Chapter Forty-Four: Service Before Self

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Gardos Air Base, Erusea.
September 29th, 2019.
0800hrs.

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The days had gone by at a painfully slow pace, the pilots of the LRSSG finding it only somewhat easier to go about everything without the anxiety of their missing comrades weighing them down among their losses. Tensions were still high in spite of this, everyone on guard and ready to spring to action at a moment's notice if they needed to. That came with the territory, but that didn't make it any easier.

Although everyone was still struggling, a little over a week had gone by since Fencer and Lanza were brought back. Naomi had kept tabs on their recovery, as had the others, and while the doctors were extremely reluctant to clear them for any sort of duty they eventually agreed under the circumstances at Long Caster and Beckett's requests with the conditions that they were only deployed if absolutely necessary, closely monitored, and reported for examinations daily. While they were both ready to be free from all of the poking and prodding, they agreed to the terms.

The following morning, Naomi was called to Beckett's office along with Count and Fencer, which she'd been expecting after what Long Caster had said. The three of them arrived in tow, standing rigidly at attention the moment they stepped through the door before Beckett motioned to the chairs lined neatly against the wall. "At ease, you three. Pull up those chairs and have a seat, please."

Fencer looked almost relieved, likely still fatigued despite his insistence for days that he was feeling much better physically. It couldn't be easy to be on his feet for long periods of time but he was so restless that he probably was willing to do whatever it took. The three of them did as they were told, Count reaching the wall first and pulling two chairs towards Naomi and Fencer for them before he pulled one out for himself.

After they took their seats things were quiet for a moment. Both Beckett and Long Caster were present, Long Caster choosing to remain standing where he was behind the desk, near the window, while Beckett sat going over some papers. Naomi knew there was no reason they were here to be reprimanded, but that didn't stop her from watching them nervously and wringing her hands together as she sat with her posture straight as a board. The others seemed to be in the same boat, with Fencer quietly drumming his fingers on his knees and Count bouncing his leg. Long Caster looked them over, almost looking amused which helped ease some of Naomi's anxieties but not by much.

At last, Beckett set down what he'd been reading over and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "As I'm sure all three of you are aware, we need to eventually move forward with our operations if we ever want to make it out of this mess. Unfortunately, we're all over the place right now so in order to do that we need to do our best to reestablish our command structure."

"Wiseman handpicked and trained each and every one of you, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you that you three were among his star pupils." Long Caster stepped in and spoke at last, trying to keep his tone light but obviously this was a difficult step for all of them. "The three of you are the best candidates to follow in his footsteps."

Naomi had a feeling this was coming, but hearing it said out loud made her stomach twist in knots. She looked over at Count and Fencer, the two of them looking at her and then each other, looking just as stunned even though at least Count had been prepared for the same thing. Although she didn't doubt their abilities as pilots, far from it, it was still a lot to take in. And there was one question she couldn't help but ask, knowing they were all on the younger side, at least, compared to Wiseman.

"What about Jaeger? Doesn't he have more experience than us?"

"Well, yes and no," Beckett answered her. "While he's been flying for longer and is by no means an inexperienced or average pilot, his combat record isn't as impressive. You three all made ace in a shorter amount of time than he did upon entering service, and since this war began all of you have faced more than enough to match his level of experience."

"And not only that, but he told us the moment the question of command came up that he wouldn't take the position," Long Caster added, shaking his head slightly. "He said he was 'too old' to take it up and insisted he isn't suited for a command. Instead, he said he'd support any one of you the same way he supported Wiseman."

"Since you didn't just pick one of us, I'm guessing we're supposed to work it out among ourselves?" Count asked, raising an eyebrow. "Otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here, right?"

"That's right, O'Connor. Like we said, you three were Major Wiseman's star pupils," Beckett said, adjusting himself in his seat and clearing his throat. "I've seen a lot through the years, both from a PMC standpoint and actual military. I know good pilots when I see them, and I know your commander wasn't wrong to put faith in any one of you. And if you don't believe me, he sang your praises in every single one of his reports. You can read them yourself if you like."

Count swallowed, his expression going blank as he tried to keep down whatever he was feeling. Naomi wanted to find some way to reassure him, but he pulled himself together on his own before she could and quickly replied, "No. Thank you, sir, but there's no need…"

"Well…I guess now that you all know the situation, there's only one thing left to do," Long Caster said, crossing his arms. "Do whatever you need to do. Think about it, talk it out, whatever you have to."

Although he was giving them the time to process and think, Naomi couldn't pin down a single thought or feeling about the situation, let alone any reason why she should take it up over the others. She was emotional and short-tempered, and while her time leading Strider Squadron had taught her a lot that was completely different from having the level of command Wiseman had. Count was his number two in Cyclops, and Naomi trusted and believed in him more than anyone and knew firsthand how far he had come. She would gladly follow him.

