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.

33. Risk Factor

Chapter Thirty-Two: Risk Factor

|...|...|...|

New Arrows Air Base, East Usea.
September 11th, 2019.
0707hrs.

|...|...|...|

"Just so you know, your dad was entirely against this idea of yours," Wiseman said to Naomi as the two of them walked side by side down the hallway, Count and Bandog following close behind them with Sarge. She'd spoken with him after dinner last night, and convinced him to let her speak to Clemens. The original idea had been to bring Bandog along with Sarge, but Wiseman had insisted on going along and when Count found out he wanted to go as well. Count had been very insistent on going, and she noticed that since the operation he'd seemed to be trying to stay as close to her as possible. Or more than usual. Wiseman also seemed to notice this, but he hadn't said anything.

Naomi sighed at his comment, recalling the irritated look on her father's face when she'd brought it up with Wiseman. It seemed that it was his turn to be upset, but something about the look told her it was stemming from concern. She'd talk to him about that later, but for now she had someone else to confront. "I know he wasn't. But this is just something I wanted to do. He threatened my life and the life of my friends. They may be your men, but they were under my command when it happened," she replied and he looked at her, perhaps surprised. Naomi had been trying to show that he hadn't made a mistake ever since her stunt at Stonehenge, and she'd been avoiding calling Strider 'her' squadron whenever he was around. As much as she could anyways. "Wiseman, even if I don't speak to him, I at least want to hear what he has to say for himself."

"I don't see the reason for it, personally," Count chimed in, and both Wiseman and Naomi looked over their shoulders at him. He seemed annoyed, which made Naomi wonder why he wanted to go so badly. He could have stayed with the others, but he didn't. "Not anymore, anyways. I mean, it isn't like the guy's on trial or something. And besides, he's got the right to remain silent. He might be more tightlipped than everyone is assuming until he gets to Osea and he's going through a court-martial."

"He's a coward, Count," Bandog replied in his usual irritated tone. He chuckled suddenly, smirking as he remembered the debriefing and what had happened to Clemens. "He got beat up by two girls. Not exactly a mark of bravery."

"Oh please, like you'd be upset if Húxiān kicked your ass. Some guys like girls that can throw a punch," Count replied with a smirk of his own, earning a warning glare from Bandog. He shrugged it off. "What's to say Clemens' mind doesn't work the same way? I wouldn't exactly fault him for it." Count looked at Naomi after he said this with an expression that she couldn't figure out, but as quickly as it showed up it vanished again and she just took it as more of him going out of his way to annoy the others. It wasn't a big deal anyways.

Wiseman, on the other hand, seemed amused by it. He raised an eyebrow and looked between Count and Naomi before Count made a scoffing sound and Wiseman looked straight ahead again, stifling a laugh. "Interesting theory, Count, but I'm afraid Bandog seems to be right about this one," he said with a smile. "I mean, you saw that look on his face when Húxiān went for him. Then Trigger came after him...poor guy couldn't really catch a break, but he seemed frozen by fear to me."

"They've both got a good point, Count," Naomi added. "Seriously, what kind of a soldier backs down from a fight? Especially if he has a reason to defend himself? Kind of makes me disappointed that guys like him are the ones running our military. How'd they even earn their rank when they're constantly acting like that?"

"Not a clue," Wiseman said, shaking his head. He grinned and gave Naomi a pat on the shoulder. "But maybe we'll all be able to change that someday, huh? With the reputation everyone here has got, I'm betting they'd give us anything we wanted once the war is over. But...as likely as that is, let's try and not think too ahead of ourselves. Ah, here we are!"

He seemed almost embarrassed by his brief episode of cockiness, but Naomi actually found it funny that he was almost just as bad as the rest of them were. Regardless of that, they'd arrived at where they were holding Clemens, and the MP let them inside without much prompting. Naomi noticed the officer give a friendly smile and nod of greeting to Bandog, which he reluctantly returned. It wasn't a genuine smile, and anyone could tell you that, but it seemed that Bandog had been getting familiar with the MPs on base. She was honestly surprised that he hadn't been given that as a role, since he was obviously better suited for it. He didn't seem the type to work on planes, but with the way he'd grabbed Clemens during the debriefing and how he worked with Sarge...it would be perfect for him.

Naomi didn't dwell on that for much longer as they all stepped inside one at a time, the door shutting loudly behind them. They weren't large cells, and it wasn't like they were used for anything that wasn't temporary. It was one space, one large room, with four small holding cells, two on each side. They were pretty much identical to the cells at the 444th, except much cleaner and their size was more akin to the solitary cells they were thrown into. There was a single cot at the far end of the cell, directly across from the door, and a very small sink and toilet. There were five small windows, one in each cell and one at the end of the aisle they were standing in, all out of reach without something to stand on.

She hesitated, and so did Count, finding the entire area undesirable. They weren't the ones locked up, so it shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Bandog and Wiseman stopped and looked over at them, picking up on this. Sighing, Count and Naomi looked at each other as if offering a chance to change their mind and leave to one another. But Naomi rubbed Count's arm reassuringly and stepped away, taking her place beside Wiseman. Count followed more slowly, but no longer as hesitant as he was before. So some memories were tougher than others, but they were all out of that situation and had each other. Besides, this place was still proving to be nicer than Zapland would ever be.

The four of them all stood outside of the cell that Clemens had been sent to after a trip to the infirmary, and Naomi felt a mix of satisfaction and guilt as she saw the state he was in now. His nose was bruised, cut, and looked a bit crooked, but had been bandaged. Not to mention a large, extremely painful looking bruise on his jaw and a split, swollen lip. His graying hair wasn't neatly slicked any longer, and it stuck up in some places, but it looked like he'd done what he could to fix it. He still wore his uniform, which had some blood spots on the collar and was wrinkled from Naomi grabbing him. He sat on his cot with a defeated, scared look on his face, staring at his interlocked hands in front of him as if he was deep in thought.

It was a few seconds before he finally noticed them, looking up at them, briefly startled. He looked them all over and straightened up, leaning back on his cot. Naomi noticed the cot was still made up, the blankets he was given folded at one end with a pillow placed on top of them. One look at the bags under his eyes and it wasn't hard to figure out that he'd been up all night. She had heard that he spent a good amount of time with the doctor last night, or he just hadn't felt the need to use the pillow or anything. His demeanor was more relaxed than Naomi had expected, and he didn't seem so smug anymore. He looked at Naomi, crossing his arms. "You here to mock me or beat what little pride I have left out of me? Or maybe it's both."

"Relax, Clemens." Wiseman was the one that answered him, gesturing for silence from the others. He kept a serious expression, but it wasn't one that said he was angry. "We're only here to talk to you. No one's going to be beating anyone."

"If only I'd had the same reassurance yesterday." Clemens sighed, and he glanced towards Bandog with a look only Bandog seemed to get. "Or the first time something like this had happened. Maybe next time I can get a warning before one of you flips your lid, that way it's a fair fight..."

Naomi rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Considering that he was taller and arguably stronger than both Naomi and Húxiān, she'd say they were pretty evenly matched. He could have fought back at any time. She got the feeling that he was accepting his defeat at that point, and just didn't feel the need to fight back. But if that was the case then he had no reason or real right to complain about it now. Either way, it didn't matter now. He was captured and he had to answer to them now. "Rest assured, Brigadier General, that there isn't going to be a 'next time'. At least not any time soon," she said to him. "But we aren't here to talk about that. We've got other concerns."

"Well, look who's suddenly being all levelheaded now," Clemens said with a frown, leaning forward. He seemed too depressed to be properly snide, but his message got across either way. He let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Wish you'd been this composed during our last encounter. But, that's women for you. Never can keep your emotions under control, until it's too late." The four of them shared a collective look that basically said 'what's this guy's problem?' but that seemed to be what he was going for. He relaxed a bit, seeming to get his usual attitude back. "I take it you want to ask me some questions about those mercenaries? Maybe who was in on it with me?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to tell us, which also translates to how much you're willing to risk for someone else," Wiseman said with a shrug. Clemens raised an eyebrow and Wiseman went on to explain. "You're not getting off scot-free, that much should be obvious. But if you cooperate with us then we might be able to work something out, make things benefit you a bit more. That's only if you tell us what we need and want to know. And we expect the truth."

