, too," he replied.

"I have one more question, though," Kathryn said to him, lifting her head off of his shoulder so she could see his expression and reaction clearly.

"And what's that?"

"What's it like having your uncle for a base commander?" She grinned, finally taking a chance to poke a bit of fun at the fact that Colonel Beckett — known to them as PJ in a non-professional environment — had stepped in to take charge of Fort Grays and no one knew that he was actually Grimm's uncle on his mother's side. He'd also, incidentally, been a close friend and wingman of Kathryn's father during the Belkan War. Their friendship was what caused Kathryn to meet the Beckett and Grimm family when she was much younger.

It was rare to earn such a reaction from Grimm, but he rolled his eyes at the question and pretended to be upset about it. "Not all that fun. I help save the world and he gets a promotion? I swear the only way he managed that was by dropping Cipher's name." He was joking, of course, but it was still kind of funny to see his reaction. The couple laughed together at this, and at least for a moment things felt as close to normal as the two of them could manage. They'd get their normal life eventually. Kathryn was determined to give him that much. All they had to do was wait for a bit longer until they could help bring the war to an end.