Fencer on the other hand had served with Wiseman longer, and probably had at least a couple of years of experience on them to go along with his skill. During Operation Fisherman he had handled his command well and brought Skald and Lanza home from it. Just as she trusted Count to keep the others safe and to watch her back, she would do the same for Fencer.

The possibility of this kind of position scared her. Naomi would do whatever the others asked of her. She would lead or follow whoever she must, so long as all of them came back alive, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be nervous. She was a good pilot, she knew that, but everyone had limits to their confidence and her days of being arrogant in her abilities were fading fast.

Taking a deep breath, she looked over at Fencer and Count, trying not to let her nerves get to her. "Alright, then…what do you two think?"

"Well, for starters I think it's an awful lot to take in." Fencer gave a dry laugh, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor as he went quiet once more.

Count let out a short, tired chuckle of his own. "Yeah, you can say that again…"

Naomi stayed quiet, letting them both work it out in their heads while she went back to doing the same. Beckett and Long Caster waited patiently in the meantime, not saying a word to them or to each other and giving them all the time they needed. A few minutes went by, though it almost felt like an eternity, and Fencer was the first one to make a decision.

"It's not gonna be me," he said at last, clearing his throat and breaking the silence. "It's all up to the two of you."

"C'mon, Fencer, what the hell?" Count asked, expressing the same stunned disbelief Naomi was experiencing. "Don't just back out like that. I mean you're probably a better pick for it than I am!"

"Doesn't matter to me." Fencer just shrugged, and as both Count and Naomi prepared to argue with him, he cut them off. "Trust me, I may have been one of the hotshots before you two but Wiseman knew what he was doing. There was something he saw in both of you that I can't compete with, otherwise Trigger wouldn't have gone straight to the top like she did. As for you, Count, he made you his wingman for a reason. Húxiān told me you pulled yourself together out there when it came down to it. I'd be honored to follow either one of you."

All eyes were on Count now, including Naomi's, as they waited for him to answer. She knew him well enough to know he was taken aback, hoping to calm him down she tried to gently prompt his response. "Count?"

He was only silent for a few moments longer, looking over at Naomi before his expression changed and she saw the exact moment he made his decision. "I won't do it either. Trigger's the best of us, it should be her."

Naomi should have seen his answer coming, but she couldn't help but argue. She respected him too much to let him back down like that. Although she wasn't mad at him, more confused than anything, she couldn't hold back. More forceful than he'd been with Fencer, she said, "You can't be serious, Count! You're really going to give it up just like that, even after what I said to you?"

"I told you, Trigger, I'm nothing compared to you," he almost snapped at her, seemingly annoyed she wouldn't leave it alone.

"Dammit, knock that off!" Naomi wasn't so much frustrated that he wanted her to lead them, but frustrated because he was too damn stubborn to realize how great he was. In Spare Squadron, he hid that behind his ego and competitiveness, but now as he was growing out of it he was selling himself short. "Wiseman saw your potential, just like I said he did. He wouldn't have made you his wingman unless he knew you could take up command if you needed."

"I could do it, but I won't. There's no competition here, anyone can see that," Count told her, crossing his arms and standing firm in his decision. He looked her right in the eye. "After everything that's happened in this war, it needs to be you."

Naomi wondered briefly if there was any way of talking him out of this, but she didn't want to fight with him over something like this. "And what about Cyclops' lead, then?"

"Give it to Fencer," Count answered almost immediately, not breaking his eye contact with her. He closed his eyes, seeming suddenly nervous, before he went on. "Look…before Farbanti, Wiseman told me that you and I made a pretty good team, and for the last few days I haven't been able to get that out of my head. It's made me realize that the only thing I want is to be your wingman. And I'll do my best not to let anything happen to you."

Damn you, Count. Naomi could feel her heart rate quicken, pretty sure the reason her face felt like she was on fire was because she was so frustrated with him. Either frustrated or deeply touched. There was this ache deep in her chest, and she refused to think about why. After everything that had happened leading up to this moment, he had to go there, didn't he?

Long Caster's voice broke them out of their argument, startling Naomi enough that she realized up until that point she'd forgotten the others were listening. "Trigger? You have the final say here."

Both Fencer and Count sat relaxed in their seats, watching her and waiting for her answer. She looked away, staring behind Beckett and Long Caster at the sky outside. A clear, endless blue sky. It was almost peaceful if you didn't think about the ongoing war. All she wanted was to be anywhere but in this office right now, but she couldn't run from the decision. They all trusted her, willing to follow her through the rest of this war, and she didn't want to let them down. She didn't want to let Wiseman down either.