"And why do you seem so sure I'm going to take that offer?" Clemens asked, almost irritated, but the expression on his face told Naomi that he wasn't going to pass it up. There was interest, maybe even hope, but he didn't say anything past that.

It was Count that spoke up next. "C'mon, what have you got to lose at this point? That Shepherd guy sounds like he threw you under the bus, and something tells me that you weren't entirely happy that those bats showed up." He sounded as though he was only playing along for Wiseman's benefit, and it was made clear as he continued. "Look, I honestly couldn't care less what happens to you. Because of those two psychos we nearly lost people. I was almost killed. Trigger was nearly killed and she was your target, and I'm not going to forgive you for that...but I also know what happens when the top brass doesn't care about you, so if you want to avoid getting thrown into the same shithole that I came from then I'd tell us what you know."

Wiseman looked as though he was going to scold Count, giving him a look that clearly said to back off, but a switch seemed to be flipped as the realization finally hit Clemens. Naomi and the others watched him go from smug to angry and then to scared as he looked them over for any indication that Count was bluffing. Bandog smirked at him and that caused him to go to a mix of fear and anger as he quickly considered his options. Without any reluctance at all, he told them, "Alright, fine. I'll tell you anything you want. So long as you can keep your promises and keep me from getting tossed in with a bunch of lowlife criminals in some penal unit. I'd be useless then...I'd never survive..."

"I believe it..." Naomi said under her breath, and Count and Bandog heard her, both of them stifling a laugh. Wiseman sent them another glare and the three of them quickly returned to blank expressions.

Shaking his head, Wiseman turned his attention back to Clemens. "We'll do what we can, Brigadier General...there isn't much we can do other than put in a good word, but we've got a good reputation. People trust us. They'd consider what we said. I'm afraid that's the only real assurance I can give you, but if you're sure then let's go ahead and get this over with." He shifted his weight, glancing around before he finally found the right words. "Alright, I guess the first question would be...who else was in on this?"

Clemens took a minute to answer, sighing. "Lieutenant General Shepherd gave me the additional funds I needed, although I get the feeling he's going to deny everything. And the man that gave us the rest of it..." He paused, and nodded to Naomi, Count, and Bandog. "Well, he's an old friend of theirs. Not really a friend, really. But as it turns out, Colonel McKinsey escaped custody and defected to the Eruseans. He used some of the money that he got for selling out Osea to help pay for the mercenaries...so that they'd kill Captain Foulke. From what it sounded like during the battle, they wanted to kill you as well, Lieutenant O'Connor."

Count didn't say anything, just took a shaky breath. Wiseman looked at them with concern and pity as the three of them looked at one another. McKinsey got away. Naomi felt herself getting frustrated. He'd gotten away...he wasn't brought to justice for what he'd done. He got away and no one seemed interested in bringing him back in. And the two Osean officers that knew where he was weren't about to give that information up. By now, he was probably long gone. There wasn't any point. Worthless bastard...nothing but a coward that can't stand up for his actions and face consequences like a true soldier would. Naomi tried to ignore that and move on. They had more questions for Clemens. They could worry about McKinsey later.

"Who were those pilots that you hired?" Bandog asked next, staring Clemens down. "Did you manipulate them into working for you? They sounded young. Probably barely old enough to fly."

"Their names are Otto and Elke van Dalsen. I can give you the files on them that I have downloaded," Clemens replied with a scowl on his face, not liking that Bandog was suddenly the one asking him. He instinctively reached into his jacket pocket, causing Sarge and Bandog to both tense. But a realization came over Clemens and he relaxed with an embarrassed and frustrated look. "Just check with the MP out front. The doctor confiscated everything I had on me, but I had it saved to a flash drive. In fact, I think I actually left it in my room...by my laptop. Everything you need to know on them and the terms of their hire is on that."

"Alright, now I've got one for you," Naomi said, bringing his attention to her. She took a step closer to his cell, almost pressing herself against the bars. She didn't know why she did this, and she felt Count briefly try and pull her back, tugging on the sleeve of her flight suit, but she ignored him. "Why did you hire someone to kill me? I've done nothing but obey the orders I've been giving and I've been nothing but loyal to Osea. For my entire life. And you suddenly want me dead? But, then you go and change your mind last minute...so what were you trying to accomplish, brigadier general?"

He blinked, almost surprised by her question, and opened and closed his mouth as if he was trying to find the right way to answer but deciding against it. Everyone in the room seemed very interested in his answer, and he was reluctant to supply it. But at last, he answered her. "The plan was originally to...terminate you. With the belief among some that you truly did kill Harling, and the fact that your father was a mercenary and a terrorist...not to mention the fact that you're basically a full blooded Belkan..."

Naomi cut him off, snapping at him, "I was born and raised in Osea. So you can cut it with that bullshit excuse right now. I'm sick of hearing it."

"Just hear me out. It played an important part in our decision..." Clemens looked guilty about what he was saying, and Naomi wanted nothing more than for him to just shut up. But she wanted an answer. "There's a belief that, with your heritage and your father's past...not to mention a couple of things that your sister was involved in during the last war...and don't even get me started on your brother." Naomi raised an eyebrow, wondering where her siblings fit into all of this, but she allowed Clemens to continue. "The point is that we were worried that you may have strong ties to some organizations that are trying to restore Belka to its former glory. If they managed to sway you, then you'd go from being a potential hero to a...well, a villain. Now I don't think you're one of the good guys. Not entirely. There are too many pilots out there, ones that only seek fame and fortune...but it was ultimately decided that you're useful to our military. And I called off the attack...or I thought I did. I figured you'd just wipe them out...I saw how you defended O'Connor too, even though I don't believe he was even worthy of a pardon."

Count stepped forward, starting to reply, but Wiseman held him back. Naomi straightened up and crossed her arms. "Count's a more noble and loyal soldier than you'll ever be, Clemens. So watch your mouth," she said to him as firmly as she could. Her voice was probably getting shaky by now, and she was getting angrier by the minute. "I'll defend him in the air or on the ground. You don't have a right to decide who gets to live or die based off of where they came from or what other people have done. Count, Tabloid, Avril, and Bandog all came from a penal unit. But in spite of what they've done wrong, they served their sentence and I couldn't ask for better people to watch my back. As for me? I never asked for my parents, or my brother and sister, or whatever legacy I have to carry. But I wouldn't change anything. Because whether they're Belkan or not doesn't mean shit to me. They're still my family and I'm proud of it. And if people want me dead for that, then so be it."

Clemens opened his mouth to say something again, but Naomi wasn't finished. "But if you ever try and harm Count, my family, or any of my wingmen ever again — if anybody tries it — then I'll show you a 'villain'. I don't care who you are or what rank you've got or what happens to me. You hurt them, you answer to me. They're more important to me than my career will ever be. Pass that on to your Lieutenant General." She pushed herself away from the cell and backed up, looking at the others. Wiseman stepped aside, and Count looked as though he wanted to say something to her. Naomi felt like she should say something to him, but she didn't know what.

As Wiseman continued questioning Clemens, Naomi stood beside Count, more or less out of the conversation. To her surprise, though, Count wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a reassuring hug. Naomi didn't know why, but in that moment she felt better. She wasn't angry anymore. She felt safe and relaxed and warm. Still upset, but it was ebbing away. She and Count stayed side by side until Wiseman and Bandog were finally done with their questioning. Count gently rubbed her shoulder before letting go of her and the two of them turned to the door, Wiseman behind them. Bandog lingered by the cell door for a minute longer, saying something so only Clemens could hear him, and then he followed them out into the hallway.

The four of them stood outside, the MP shutting the door behind them. Naomi looked at the door and sighed. "Well, that didn't go how I imagined it at all," she said. "Did we at least get something helpful out of him?"

"Yeah, he cooperated well. I'm satisfied with everything he gave us," Wiseman said, none of them quite so sure where to go from there. It seemed as though he had it all worked out, though. Perhaps he was the only one. "I'll send someone to clean out his room and make a few calls so we can get him out of here. Not to mention the information on Shepherd and McKinsey. There's no guarantee that we can get McKinsey back in custody, but we can get rid of Shepherd. I'll also have someone check into those siblings he hired, see if they have any family we might be able to...inform of their passing. I doubt whatever unit they were a part of cared enough to do that."