Looking back at Beckett, Naomi finally nodded, trying to have the same confidence in herself that they did. She owed that to them. Taking a deep breath, trying not to let her voice shake, there wasn't any turning back now. "I'll do it, sir. Whatever I have to. And I'll do my best to live up to Wiseman's legacy."

"It's settled, then." Beckett smiled, holding his hand out to Long Caster as the AWACS controller reached into his pocket and dropped something in his hand. The commander dropped the item onto the desk in front of him, sliding it towards Naomi. An oak leaf insignia. "I hope you'll excuse the lack of ceremony, but I believe this belongs to you now, Major."

Naomi looked between him and what was now the symbol of her new position. They were more prepared for this sort of thing than she thought. She reached out and took it up, examining it in her hands. Under a normal circumstance she would have been proud of a promotion, but she knew this was a necessity as much as an acknowledgement. Closing her fist around it, Naomi did her best to smile. "Thank you, Colonel."

"Please, the pleasure is mine. Trust me, you've more than earned it," he said, reassuring her that she had a right to her new position.

The others backed him up, looking happy for her despite the situation. Even Count, now fully aware of all he'd turned down. In fact, the look he gave her was something close to pride, mixed in with a fondness she had only caught a few times in the past. She tried not to dwell on it, but even she couldn't help but feel more pride for herself than she had before. It was a big responsibility, and they believed she was worthy of it.

Long Caster handed another insignia to Beckett, a pair of Captain's bars, likely for whoever took up command of Cyclops. Beckett nudged it towards Fencer, who reached out and took it with a short whistle. "Now, Cyclops Squadron I can handle…heh," he chuckled, tapping Count on the shoulder as he held it out to him. "Count? Last chance, buddy. Say the word and it's yours."

Although Fencer's offer was genuine, with no sign he was teasing at all, Count didn't waver. Not even after seeing he'd be missing out on a comfortable position and promotion. "Forget about it, Fencer," he replied, giving a short chuckle of his own. To avoid the moment getting awkward, he quickly joked, "You're not weaseling out of extra work that easily."

It was hard not to laugh, though not a loud, bursting laughter. The tired kind you let out after a much needed joke to lift your spirits. Satisfied enough with the answer, Fencer leaned back in his chair with a smile and began to fidget with the insignia, while Naomi was left wondering if the joke had been an attempt to throw anyone off his trail. If it was, it certainly worked, but not nearly as much on her as the others. She knew him too well.

Beckett cleared his throat once they'd settled down a bit, drawing their attention back to him and reminding them that the meeting wasn't over. "Well, then, now onto other matters pertaining to the LRSSG…you're already aware of this, Major, but Golem and Mage Squadrons are on their own out here. It's just me and them, so…"

He trailed off, but Naomi filled in the blanks for the sake of Count and Fencer. "You finally decided if they're going to be joining us or not, right?"

"It's…been complicated, but, yes," Beckett said, almost looking nervous to continue. But he did so anyway. "I don't like undermining Hawkins like this, but Long Caster is questioning whether he's even still fit for command and gave me the okay to make this decision. They'll be under your command, Major Foulke, as well as mine."

"Am I missing something or does that mean we essentially answer to you, now?" Count asked, raising a brow with a doubtful look on his face.

"Nothing like that for now, Count," Long Caster said. "We just don't know how long things are going to go on like that, and we need cooperation and communication from everyone."

Everyone looked to Naomi for her reaction, and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. Mostly to herself, she quickly said, "Whew...four squadrons…I can handle that. Just like when we went after the Alicorn, right? Piece of cake."

"I'm sorry. I know a new command is intimidating enough as it is, but rest assured we have complete faith in your abilities," Beckett told her, and she gave a slow nod.

There wasn't anything else that could be done about it, short of leaving her old comrades with their wings clipped. They were pilots, and pilots that she'd have given anything to fly alongside again, even after their assistance with the submarine. She knew could trust them to keep up with Strider and Cyclops.

Naomi realized that there was only one other thing that hadn't been brought up, yet. They had four squadrons, but it didn't mean anything if they didn't have planes to fly. "Alright, then, what are we going to do about aircraft?"

"She's right," Fencer said. "Wish I could have saved my plane, but instead it's a pile of scrap somewhere in Farbanti."

"Yeah, what good's a fighter pilot without a plane?" Count said.

Long Caster crossed his arms. "Well, we've already gotten repairs underway for the damaged aircraft. It's not Miss Mead's magic touch but it'll hold up…as for how we're making up for our losses, well, we're still working on it but it's looking hopeful."

"Really?" Naomi couldn't help but feel suspicious or maybe even worried. For one, she realized that she was slowly coming to a point where she didn't trust anyone but Avril to make repairs and changes to her plane. And second, they were holding something back.

"Even out here there's still strings to be pulled," Beckett said, still evading a straightforward answer. "Once we've gotten your planes up and running, we'll work out rosters for the coming operation."

Fencer and Count looked to Naomi, who couldn't deny she was a bit annoyed they hadn't discussed that with her. But moving forward as planned was better than sitting here and waiting to die, and besides that this was in the works long before today. The three of them stayed quiet, keeping their opinions to themselves.

Long Caster seemed to catch on, though if Beckett saw through them he didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, Long Caster jumped to their rescue. "I think that about covers everything. You should all get some food and rest, it's been a long morning."

"He's right. I appreciate your time, though. We'll let you know when your planes are ready," Beckett said with a nod, standing up and allowing the others to do the same. "Dismissed."

With a quick exchange of salutes, the three of them at last were free to go, shutting the door behind them on their way out before they headed down the hall. As they walked along, Naomi was aware that Count and Fencer were holding back, but she didn't press them. It wasn't until they were outside, away from any eavesdropping soldiers that they broke the silence.

It was Fencer that spoke first, mostly to himself, sounding a little rattled if anything. "So, I guess we're really going ahead with the original plan laid out for our operations, then."

"They bring that up with you, Trigger?" Count asked her, and she looked over to find that he almost seemed annoyed.

"No, they didn't," Naomi admitted after a few seconds, but she wasn't sure how to feel about it. "But I probably would have agreed. We need to do something, and those orders were put in motion long before we even attempted the siege of Farbanti."

Count gave a huff, but he didn't argue with her. "Guess you're right. If you trust them, I suppose I can."

Nothing more was said on the matter, but Naomi still had thoughts she kept to herself. She wondered, given that her father knew this man, if she could trust him or not. If they knew each other, that meant Beckett had dealings with mercenaries in the past (or could have even been one himself), but he wasn't unreasonable, he was official military as it stood now, and if Tailor turned out the way he did she doubted the guy could be all that bad.

Still, with her experiences with shady superiors in the fast, he wasn't above suspicion. For now, though, Naomi would do her best to give him the benefit of the doubt. If not only for the sake of her wingmen.

1730hrs.

The day went by without incident, once again without any sight of hostile activity and so far without any word on their aircraft. Pilots that once found themselves exhausted with too little time on their hands were now left restless with too much time on their hands.

Naomi sat alone in the briefing room, paperwork spread out on the table around her. It was the first thing she'd been saddled with as the newly appointed company commander, some desk jockey chasing her down after her meeting with Beckett and handing it over to her. Without any official office of her own she just came back here.

As the sun began to set, her progress began to slow. She'd opened the blinds, allowing all of the late afternoon sun to pour right into the room, making the already large room feel much more open. And still she felt trapped at the table she sat out, clicking the pen in her hands in and out over actually writing with it, staring down at the personnel files and various reports laid out before her.

Wiseman's file and reports on every operation and each individual pilot were thorough, and while Naomi needed his guidance in any form she could get it was also a very painful reminder he was not around. As soon as she'd begun reading through them she felt herself get stuck, caught up in guilt and grief once again. So, there she sat, accomplishing next to nothing but playing with the spring mechanism in her pen.

A light knock at the half open door to the room caused her to straighten up in her seat in an attempt to look like she was actually working, but when she looked to the door she only saw Knocker. Even across the room she could see the bags under his eyes.

"Hey, Trigger," he said, still lingering in the doorway. The only emotion in his voice was forced, even then it was barely there. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Naomi quickly said, straightening up her workspace as he opened the door the rest of the way and kicked the rubber stopper back in place.

As he began to walk towards the table, she quickly stood up out of habit, but he gave her a confused look that eventually turned to mild amusement. "There's no need for that anymore, Trigger. Especially not now."

She relaxed, pulling out a chair for him across the table from her. "Sorry, still a force of habit, I guess."

"Yeah, it's one of them that's gonna die hard, that's for sure," Knocker said, giving her an understanding look. "But, from what I hear it looks like I'm the one who should be standing at attention for you from now on. I, uh…I heard about your promotion."

"News travels fast, huh?" Naomi gave an awkward laugh, not really sure how to interact with him now. She hadn't even been able to see herself as his equal when the two of them were both captains, adjusting to being his superior wasn't going to be an easy task.

"That Long Caster guy and Colonel Beckett gave us the news. Wanted to let us know what had been decided," Knocker replied, waiting for her to sit down again before he took his own seat, already trying to ease them both into this new order of things. "Fast-tracked to Major…hard to believe you came so far in just a few months. The Trigger I used to know could be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

The joke caused them both to laugh, and Naomi almost wanted to cringe at how she used to be just a few months ago. How had things changed so much in such a short time? From only being on a squadron out of necessity to leading one of her own. Made her wonder how deserving of it she was, but she couldn't change it now. She just had to put in the work to prove to herself it wasn't a mistake.