"So, what do we do?" Count asked, exchanging a look with Bandog.

"Go and rest up and wait for word from me," Wiseman answered. "David's going to be calling us as soon as he finishes up working through some last minute things, and I want you all to be ready when the call finally comes. So go and hang out for a bit. Relax, chat, work with Mead in the hangars. Anything you'd like, just so long as you get your minds off of this for a bit." He gave them a small smile. "And that's an order. Now go. Get outta here and let us handle things for now."

Not in the mood to argue and honestly being more than happy for a break, Naomi turned away with Count and Bandog close behind her. Bandog reached into his pocket and brought out a rope toy he carried around for Sarge, flinging it down the hall and letting go of her leash so she could chase after it. Naomi watched Sarge happily run after it, smiling slightly. Bandog also chuckled a bit as Sarge returned with it, pausing for a brief struggle in prying it from her mouth before he threw it again. "I'd say things went better than they could have. The coward cooperated and now he's out of our way." He looked over at Naomi. "You're probably in the clear, now, Trigger."

Count scoffed. "I doubt that. You really think that he's the only one that wants her dead?" He shook his head. "No. We can't just let our guard down because one person is out of the way. Now that McKinsey is out on the loose? You actually think he's going to give up on killing us that easily? After everything we've done to him?"

"Count's right, Bandog," Naomi said, still not liking that just about everyone in her own country might as well be turning on her. Not to mention she had Erusea out for her head, and she had her own enemies to deal with in the form of Mr. X. And then the Alicorn with some madman out to possibly blow up the capital, where her mother probably was. Things were spiraling out of control, and especially out of her control. Why did wars always have to get so personal? She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Stress. Just great. "We're not going to be able to let our guard down any time soon. And things aren't going to get much better from here on out."

---

2021hrs.

They all sat around the briefing room much later that day, the screen seemingly brighter than usual as it kept with its regular display of the Usean continent. Although it was very early in the morning back in Osea, David North had been the reason they were all gathered here. The mood among them was basically the same. Most of them were quiet and restless, chatting quietly with one another or joking around to get rid of excess energy. Lanza was more subdued than usual, but Skald and Fencer were pestering to try and put him back in his usual good mood. From what Naomi could see of it, it was working, and Lanza was grinning and laughing at something Skald had said.

Naomi noticed that Tailor was speaking with Húxiān, going over some sort of battle strategy he was working out or something for his next practice fight. He was easily the most hyperactive of them all, fidgety and slightly irritable that he hadn't been on a real sortie. Naomi wanted to train with him a bit more. He seemed like a good, hardworking kid, but Wiseman and the others were very adamant about keeping him out of combat. Naomi didn't blame them. He was nineteen, and they had enough kids fighting on the ground. Kids that enlisted and signed up for this. They could only do their best to keep them safe, but there was a way to make sure Tailor got home. Still, after the Clemens incident and what happened over Anchorhead, he clearly wasn't happy that no one would let him get in on the action. More so than usual, anyways.

Tabloid and Count were sitting on either side of Naomi, as usual, with Avril beside Tabloid and Bandog behind her. He was more focused on what Húxiān and Tailor were talking about, though. Naomi watched Wiseman, her father, and Long Caster say something to Jaeger, and Jaeger nodded in reply before he made his way back to where they were sitting. Everyone ceased their conversation and perked up as Jaeger approached them, standing at the edge of the row of seats they were sitting at. After taking a breath, he informed them, "North is finishing up as we speak, so he'll be calling any minute now. Wiseman also wanted me to tell you that we found out more about those bats."

"Really?" Fencer asked curiously. "So who were they?"

"Well, they seemed like average kids. They were twins, turning twenty-six next month, and their father was a mercenary pilot during the 90s. They were born in Belka, lived there until they were about two or three, then their parents moved them to Osea when their father sought out a new career and a new life," Jaeger explained to them, seeming to feel sorry for them. "Overall, it seemed they had a pretty average life. They had good grades in school, were said to be focused in class, and came from a fairly well-off family."

"So, how'd they get mixed up in the mercenary-assassin business, then?" Tabloid asked them, and Naomi noticed that he seemed intrigued when it was mentioned that they were Belkan.

"When they were about sixteen or seventeen, the sister...Elke was her real name...well, she spent a couple of months in juvie for vandalism shortly after her father passed away. Her brother eventually took the heat for a few more mistakes from then on out, but regardless of some marks on their record the military let them go through flight school for some reason. Their mother died halfway through that and they started acting out again," Jaeger said. "They made it through somehow and were accepted into a program by some Usean aircraft manufacturer that was working with the IUN when the war broke out. They got charged for assault on a superior officer shortly before and wound up getting sent to the penal unit set up on Tyler Island. And they broke out sometime recently and ran to Erusea for cover. After that, the OADF lists them as MIA, but hasn't been looking for them."

"Well, that explains a lot..." Naomi said, actually feeling bad now that she knew more about them. In a way, they sounded as though they had potential to be great pilots...and they threw it all away because they couldn't get over the past. She couldn't imagine how hard it must have been to lose their parents, and not to mention that they were Belkan too. They probably felt like the world was against them, and then they get tossed in prison. She knew how that felt. Still, it didn't excuse what they'd done. Or what they'd tried to do. "But, they're gone now. We won't have to deal with them any longer."

"It was their own damn fault," Count huffed. "Like I said, I don't feel sorry for them at all. They got what was comin' to 'em."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Count on this one," Húxiān grumbled, clearly not the most excited about sharing an opinion with Count. He gave her a smug smirk and she rolled her eyes before explaining her reasoning. "You can come from shitty circumstances and still make the best of things. If you ask me, they would have been better off making an effort to do good instead of giving in to the belief that they were inherently bad. I mean, look at how you all turned out. Look at how most of us turned out. They gave in to pressure and gave up. They set themselves up for what happened. It was their own fault and they didn't deserve any better."

Everyone murmured their agreement with her, and that was the last that anyone mentioned the subject. Naomi agreed as well, however reluctant she was to do so. Jaeger gave her a small smile of encouragement and pity and took his seat on the end of the row, beside Count. Her father was helping Long Caster with something on the computer, and shortly after there was a chiming sound as they connected their video call with David. Eventually, the steady chime ended and a different sound was heard as the window opened on the screen and the map zoomed in on Anchorhead Bay. Everyone went silent as the call went through, and everything seemed to stand still for a few seconds.

David's face appeared in the small window on the screen, looking rather tired. Naomi guessed he'd been up all night working with this, and it only affected his usual cheerfulness ever so slightly. "Sorry it's so late, but I'm glad you're all here. It'll be important later on, I promise. We've acquired important intel from the mission." The screen changed its position at the map to show a better example of distance. A circle appeared, lines all sprouting from the same spot but coming out at wide angles all the way around. "For example...the shells from long-range anti-air fire came in on depressed trajectories. Look here..."

A layout of the Alicorn's railgun appeared on the screen, showing it from several angles with its size and overall length typed out underneath. It looked intimidating, and it only got worse with the explanation David gave them. "The estimated energy output of the railgun is 500 megajoules at least," he said, and another, much larger circle appeared on the screen around the smaller one and a burst of red lines connected to them. That was its firing range. And that was terrifying. David went on, sounding tired and dejected, "Fired at minimum-energy trajectory, range is over 3,000. They hid a powerful rail cannon aside from their main guns."

Count furrowed his brow as they all focused on the screen in awe and concern. "It's almost like Stonehenge."

"Yeah..." Jaeger agreed with a nod. "A mobile Stonehenge."

"As if a railgun wasn't terrifying enough on its own," Naomi said, recalling them defending Stonehenge. That thing was terrifying in action, even if it was on their side. And if a railgun could rip through an Arsenal Bird's shield? Their planes would be obliterated. There'd be nothing left of the aircraft to salvage. Which meant they were in a tricky business with the Alicorn. Even more than they already were. Naomi sighed. What would they come up with next? Next David was probably going to tell them that the damn thing had lasers mounted to it. That wouldn't be fun to deal with, but thankfully the only trick up their sleeves seemed to be the railgun.