After a short pause, Knocker spoke again. "So, how does it feel?"

Naomi hesitated, still working that part out in her head. Once you took away her anxiety, it didn't leave room for much else, and even so it was a brand new position. She'd barely had a full day to settle into it.

"Other than being buried in paperwork, I haven't had a chance to do very much," Naomi admitted, flipping Wiseman's file closed, finding it hard to look at it any longer. She took a deep breath. "It's going to take some getting used to, I can tell you that much now, at least."

"You'll do just fine. From what I've seen, you're a great leader to Strider Squadron," Knocker said, leaning back in his seat. "The rest of us trust you."

Naomi nodded slowly, another thought coming to mind. Something she hadn't been able to figure out on her own so far. Desperate for an answer or some guidance on what to do, she asked him before she could stop herself. "How did you deal with all of it?"

Knocker didn't answer right away, at first caught off guard. She guessed from his expression that he probably knew what she was asking, but if he did he needed a moment to answer. "How did I deal with what?"

"Losing someone you're in a command position." Naomi swallowed, feeling like she could start crying. She was thinking of Brownie specifically, he probably was too, but the reason for her question was Wiseman. Careful to keep herself composed, she went on. "When Wiseman went down, and then again today, it really, really hit me that it's my duty to keep them all safe. I don't want to come undone in front of them, but I can't move on either. I know Wiseman wasn't under my command, but the others are all my responsibility now…even you. Let's just say, holding myself together is easier said than done."

They were both quiet for several minutes at least, neither one saying a word. Naomi would have apologized for dumping that on him, but she knew he would understand. As just another pilot it was easy to look at how her leaders handled the situation. But she'd actually been allowed to grieve then. When Full Band went down she did her best to give Count advice, but in hindsight she realized how hard it was to follow her own advice.

"Honestly? You don't. Not really, anyways." At last, Knocker spoke, slowly but clearly. It almost sounded as if he was just trying to keep it together as well. "You know how on airlines they tell you to put your own mask on first, before you can help others? It's sorta like that. If you don't pull it together, you can't help those under your command. But really all you're doing is powering through the pain. It gets easier to do, but you might not ever be able to let it go."

Naomi wasn't sure what else she expected, really, but she listened anyway. Even if she didn't like having to face the reality that she couldn't just turn her emotions on and off like a light switch. While she hadn't exactly let go of Brownie, she knew however much it still hurt her it was probably still hurting Knocker just as much. "You've never let go, then?"

"Losses as far back to those under my first command, when I was in a similar position to yours, still eat me up to this day," Knocker said, avoiding looking at her. He stared out the window, squinting against the sunlight, but she figured he'd take that over breaking down in front of her. "Everything that's happened to you guys in this war, I hold myself responsible for. Brownie, Major Hamilton…even what happened to you after Harling. It's just the burden that comes with command."

He shrugged it off, like it was no big deal, but to Naomi it seemed like he was being too harsh on himself. But she couldn't criticize him without admitting that she was doing the same to herself. Still, she'd started this conversation and it didn't feel right not to say something. "None of that was your fault, though. We couldn't have seen any of that coming."

Sure enough, he turned her words back around on her real quick. "Says the one blaming herself for things out of her control."

"That's different," Naomi said, but she knew there wasn't much of an argument. "I knew what Mr. X was capable of and I wasn't fast enough. I had a chance and I screwed up."

"And I sent Brownie off with another damaged plane and no support, risked a dogfight with exhausted pilots, got overwhelmed and lost sight of you during the rescue op…" Knocker answered, but before she could find a way to protest he went on. "It's our responsibility to bear the weight of these kinds of losses. Whether it's our fault or not, it doesn't change anything. You just have to make sure it never happens again."

"'Just how war is these days'?" She recalled one of Clown and Knocker's exchanges during the earlier parts of the war.

He nodded. "Just how war's always been. The scars from it don't ever go away, they just get easier to live with."

Naomi almost wanted to scoff. "Really? When?"

"When it's all over and done with and you don't have to fight anymore," Knocker replied. "After everything's finished and everyone's home. Just a game of survival."

There wasn't anything else Naomi could think to say, one of the few occasions she found herself at a loss for words. She couldn't think of a way to comfort her former commander, but there wasn't any way or reason to argue with him. There wasn't anything left to be said, either, at least not on that topic.

The brief silence ended when a voice on the PA system came to life, almost startling Naomi as she expected a warning of some sort to follow but she was instantly allowed to relax as the voice instead gave a simple, short order. "All Long Range Strategic Strike Group pilots report to Hangar A. Repeat–"

Without any urgency to the page, Naomi didn't feel the need to rush, but being sick and tired of a seemingly endless flood of papers as well as too curious for her own good she didn't hesitate in shoving her chair back and getting on her feet. With Knocker close behind her, she led the way as she set off for the hangars.

After being inside for several hours, the excuse to stretch her legs was a welcomed one. The walk from the main HQ to the hangars felt shorter than it had when they'd first arrived here. Whether it was because she was accustomed to the base's layout at this point or because she wasn't making the walk while barely able to stand she didn't know, but she wasn't complaining given that it wasn't a scenic walk by any means.

When they finally arrived at the hangar, the other pilots were already waiting for them outside on the flight line where the aircraft of Cyclops and Strider were lined up. At least, all except for Naomi's and a replacement for Fencer. One of the other main hangars had Golem and Mage's planes lined up, with an additional F-16 for Mage Squadron. She couldn't help but wonder if that was wishful thinking or if it served another purpose, but she figured she would find out soon enough.

As they approached their wingmen took notice of them, everyone giving either a nod of acknowledgement or a quiet greeting. Knocker made a beeline for the other pilots from Golem, where Tailor, Hans, and Clown stood hovering about quietly, while Naomi came to a halt among those from Cyclops and Strider, Tabloid included.

"Hey," Count said to her as she stopped beside him. With a playful smirk he then asked, "How'd the new office job go?"

Naomi tried not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh from her, so she stifled it as best she could while the others gave her looks of amusement that made it very difficult to do. "Fantastic," she said with deadpan sarcasm. "You have no clue what you're missing."

"Hmm, really?" Count asked her, shaking his head with a dry laugh. "I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Well, paperwork aside, congratulations on your promotion, Trigger," Jaeger said, giving her a soft smile. "You've more than earned it."

"I can't think of anyone better for it," Tabloid added, a look of pride across his face. For a moment he reminded her of her brother the day she graduated. "Not a doubt in my mind that you've had what it takes."

"You scare the hell outta me sometimes, but they're right," Húxiān said, a comment which Naomi took as high praise from her. As if she could tell all of the compliments were flustering, she changed the subject soon after. "That being said, I'm guessing you'd know what we're doing out here. And from the looks of things, I'm betting it has somethin' to do with our aircraft, right?"

Naomi knew from the conversation earlier that day that Beckett had something up his sleeve. But their guess was as good as hers. Sounds of conversation behind them interrupted her before she could answer, and Naomi turned to find Beckett heading their way with her father right beside him. Turning back to the others she answered Húxiān's question. "I guess we're about to find out."

The two old allies – which was the best word Naomi could think to describe them, because their friendship appeared shaky at best – looked to be discussing something important, judging by their expressions. Whatever it was, they kept it to themselves once they were in earshot, her father the one to end the conversation.

Naomi hadn't seen much of her father over the last few days, and she almost wondered what he'd been up to. Given that there wasn't much for him to do these days, anyways, she guessed he was probably finding odd jobs he could help out with. Honestly, who knew with him anymore?

Her father changed course to head her way, Beckett following, and he gave her a tired smile. She did her best to return it, but was sure she probably looked just as burnt out as he did. As soon as he reached her, he wasted no time in sharing the sentiment the others had. "Well, well, I suppose congratulations are in order, right, Major?"

"You're going to be just as embarrassing as you were for every other milestone in my life, aren't you?" Naomi was only teasing him. She knew he was proud of her, and given he was also just as cut off from their family now she could let him have the moment.

"Don't give me a hard time," he said, joking but still feigning a scolding look and tone. "Your brother and sister got the same treatment growing up. Not my fault you kids turned out so well. I'm proud of you."

"I'll only accept that if you give yourself some credit," Naomi said, crossing her arms. Once again teasing him as she said with exaggerated respect, "Our father, the great Solo Wing Pixy."

Her father shook his head, glancing at Beckett with a look that was a mix of exasperation and amusement before he told her, "Alright, alright. It was a joint effort with your mother, that work for you?"

"Sure, why not?" Naomi said with a chuckle, the rest of her wingmen listening in and trying their best not to look like they were. With nowhere else for that conversation to go, she decided to make small talk. "So, where've you been the past few days?"

"Busy," he answered, his expression and tone shifting slightly.

Naturally curious, and perhaps even a bit concerned, she asked, "With what?"

"You'll see soon enough. Which reminds me, actually…" he said, looking over at where Beckett was seemingly waiting for him to finish up their conversation. "You and PJ can chat for a bit, I have to go take care of something."