"And also...there's this." David went on, the screen zooming in on the bay. It showed the satellite view of the city and surrounding area and then a pair of surveillance photos captured of the Alicorn. One was of it beside a dock, and the other was of it leaving the bay. David typed a few things in on his own computer and then continued as a blueprint of the Alicorn appeared beside the other images. "The Alicorn was in harbor at Anchorhead for approximately ten minutes. They couldn't have loaded SLBMs. They would have had to load something smaller."

"Smaller?" Húxiān repeated, crossing her arms.

Avril leaned back in her seat. "I sense another trivia game coming on."

This seemed to cheer David and the others up a bit as a small smile appeared on their faces, a few chuckles sounding from the guys. David's face actually lit up a bit as he tried to make the question exciting. "What is smaller and yet still a powerful weapon?"

Silence fell over them as David, Wiseman, and Long Caster stared over them expectantly. A few looks were exchanged between the group, but Lanza immediately looked to his best friend. Naomi and the others eventually did as well, noting that Skald sat there with a serious and very thoughtful look on his face. He pressed his hand to the bottom of his chin, rubbing his index finger along the corner of his mouth. "Hmmm..." At last, his eyes lit up and he pulled his hand away from his face, snapping his fingers. "Tactical nukes."

"You're close!" David was suddenly much more cheerful than before, which was how Naomi was used to seeing him. He pressed a key on his computer, and Long Caster swiped across the smaller computer screen to display what he'd sent them on the larger screen. David smiled. "The answer is tactical nuclear shells."

"Wait...you said nuclear shells?!" Naomi sat there, more than a little shocked by the question.

"No way..." Count also seemed to be processing the question, all of them now staring at the image of the weapon.

Lanza, on the other hand, seemed to have other things on his mind. "Hey, hey, he got that question right!" he said, gesturing to Skald with an offended look on his face.

Skald sat there, almost embarrassed by the scene Lanza was making, and shrugged it off. "Nah. I missed the 'shell' part."

"Quiet!" Jaeger snapped at them, an exasperated look on his face. He sounded like a parent scolding their child, and Lanza and Skald both looked at one another and stifled a laugh. Although he shook his head as if in disappointment, Jaeger and just about everyone else in the room were hiding their amusement.

The map zoomed out, so Wiseman stepped up to continue. He nodded to Long Caster and three red circles appeared on the eastern side of the map, in allied territories. It took Naomi a moment to realize what was highlighted as targets for the enemy. New Arrows was highlighted, obviously, considering its importance. Zapland was just below that. She felt her stomach drop as she saw that Fort Grays was the third one, and she remembered her old friends and squadron. She still hadn't spoken to them, and she really didn't want them to get caught up in this unless they were going to help destroy it. Although they didn't need an explanation, Wiseman gave them one anyways. "We think it's likely they'll attack our bases on the east coast. They're prime targets, and unfortunately, relatively easy ones as well."

David shook his head. "No, there's an even easier target, if you remember our conversation from the other day." He then did the same thing Wiseman had done, and looked to Long Caster and nodded. The window with David's video feed shrunk down slightly as the screen shifted from the Usean continent and centered on Osea. Naomi felt more fear building up as a photo of the bridge in the capital showed up on the screen and the name of the capital was pinpointed on the screen. "Their target's Oured, the Osean capital."

Lanza's smile faded and he glanced around nervously. "You mean...they want a nuclear war? And they're really going to target civilians to get what they want?"

"Crazier things have been done. I kinda hate that they're proving us right, though," Fencer said, and most of them nodded in agreement

"Here's a question," David went on, more serious than before. "What's a situation where nuclear deterrence doesn't work?"

Húxiān rolled her eyes and sat up in her seat, arms still crossed. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, quiz guy, I've had enough of this!"

But Skald cut her off before she could continue and before anyone could get mad at her for voicing her agitation. His eyes lit up again and he snapped once more. "Ooh! Only when terrorists have the nukes!"

David smiled again, typing something in as Long Caster zoomed on the 3D map and squared off the capital. "Correct!" David chirped, and Wiseman and Long Caster both smiled.

Lanza chuckled, playfully elbowing Skald and raising an eyebrow. "Damn, Skald! Now you're on a roll!"

Skald looked a bit embarrassed, shrugging and allowing a sheepish smile that slowly turned to a smug one. "Hey, what can I say? I'm good at trivia games."

Naomi turned to look at Count, who had looked away from Skald and Lanza and back at the screen. He shook his head, doubtful for some reason. "But, we're after an Erusean submarine, not terrorists," Count said, and it made sense. But they'd already been going over different possibilities and that was one of them. Naomi still didn't know how to feel about it and she didn't want to jump the gun like they always did.

Wiseman looked over at Naomi's father, and they exchanged an uncomfortable look before Wiseman sighed, lowering his head with disappointment in his voice. "No, he's right." He took Long Casters place and pulled up an image of the Erusean flag, followed by a small image with some text on it. "HQ tells me that Erusea's justification is that the Alicorn mutinied. 'As such, the Erusean military cannot be held responsible for the submarine's actions'. That's the official statement from one of their representatives, anyways. Allegedly, it came straight from the king."

"Damn..." Naomi said under her breath, looking between the Erusean flag and the image of Oured. "It's awfully convenient for them, isn't it? Can't say I'm too surprised...we should have seen this coming from a mile away."

"I personally believe that many within the Erusean government would be against the plan, and wouldn't allow it if they were still in command. But now that Torres, a man with a grudge and more than enough experience, is in charge...it changes things," David said, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. "They fully intend on dropping a nuke on Oured, and unfortunately there's no way to prevent this without causing mass hysteria. It's not looking so good. The Alicorn and her crew are determined. They'll stop at nothing."

"Here's a question for you, analyst," Naomi's father spoke up, and everyone looked at him. The expression on his face, mostly hidden by how dark the room was, but to Naomi it looked as though he already knew the answer to his own question. "Just exactly who are we facing? What are they going up against out there?"

"The correct term would be 'terrorist' or...or 'irregular military'," David replied, glancing at Naomi's dad with a look Naomi was growing more and more accustomed to seeing from people. It was a mix of pity and surprise. She'd seen it towards her and towards her father. It wasn't anything new. David continued, pulling up Torres' ID photo that they'd seen once before. "But, I have a different name for them. 'An enemy to be stopped at all costs'."

Determination and agreement passed through the group, all of them nodding in agreement. Skald was the only one to verbally agree. "Correct."

"With all of that said, though," Jaeger began slowly, looking around the room.. "What's our move? We don't know where they are, or how they'll get where they need to go. Nor do we have a plan to destroy it. The thing is massive, and it would take a miracle to take it out."

"I'm working on that right now," David replied. "I got in touch with a couple of people I know I can trust and they're in contact with Erusea now. We're hoping that their navy will be able to help us, sending over information so we can pinpoint weak points on the ship and figure out the prime spots to target it. If not then we'll have to go to the original source and creators of the su and get in touch with Yuktobania. Of course, all of this is provided that Erusea didn't put it through some serious upgrades...and the chances are, they did."

"Well, David, just stay in touch with us as usual and let us know when you've made progress," Wiseman said, yawning not long after. Chuckling, he turned his attention back to them and took a look around at everyone. "As for everyone else, go and rest up and get to work tomorrow. We could all use some upgrades to our planes and a chance to brush up on some training. I want to see you all bright and early at 0600 tomorrow morning. Avril, you think you and Bandog have fixed up the planes enough to fly by then?"

Avril shrugged. "There's some more work to be done, but you can fly them with no trouble...just in case, though, I'll get up early and make some last minute adjustments." She stood up and stretched out, leading the way out of the room. "If that's gonna work though, I should get off to bed. Either that or pull an all nighter, not like I haven't done that before..."

"Hey, Avril, wait up!" Tabloid called out, pushing his way past everyone else to walk beside her. She stopped, turning around to look at him curiously. He caught up to her and chuckled awkwardly as they started walking again. "I'll...uh...I'll walk you back to your barracks. I could use the fresh air, anyways. And the company."

Naomi and Count looked at one another and Count stifled a laugh, turning it into an amused snort, but Avril sent them both a glare that quickly kept them from saying or doing anything else. She didn't seem bothered by his company, but she seemed to be trying to act disinterested. Shrugging, she continued limping forward as Tabloid quickly opened the door and held it open for her. "Alright, well, it's your choice," Avril said to him, fighting a smile herself. "Honestly, the walk is boring. I could use some good conversation."