Just like that he was off, nodding to the other pilots as he left and heading for the closed up hangar. Naomi had never been caught off guard by surprises, or at least not often, but she was willing to humor people and not ruin the experience for others. Clearly there was something going on and whatever it was had to do with their planes. She wondered now if the surprise was going to be a bad one or not. Best case scenario their planes received some almost Scrap Queen level magic, worst case scenario something had been royally screwed up.

As everyone watched as he disappeared through the smaller side door to the hangar, Beckett stepped closer to the pilots. Everyone moved to stand at attention as he moved to address them, some of them only then taking notice of him, but he was quick to motion for them to relax. The man really didn't seem to like all the fuss they made, not like it was their fault they were required to.

"Don't make such a fuss. This is y'all's moment," he told them, smiling to set them at ease. "I'm here mainly because of Pixy in there. He helped me sort out the aircraft situation for you guys, he wanted me to see the work pay off, or something like that."

"On a similar note–" Fencer chimed in from nearby, "–do we have any idea what our rosters are looking like for all following operations?"

The question was intended for both Beckett and Naomi, and it got Knocker and Clown's attention on them as well. Beyond Count as Strider 2 – a position he clearly wanted – she had no idea how to reorganize them. That was part of the reason she'd been going over what Wiseman had on them. Learning everyone's strengths, the things Wiseman saw and not just what she observed, would help her organize a suitable team.

Beckett answered before she could say anything. "I'll go over it with Major Foulke in the morning, don't worry. You'll all be ready when we go ahead on the next operation, don't worry."

"Guess I'm working tonight, then," Naomi said, mostly to herself, though she was sure others could hear her.

"Paperwork isn't looking so fantastic anymore, is it?" Count clearly couldn't help but comment dryly, and she glared at him while trying to fight a smile. He chuckled when she couldn't hold back a scoff, but she was just grateful she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

The sound of the heavy hangar doors clanking as they began to slide open put an end to any further conversations. Everyone's eyes were naturally drawn to the source of sound and movement, curiously watching as the doors parted and the lights inside flickered to life, revealing the two aircraft being stored inside.

Side by side in all their glory sat a pair of Raptors, both with the same sleek gray body and perfectly polished cockpit. A jet still capable of rivaling experimental fighters despite its older development, produced in limited numbers and only to a handful of countries, Osea had pioneered the aircraft and to most in the OADF it was an unofficial status symbol. A titanium bird of prey, designed for stealth and speed. One that Naomi never would have even considered in the cards for them, at least not all the way out here.

Colonel Beckett crossed his arms, studying everyone's reactions before he spoke. "Major Foulke, Captain Winters, take a good look at your new aircraft."

"Colonel, if this is your idea of a joke–" Fencer began, giving an awkward laugh and almost looking in a state of shock. He probably could have fainted on the spot.

"Hardly," Beckett gave a laugh, something that at least set Naomi at ease. "The LRSSG is full of incredibly capable pilots, and if we intend to make it through the rest of this war then I figure our poster children deserve the best tech we have to offer."

Naomi chuckled, feeling like a kid on Christmas. "Holy shit…"

Her father stood between the two planes, looking proud he'd finally managed a decent surprise. The group of pilots muttered amongst themselves in awe as they all moved closer, closing the several feet between them and the hangar entrance. As soon as they were in earshot, specifically speaking to Naomi and Fencer, he asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"I think you two must have had a hard time getting the IUN to hand these birds over," Hans answered instead, examining the nose of the plane like he was looking over a piece of fine art. As far as they were all concerned that's exactly what he was doing. "What did they have them all the way out here for if they weren't using them?"

"They had them stationed here for a different squadron, I believe," her father said. "But they lost their pilots, so they're just sitting idle."

"Since I'm still IUN as far as the military is concerned and I took up command here, I had some influence," Beckett added. "And your father was there to help negotiate, too. As you can imagine, they weren't keen on signing them off to us."

"But we needed planes and it's a shame for these to go to waste." Her father said. As he spoke, the rest of them were far too occupied by the new toys to really second guess anything about the situation, but Naomi almost felt guilty taking them like that. Her father went on. "And as far as weaponry is concerned, we've found a way to attach the pulse lasers to it for added versatility in combat. Not that it's a very limited aircraft to begin with, though."

"Go big or go home, right?" Naomi asked rhetorically, running her hand along the side of the aircraft. Text under the cockpit caught her eye. Her new rank along with her name and TAC stenciled onto it in bold lettering. Absent was the faded red wing from her Eagle, but on the tail the familiar three strikes had been carried over to her new plane, a mark showing that it was entirely hers. It was something that made the moment very real, but it still didn't really feel that way yet.

"With the reputation Cyclops and Strider have it's only right that their flight leads look the part," Beckett said to them, even smiling a bit. There looked like there was something more he wanted to say, same went for her father, but Naomi noticed that both of them held back. "Anyways. They're powerful, reliable aircraft, fine tuned to its pilot's needs. I'm sure you've familiarized yourselves with them in the past, but a refresher won't hurt."