Everyone began to follow them out, Count among them, but Naomi hurried after him and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He looked back at her, confused. "Trigger? What're you doing?"

She wasn't quite sure herself, so she let go of his wrist and pulled her hand back, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I just...I wanted to talk to you, and we're both headed in the same direction, sooo..." She wasn't sure where to go with her defense from there, and he was giving her an amused and possibly suspicious look now. Naomi took a deep breath and started to walk, motioning for Count to follow her. "Just walk with me, Count. We haven't been able to talk one on one in a while, and I thought it might be nice. And I...I'm not really ready to be alone right now. Makes me sound kinda childish, but..."

He cut her off as he followed after her. "Not really. I get that you're stressed and on edge. We all are. I could use the company myself."

As the door to the briefing room shut behind them and they started down the hall, Naomi could only think about the dogfight from the day before. No matter what, the image of Count getting hit refused to leave her mind. She hated being able to remember things so well, especially when most of what she ended up remembering the most vividly were events she wished had never happen. "You did a good job during that dogfight with those siblings," Naomi said to him, and he glanced at her but said nothing, allowing her to go on. "I mean...I've never seen you fight like that. You had one too many close calls, and I was about ready to strangle you, but...you pulled through."

Count chuckled. "What, you actually expected something less of me? It's about time I started getting some credit around here, and maybe Wiseman's going to take a step in the same direction you have." What he said made him seem a little irritated rather than grateful, but he went on and she wasn't about to interrupt him. In fact, he seemed in a much better mood as he kept talking. "Besides, that was an easy fight. They seemed to have a crush on you until I worked my charms on 'em. They fell right into it, without even realizing it. Bet they don't think I'm a wuss anymore, huh?"

"Considering what happened to them, no...they probably don't." Naomi smiled, but she didn't laugh like Count attempted to.

As they stepped outside, they were greeted by a chilly breeze in otherwise warm weather. The temperature was continuing to fluctuate, but it wouldn't be long before fall temperatures set in and everything on their end was cold. Osea had already slipped into fall weather, and Erusea probably was already facing the cold as well. The rest of the continent was slowly following suit. In the meantime, they could enjoy the in-between that they had now. It wasn't Naomi's preferred time of the year, but anything was better than being stuck in ninety-something degree heat, so she'd take whatever change she could get. It honestly wasn't that much of a bother to her, or anyone else from what she'd seen.

Although silence fell over the two of them for a few minutes, the sounds of nearby insects and bats and the distant chatter of their squadron mates further ahead being the only thing disturbing said silence, it wasn't awkward. It was almost comfortable, but Naomi still felt as though she needed to keep talking. After finding the right words, that's just what she did. "I feel like I should probably thank you. Not just for having my back these last few days, but for not getting yourself shot down," she said. "If I'd lost anyone I...well, let's just say I've had enough of watching my friends and wingmen die, especially when there was something I could have done to prevent it. I'd have probably lost it if you or Lanza or Húxiān had gone down."

"You'd be fine without us, Trigger," Count said, almost dismissively. "Besides, this thing ain't over yet. We've still got to get rid of that sub, then we have to capture Farbanti." He suddenly grinned, blue eyes lighting up as he did so. "So why don't you save your thanks for later, once I'm finished kicking everyone's ass out there? Then I'll take all the praise you can throw at me."

Naomi tried not to laugh, but she failed, giving his arm a playful shove as she finally broke. "Yeah, don't bet on it, asshole!"

They reached the barracks still laughing, although it slowly died off as they stepped inside. They made it to Count and Tabloid's room first, and Count seemed almost disappointed as he stopped in front of their door. "Well, wish I could stick around longer, but we both need the sleep. You especially," he said, giving her a pointed look. For once, Naomi didn't argue with him. Everyone had refused to let her have caffeine ever since she'd gone to the doctor after their meeting with Clemens, so she had a higher chance of going to sleep but it also made her exhausted. More than she had been. Count ran a hand through his hair and opened his door, pausing before he closed it though. He looked back at her and gave an awkward chuckle. "Goodnight, Trig."

She smiled, giving him a halfhearted wave. "Goodnight, Count. I'll uh...I'll see you in the morning."

"See you then." He nodded and returned the smile, quietly closing the door. Naomi heard the door finally click as it was closed all the way, and reluctantly headed back to her own room, fighting the urge to knock on the door and ask to keep talking. For some reason, she just wanted to be near Count, but it was late and everyone was right. They needed the rest.

In a short, five minute walk at the most spent in complete silence, she reached her room, opening her door and turning on the lights as she stepped inside. She let go of the door and let it shut on its own. Too tired to do much else, she changed out of her flight suit and into the military issued sleepwear that she'd been stuck with for the longest time. Cutting out the lights, she curled up in her bed and stared at the wall, honestly wishing she'd had more time for conversation. A sense of loneliness started to creep up, and all she did was bury her head in her pillow to force it out of her mind until sleep finally took ahold of her.

---

Farbanti, Erusea.
September 12th, 2019.
0900hrs.

Rosa stood out in her family's garden early in the morning as Leo raced around, doing his business and getting some exercise in. Henri stood nearby, barely paying any attention to the dog and more on his surroundings. It seemed as though Leo was content with that, continuing his race through the grass, steering clear of any flowerbeds. Rosa eyed him, but the sound of heavy vehicles driving nearby brought her and Henri's attention towards the roads on the other side of the iron fence around the garden. The roads sat around the rest of the grounds, the garden being cut off from them, and unfortunately Rosa's beloved home was starting to look more like a war zone than it had before.

The submerged area on the very edge of the city, near the crater that had flooded the district, several Erusean ships were moving in to use the area as cover for a time. Tanks and anti-aircraft weapons and vehicles were being scattered throughout the city, and they were beginning the evacuation of the city on Saturday, sending all civilians to any nearby cities they could. Some had already packed up and left the city when the soldiers began moving in. Many of them agreed with Parrish's view, and Rosa found herself mistrustful of the commanders that were hanging around more and more frequently and speaking with the general after his visits with her father.

As a couple of soldiers began shouting orders back and forth, Leo paused at the gate to the garden and curiously poked his head between the bars, letting out a small whine that turned to a frustrated and excited bark. The soldiers looked over at them, looking as though they were surprised for a minute but slowly seeming happy by the dog's input. Rosa, on the other hand, didn't want to draw more attention to them than they had to, and from the look on Henri's face she could tell that he thought the same. "Leo!" Rosa called out to him, clapping her hands together to get his attention. "Leo, come here, boy! Come to me!"

Leo pulled his head from between the bars and straightened up, looking at her curiously. She called his name again and he turned to glance at the soldiers once more before barking and sprinting over to her and Henri. He slowed himself down, trotting over to her before coming to a halt and sitting right in front of her feet. "Good boy," Rosa praised him, carefully crouching down and petting him. He wagged his tail, happy with the attention, and Rosa couldn't help but chuckle as he shoved his head against her hand, begging for more attention. She scratched him behind his ears before standing up, picking up a ball from nearby and throwing it for him.

Henri smiled as they watched Leo spin around and chase after it. "Well, at least one of us is able to act as carefree as always," he said, and Rosa looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked him, keeping a small, innocent smile.

"You can cut the act with me, Your Highness. I practically helped raise you. I can tell when you're stressed or upset about something, and I'm afraid that you've been like this for some time now," he replied, his own smile fading back into a blank expression. "Even on a day like this, when you're meant to unwind and relax, you're still worried. You're frustrated and on edge, not to mention you and your father haven't spoken much lately. They've got you in over your head and refuse to give you any help, so you just keep trudging through like nothing's wrong. But...it's really not my place to say any of this. Alas, it seems I have a bad habit of saying too much."

"You can be honest with me, Henri. I don't mind it. Like you said, you did practically help in raising me," Rosa said, nervously rubbing her arm as a chill ran down her spine. It was chilly that day, and she'd put on leggings and a long sleeve blouse that day, not to mention the sweater she'd grabbed before going outside. But even with that, she found herself shivering slightly. It wasn't because of the cold, rather it was caused by her nerves. That was all she could think of to explain it. "It's just...I feel as though no one wants to listen to me. They're treating me like I'm a child. It makes me wonder why they even bother including me in anything. And at this point, I don't want this war to continue much longer. But I don't know what to do to help end it. And now this?"

Exasperated, she gestured to the military vehicles and the tents they were setting up to store more weapons. Henri looked over at them, but he didn't say anything at first. He sighed. "Things do seem to be getting worse and worse for Erusea, don't they?"

"I can't visit any of my friends because I'm tied down here, and I can't even go to the park to clear my mind because the military is setting up there as well," Rosa said, trying to keep her cool. She was overwhelmed, and she hated sounding like a little girl, but she didn't know how else to put it. "We're losing this war, all because we're relying too much on drones. General Shilage is a great pilot and a war hero. And to just let him waste away to improve the drones? I don't see how it's fair to him. Or to his granddaughters. At this point, Parrish is allowing our military to continue fighting a losing battle, and their morale is poor thanks to Osea's new ace. We've made our point, so what reason is there to keep fighting?"

"From what I can tell, it's just human nature to fight, even if we don't have a chance of winning," Henri said, taking a deep breath. "I may have said it before, but it's true. It's always going to be true. But even if there doesn't seem to be a chance, there's no reason to just give up."

Rosa looked at him, then looked back out at the garden and at Leo. She didn't quite understand. "But this war is starting to look more and more pointless, don't you think? What is the point to keep fighting and shedding blood when it would make more sense to end it now?"

Henri gave her a kind smile, his voice gentle as he said. "There's more than one way to fight, Your Highness. It doesn't always mean throwing yourself into harm's way, although sometimes it's necessary."

"Vague as always. I guess it's time I started figuring things out for myself, though, so perhaps it's for the best," Rosa said with a sigh, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and crossing her arms, bringing them close to her body and shivering as a cold wind hit them both right in the face. It was from the north, likely bringing colder weather with it. She wanted to go inside instead of remaining out in the cold, but Leo needed to get his excess energy out. She couldn't take him on a proper walk, so this was all she had. "I wish at least one of you could make things easy for me."

"Well, what's life without a couple of challenges?" Henri asked with a playful gleam in his eyes. "Besides, you've always been clever. You can decipher it just fine."

The door opened behind them and Henri was the first to see who it was, immediately going on the defensive and placing his hand on his hip for easy access to the gun he carried. He was just as quick to relax, and Rosa turned to see who had come to join them. She was surprised and somewhat disappointed to see that it was her father, and barely acknowledged his presence as she looked back at her dog. Leo had stopped what he was doing only to see who the newcomer was, and promptly returned to his playtime without much more regard for the king than Rosa had. Henri looked between the two of them and took a couple of steps away from Rosa, allowing her father to take the spot beside her.

"Good morning, Father," Rosa said to him with a quick nod, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "I thought you would be busy with meetings all day."

"That's actually what I came to talk to you about," the king said, perhaps a little uncomfortable by the obvious tension. Rosa relaxed her posture a bit, feeling somewhat guilty for how she was treating him, but she didn't say anything. Her father rightfully took her silence as an invitation to explain himself. "I'm heading downtown to meet with Parrish and some admirals to discuss this business with the Alicorn and Captain Torres. Osea has contacted us, asking for the specifications of the sub so that they can know it's weak points. They have good reason to believe that their capital is the target. I already know what Parrish's stance on it is, but it's my decision and word that's final...it's going to be a day or so before the process is completed, but still...I wanted to consult you on it."

Rosa's eyes widened and she turned to face him at last. "You...you want to know what I think we should do?"

"You've been very passionate about things lately, and I've been dismissing your ideas. Your mother and I had a conversation about it the other night, and I figured I should listen to your opinions and take them into consideration," her father said, absentmindedly fidgeting with his tie. Rosa, out of habit from when she was much, much younger, quickly and abruptly began to straighten out his collar and fix his tie from his fidgeting, forcing him to stop messing up his appearance. He let his hands fall to his side and wore a look of amusement and annoyance. "Speaking of your mother, she's starting to rub off on you. Would the two of you stop fussing over me all the time and just let me be?"

"I can try, but I can't say the same for Mother," Rosa replied, letting out a soft laugh and backing off from him, letting him dust off his jacket on his own. "So...about my ideas? You're willing to hear me out before you go?"

"Actually, you're welcome to go along with me or you can stay here. Either way, the choice is yours," her father said.

She nervously bit her lower lip, and then stopped, not wanting to turn it into a nervous habit. Rosa shook her head. "No, I won't go. I need a break, at least for today. I'm not really sure I'm interested in hearing any more of General Parrish's ideas, either."

Her father didn't look as understanding as she expected, and there was a look of disappointment in his eyes as soon as she said that, but he said nothing against it. "That's your decision, then. In the meanwhile, what do you think we should do? Depending on what the naval officials say, I might be able to present the idea and get everyone to agree on it."

"I think..." Rosa began, pausing to think through her answer. She glanced at Henri and he gave her a smile and an encouraging smile, prompting her to go on. It was a bit of a long shot, but she knew she had to try it. At the very least the idea would show Osea that they weren't as stubborn or prideful as they'd set out to portray themselves, and it might ease negotiations. "I think we should give Osea what they want. The submarine mutinied, so it isn't much good to us now. It's our enemy as much as it is their's and they deserve a fair chance at beating it. Not only that, but civilians are the captain's target. While it would be the perfect revenge for their attacks at the start of the war, it would be a petty move to withhold information like this from them. So...ultimately it is your choice. A choice of how honorable a king you wish to be, because you're not only reflecting Erusea but you're reflecting our past rulers and our family."

He studied her face for a moment, and Rosa herself was surprised by what she'd said. She didn't realize she'd had that in her, and yet it all just came out. At last he nodded and gave her a small smile. "You make a very valid point, Rosa. And I'll pass it on to the best of my abilities. But I can't make you any promises."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you to think about what I said."

"And that I will," he said with a nod. He checked his watch and then turned away. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should be on my way now. We'll see what the others think and go from there. Goodbye Rosa. Henri."

The king nodded to each of them, and they both bid him farewell, watching him hurry back inside and slam the door shut behind him. Henri and Rosa both remained where they were, Rosa feeling as hopeful as she had before all of the stress came along. Henri, on the other hand, seemed to be the more skeptical all of a sudden. He tilted his head to one side, a small smile on his face. "You do know that there's no guarantee that the others will share your view? Least of all Parrish?" he asked her. "Your father could very well not pass along your statement, and he might go with whatever the majority rules."

Rosa nodded, taking a deep breath. "That's very true. But...the fact that he was going to take my opinion into consideration is a step in the right direction, don't you think?"

"Well, yes. But I'd keep my guard up, Your Highness," Henri advised her. "If Parrish gets overruled, he might have it out for you more than he already does. And it's my job to protect you from any threats, whether they're our enemy or one of our own."

"I pray that it doesn't come to that, Henri. We shouldn't turn on one another," Rosa said, but she was feeling some doubt. There was already a divide within their government and military. How long before that came to blows? How long before the lines between friend and foe became blurred? But Erusea was a resilient country, and she knew that her father would never allow such a thing to happen. She would never allow such a thing to happen. And whatever other agenda Parrish had, he'd give away on his own. She took a deep breath and turned away from the door, looking back out at the soldiers at the road. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that we won't be forced to hurt one of our own. We're higher than that."

"I hope that you're right, Your Highness. But one can never be too careful. And you're only one person," Henri said to her. "You shouldn't bite off more than you can chew. Nor should making enemies become a habit."

"I'm avoiding that as much as I can, Henri. Parrish sees me as nothing but an enemy, though, and I have no idea what the public or Osea must think of me. The enemies I've made haven't been on purpose," Rosa said, tugging at her sleeves distractedly. "I wouldn't underestimate what one person can do, though. If General Shilage can become somewhat of a one man army, and if Three Strikes can bring havoc upon our forces, not to mention the aces before or after them, then I'd say one person can do more than enough."

"They're soldiers," Henri replied. "I'm only trying to look out for you. It's my job. But I don't want you thinking that you can fight like them. Words are weapons just as much as a missile is one, and you should use your strengths. It just so happens that words are your strength."

"Then I shouldn't have much trouble. I just have to wait until the time is right," Rosa argued, almost desperate for some support from Henri. In spite of their different positions, he was so much like family to her and she would always respect his input on things.

Henri sighed, shaking his head, but he wasn't interested in arguing any longer. "Whatever you do, Your Highness, I just hope that you're careful."

Rosa gave him a grateful smile. "No need to worry, Henri. I will be."

She looked up at the sky, almost longing for the freedom she'd heard that so many pilots had. This war needed to end, if not for her sake then for everyone else's. And at this point, she knew for a fact that she didn't care who the victor was, be it Erusea or Osea. So long as no one else had to suffer. But that possibility still seemed so far away. She wondered if it would be the drones that General Shilage was helping to program or Three Strikes that would bring the victory to their country. She continued to wonder if this Three Strikes understood the same pressure she was under, being a symbol of hope and admiration for so many. And maybe now, even for Rosa. She felt guilty for thinking that, but it was true. She just wished she knew more.

I wish I could do more. But this is all I have, for now.

---

Fort Grays Air Base, East of Usea.
September 13th, 2019.
1200hrs.

Everyone gathered in the briefing room, everyone discussing what could possibly be going on. Knocker was less than enthusiastic about it, figuring that the hype built up around this event wasn't necessary. They likely weren't going anywhere or doing anything important, and yet everyone seemed excited by the order to come in. There had even been some chatter and rumors among the maintenance crew that something big was going to happen, but Knocker had learned over the past few months to not get his hopes up. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for those under his command. While Clown was still hopeful and yet skeptical at the same time, Boggard and Footpad were insisting that they were all going to be in on something big. Faun was the only one sharing in Knocker's doubt, but it seemed that even he was showing some eagerness.

Beside Clown on Knocker's other side, Blaze and Grimm sat side by side, Grimm's hand resting on Blaze's knee with her own hand on his. Knocker had to admit, they made a nice couple, but he had to hope that they wouldn't let their relationship get in the way during a mission. Sure, they weren't official military...hell, they were half of the freaking Ghosts of Razgriz...but Knocker had to have their best interest's at heart. Clown reassured him that any personal relationships they had were set aside during missions, something he'd observed both now and during the last war. They did follow orders well, and their banter was entertaining to listen to, so all Knocker could do was hope that nothing would jeopardize his squadron's safety during the mission.

"Quit lookin' so down for once." Clown's voice startled him, and he turned to face his friend in surprise and confusion. Clown wore a smirk on his face, showing his usual odd amusement. There was some concern in his eyes, perhaps annoyance as well, but it faded as he started talking. "The colonel told us to standby for any further updates. We're probably gonna to get to lend a hand in something important at last, especially with that submarine on the loose. We may even get to see Trigger again. So, why can't you show some enthusiasm?"

"Because there's nothing to be enthusiastic about," Knocker replied, crossing his arms and remaining stiffly seated instead of relaxing like the others. "We could just be getting an update on the situation and I don't want everyone getting their hopes up for nothing. We've been stuck on the sidelines, so why would they suddenly bring us on to an important operation?"

"Maybe because we've been doin' good in other places?" Clown suggested, but he didn't seem as convinced as he did before. "I'm still holdin' onto that theory that the only reason we've been stuck doin' unimportant stuff is because they're punishing us for the operation at the Lighthouse. They threw Trigger out and into prison and they punished us for screwin' up and not keeping a tighter leash on her. Seems likely to me, and even Faun agreed with it when Boggard brought it up. It's possible that they're trying to make up for it, but I guess I can see your point..."

"That's another reason not too get too excited," Knocker answered, recalling the comment himself. It had been a while ago though, and he'd forgotten about it until then. "We can never know for sure."

"But for the sake of keeping up morale, couldn't you just let them enjoy it?" Clown asked him. "If they see that something is off with you then they're going to be worried. Besides, you and I both agree that they should be allowed to enjoy themselves once in a while, after everything that's happened."

Knocker sighed, looking over at his three wingmen. They were eagerly talking about the briefing with each other, joking around a bit as well, their faces lighting up at the possibility of a real, exciting fight. They may have been tired with the simple operations they'd been getting lately, but the second the possibility of a high-stakes mission was brought up they acted like kids at Christmas. He shook his head, reluctant to agree with Clown's more patient and laid back approach but realizing that there was no real reason not to let them enjoy it. Still, he hated to see them get let down when things didn't work out. Finally giving in, Knocker nodded. "Alright, fine. I'll let them enjoy it. I still think it's foolish to let them get their hopes up like this."

If Clown had anything to say to continue the discussion, he didn't get the opportunity, as Colonel Beckett entered the room just as he opened his mouth. He cleared his throat, bringing everyone out of their own conversations and drawing their attention to him. Everyone straightened up in their seats, Blaze and Grimm letting go of one another's hands and the joking from Boggard and the others ceasing as he took his place with their AWACS at the front of the room. Clown chuckled and leaned over to Knocker to whisper to him, "Well, we'll find out if you're right shortly from the looks of things. Now won't we? I just hope you'll be willing to admit if you were wrong."

He said nothing in response, scowling as Clown leaned back in his own seat, satisfied that he'd annoyed Knocker enough. Beckett and Sky Keeper took a quick look around the room, making sure they really did have everyone's attention before the colonel began speaking. "I'm sure you're all curious as to why I've called you away from lunch for this," Beckett said, nodding to Sky Keeper to start up the computer and display the Usean continent on the screen. "As you all know, the advanced submarine Alicorn, which has been pursued by the Long Range Strategic Strike Group, has once again slipped out of our forces' grasp. Surveillance photos captured in Anchorhead by our ground forces show that it arrived shortly after Strider Squadron withdrew from the area and official word from the Erusean government is that the submarine has mutinied and its crew is acting on its own."

"Once again I find myself asking the same question," Boggard said suddenly, lifting his hand slightly to get Beckett's attention. "What does any of this have to do with us?"

Beckett frowned, and for a minute Knocker was worried that Boggard was about to get chewed out for disrespecting him. Footpad and Faun both looked at him with disappointment, Footpad even muttering something to him. Boggard only shrugged, looking between them as if he was confused about their reaction to it. Beckett sighed, glancing at Blaze and Grimm with a look of exasperation before Sky Keeper quietly urged him to continue.

He went on. "Well, Lieutenant. Since you seem impatient today, I suppose I can skip the lengthy explanation. If only for your attention span's sake," he said to them, causing Knocker to roll his eyes and glare at Boggard. Beckett looked over some papers and then pointed to the spot on the screen that Sky Keeper had highlighted. "The LRSSG is planning to locate the submarine and conduct an air operation to destroy it. The intel is that the Alicorn is carrying nuclear weapons and intend on attacking the capital, Oured. Given that our base have the aircraft capable of detecting the submarine underwater and that Fort Grays is one of the closest, we've been asked to assist on the operation."

Everyone looked as though they couldn't believe what they were just told, and even Knocker was taken aback by it. He looked over at Clown, who was equally as shocked but put that aside long enough to give Knocker a smug smile. So Knocker was wrong. Either way, this was what they'd been waiting on for some time now. A chance to get into some real work and now they had an opportunity to fly with Trigger again? To see how she was doing? Knocker felt so guilty for what had happened and he knew that everyone would like to see her again, to be around their friend and former squadron mate. He tried to keep his own surprise and optimism at bay as he asked, "So when are we leaving? When is this operation going down?"

It was Sky Keeper that answered him. "Tomorrow. You'll be flying out tomorrow morning and grouping up with Strider Squadron to refuel, then you'll head on to the location the Alicorn is believed to be at," he explained to them. "Since the LRSSG's AWACS, Long Caster, and their company commander, Major Wiseman, will be overseeing the operation and monitoring the airspace, I'm only going to accompany you halfway. We'll then turn around and head to an allied base before stopping at New Arrows Air Base to rest and hopefully celebrate the mission's end. After that, we're all to return here to Fort Grays and await our next operation. I think that covers about everything. Any other questions?"

"None from me," Knocker said. He looked to the others. "You guys?"

They all shook their heads, and Beckett gave a nod of approval. "Alright then. That covers it. I need you all to prepare for a long flight and a long battle. Stay alert and focus on the bigger picture. We're helping to save countless people, countless innocent people. You're protecting your country and our citizens for real now. This is what you signed up and trained for. Go and make us proud. Dismissed." As they all stood up to leave, just before they reached the door, Beckett called out to Blaze and Grimm. "Hamilton, Grimm. Hold on for a second." The group stopped and both Blaze and Grimm turned to look at him curiously. He looked concerned and almost fearful for a moment, but he took a deep breath and finally said, "Be careful kids. I want all of you coming back, and I want you two to make sure that happens. You got me?"

The couple looked at each other and smiled at Beckett. Grimm was the one that answered him. "Don't worry. We're not gonna let you down."

"You better not," Beckett said, fighting off a smile. He finally cracked, allowing a grin, and shook his head, motioning for the door. "Now get outta here. You've got to get ready for tomorrow."

No one argued with that, everyone practically running out of the briefing room. Boggard, Footpad, and Faun all three whooped as soon as the door to the room shut, Boggard literally leaping with joy. Clown, Knocker, Blaze, and Grimm all chuckled at the display as their younger companions continued their mini celebration. "I can't believe it!" Boggard said with a laugh. "Can you believe it? We're gonna hunt down a submarine! This is like something straight out of a Tom Clancy novel! And not only that but we're gonna see Trigger again! God, you think she remembers us now that she's all big and bad and doin' stuff like this everyday?"

Footpad chuckled. "I don't think she'd forget us. I mean, she and Brownie were like our little sisters. Trigger wouldn't just forget us, especially with how long we've known one another."

"Besides, she's too nice for that," Faun said. "I'm more curious to see how she's holding up in the spotlight. Never was one to be the center of attention."

"She was a showoff though. Even if she didn't intentionally seek out the spotlight, we all know she didn't really mind having it on her either," Boggard pointed out, and this was definitely the happiest Knocker had seen his men in a long time. Boggard eagerly went on, glancing over his shoulder at the briefing room door as they set off down the hall. "Boy, does she have some stories to tell us. And we have some tales, too! I can't wait to see her, and get our gang back together. It's gonna be great flying with her again. Y'know, maybe that grouchy old commander isn't so bad after all..."

"Firstly, you sound like a child, Boggard," Footpad said with a playful look on his face. He laughed as he finished, "Secondly, of course you'd only like him when he gives us something you want to do. You're such a two-faced bastard sometimes!"

At this, Boggard playfully shoved Footpad which led to a small scuffle as the two of them roughhoused a bit. Clown laughed at their antics, but one warning look from Knocker and he was kind enough to intervene, giving Knocker a chance to stop being the peacekeeper for once. "Alright, settle down, y'all. We've got a lot of work to do to get ready."

Knocker nodded in agreement, deciding to step in himself. "Clown is right," he said, crossing his arms as they stepped outside, Grimm holding the door open for them. "We can't take this situation too lightly. I don't want anyone letting their guard down and I want you to prepare for everything. We're not taking any chances, so study up when we're done at the hangar." Everyone sounded off that they understood, returning to their celebration. Knocker was taking this as seriously as he could, but even he had to admit that he was going to be happy to see Trigger again. And from the look on Clown's face, the same went for him. But there would be time for that. For now, they had a sub to chase. They needed to be armed to the teeth. Surely Trigger and Strider Squadron could handle a bit of friendly competition? After all, they were on the same level now.

It would be good to see her again. He only wished it could have been under better circumstances.

---

Oured, Osea.
September 14th, 2019.
0813hrs.

David paced around his office, setting down his half full cup of coffee on his desk. The issues they were all facing were obvious, and there was in fact a fix for them, but he had to be the one to find the required solution. He glanced at his desktop on his computer which was cluttered, several photos and files open and scattered on top of each other. His chat with Alex was empty for the morning, mainly because he was trying to think carefully before he gave the AI any instructions. She was finishing up a simulation he asked her to run, but it wasn't anything extravagant.

The problem he was facing was one of heroes and villains. As far as he could tell, that was why Brigadier General Clemens had joined forces with Captain Foulke's old commander from her time in the penal unit. Because Three Strikes was becoming a hero to some, even bringing hope to some Eruseans to an extent. But after the war, after all the things she'd seen, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't fall down the same path that Captain Torres had taken. Once a mighty, noble hero. A kind and loyal person. One slip up led down a dark path. One that wasn't simple to recover from. And with someone as powerful as Three Strikes, which Torres was, there were few ways to stop them once they made their decision.

He sighed and began voicing his realizations aloud. Mostly to himself, but Alex picked it up. "Some individuals are exempt from rules that should apply to everyone." David stopped pacing, approaching his desk and pulling the window that held a picture of Three Strikes' tail markings and her ID photo beside that, both images side by side with Torres' photo. He took a seat. "A hero is suddenly a risk factor the moment the war is over, having known nothing but chaos for so long. There's no way to know whether they'll fall into a darker place. So you murder him or her. Crude, but effective."

Turning his chair towards his chess board, he moved a black piece and the one he considered the Alicorn in this back and forth game, knocking out a white pawn in the process. "In reality, they've no need for living heroes..." It was a difficult thing to say, and he felt horrible now that he truly understood the weight of his own words and the only thing that could come next. His shoulders fell. "Just dead ones..." Observing the board, he realized that black was incredibly close to winning. A few more moves and the white king would be in checkmate. There were a handful of moves he could try that would in fact change the tide of this mock battle, but they required careful planning and execution.

Picking up the piece he originally dubbed 'Three Strikes', he rolled the white chess piece in his hand and studied it carefully, not taking his eyes off of it. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't fitting together. It wasn't meshing. David finally glanced at his computer, leaning back in his seat slightly. "Here's a question, Alex," he said, still moving the piece in his hand. A nervous movement, something to occupy his mind with. Before he asked the question, though, he looked back at the board. "Can we stop Captain Matias Torres?"

Alex responded after a short pause, processing the question. At last she replied, as usual, rather blandly and robotically. "Outcome depends on if you treat the captain or Three Strikes as a singularity."

"Both are." David said, making his move with the chess piece, wiping out a black pawn and prepping his move to take out the 'Alicorn piece'. The stage was set, and the king was safe for a little longer anyways. David continued, working out his next move as he spoke. "But that's part of the problem. They're both singularities. What happens when two singularities exist on the same field? What happens when a twisted game like this goes on for too long, with no logical or properly predictable outcome?"

There was an almost disappointed chiming sound from Alex's end, indicating an error or problem with the question. She replied. "That requires seven months calculation with current resources."

"We'll just have to trust the guys in the field, then." It was David's turn to be disappointed, and he pushed himself away from the chess board, pulling up the recent file that those in charge of defense sent him. It was of the Alicorn's specifications, and he began to look over them, getting back to work. Briefly he looked out his apartment window. Outside, people were continuing about their day like it was any other weekend, taking their kids to the park downtown or running any necessary errands, be it on foot or driving. It was a normal, chilly Saturday morning. David couldn't help but feel like there was a weight on his shoulders. Unintentionally out loud, he mused, "No one has any idea of what is coming. That today could be their last day. And the pressure is on us to keep them safe."

It actually wouldn't be long before people were gathered in the streets, protesting the war and/or preparing to celebrate the end of the last Usean continental war. Odd to David, considering that there was minimal Osean involvement in that war, aside from a rumor that Mobius One had been Osean. David didn't know much about that, though, not having been interested in going through personnel files so much as he was interested in the upgrades made to the aircraft that Mobius One flew. Still, everyone in this city was at threat and there was no way to postpone the events of the day. Children, families, pets, soldiers...everyone. If they messed up this operation, all of them would be gone in a matter of minutes. Osea would never recover from a blow like this. Torres was a monster that had to be slain.

Alex's voices broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to his computer. "David, evacuate."

The suggestion (or possible order, knowing Alex) caught him off guard, and he stared wide-eyed at his computer screen, focusing on the chat. Perhaps that was the better option, the smart option, and although David's self-preservation instincts tried to tell him to consider the idea, he just couldn't leave. He couldn't let the LRSSG or his country down. All those people would be let down. He shook his head. "No." David stubbornly decided, narrowing his eyes on the Alicorn's specifications, taking a deep breath. "I still have to finish up here. Major Wiseman and Captain Foulke are counting on me. I'm not going to let any innocent people die because of this madman."