"Yes, sir," Fencer said, still taking in the moment as he and the rest of the LRSSG continued to admire the new aircraft.

Count let out a short whistle as he stood beside Naomi's F-22. "Damn, Trig…if the enemy wasn't already scared of you, they sure as hell are gonna be now. I wouldn't want anyone to come at me in one of these, let alone you."

"You can say that again," Tabloid said, still smiling now that the initial surprise had worn off of them. "I'm betting there are plenty of brass out there that would be losing their minds if they found out how far you've come, Trigger."

Naomi couldn't help but give a short, light chuckle. They barely wanted to admit she wasn't guilty, and as Clemens had made quite clear they didn't trust her. Didn't change the fact that she and the others had proven themselves countless times, and there were people out there that had faith in her. In them. With the current situation, those who didn't weren't of much importance.

Half-joking, she couldn't help but say, "Yeah, well, if they have a problem they can just court martial me again."

Beckett gave her an understanding look. "Those who still don't believe your innocence after everything don't have as much influence as you think," he said. "Besides, they have plenty of people they'd have to go through for that."

She wondered – if he was an ace from the Belkan War and on the allied side at that – how much power and influence he had. For someone who was just a colonel serving with the IUN, he seemed to have a lot of strings to pull. Still, it didn't really matter much. At least not at that moment.

"Anyways, I need to get going," Beckett continued. "We're going to brief you all on our next mission as soon as we're able to tomorrow. So…get some rest, but don't forget your homework. The plane's not gonna fly itself."

Naomi nodded, giving a small smile in response. "Right. Thank you, sir."

With that, he took his leave, everyone watching as he left the hangar and headed back towards HQ.

As everyone found new things to discuss, Naomi remained where she was, still staring up at the Raptor. She would get used to it before long, but she almost didn't want to. Sure, it felt like someone should pinch her or give her a nice kick to the shin to wake her up, but it was something to feel…good about. A reminder there was still hope after all, she guessed.

She was aware of Count moving to stand beside her, also still admiring the plane. Although he was still stubborn about the decision he'd made, she couldn't help but ask, "Still sure that you don't regret turning the position down?"

He gave a breathy laugh, which she couldn't help but smile at. "At this point a whole squadron of Raptors couldn't change my mind. Besides, someone's gotta keep you from doing anything stupid, right?"

Naomi didn't know how to answer right away. The feeling from earlier that morning had returned. That ache in her chest and the way her heartbeat quickened at his words. He'd been a pain in her ass more often than not, but she couldn't think of anyone else she wanted to be her wingman. How could one person set her at ease and scare her to death at the same time like this? It was ridiculous.

"Thank you." It was hard to pin down exactly what she was grateful for at this point, but she couldn't think of anything else to say to him. It was his turn to be at a loss for words, and it was a few seconds of silence before she managed to make sense of her own thoughts and added, "For trusting me the way you do."

"Heh…I think I should be the one thanking you, then," Count said, almost awkwardly trying to laugh it off and dismiss the comment. It sounded like he was doing his best not to get flustered. "We only have each other to rely on now. All of us, I mean. And if there's anyone who can lead us through this, I know you can. And with this bird on your side you're unstoppable."

"Can't argue with you there," Naomi said. His faith in her was inspiring. To think the two of them would have ever gotten this far.

The Raptor looked all the more beautiful and intimidating with a shift in lighting as the sun began to set further beneath the horizon, a sight that made her cocky fighter pilot side restless and eager to be able to fly. She had no idea how she pulled half the stunts she did, it was just an instinct she'd picked up, but there was no telling what else she was going to be capable of with this thing in her hands.

It was the pilot and their skills that mattered, not the plane, but the right plane sure made things a hell of a lot easier. Tired as she was, Naomi was looking forward to the thrill and rush of testing her limits with her new plane.

September 30th, 2019.
0500hrs.

Naomi was used to functioning on less sleep than the few hours she'd gotten that night, but it didn't mean she felt any less dead from it. Her body and brain were exhausted, but she powered through like always, drinking coffee that she didn't like and that didn't work to trick herself into staying in motion. At the very least, she had accomplished what she set out to do that night.

The squadrons' new rosters were finalized, after hours of pouring over operation reports and personnel files and combat assessments, Naomi submitted them to Beckett. Perhaps he was surprised to see she had added his son to the lineup, but he did not question her judgement on any of these decisions. They needed every pilot they had.

Going forward with what she had, with Fencer as Cyclops 1 and Count as Strider 2, she went about assigning the others based on skills. In the end, Fencer's wingmen consisted of Skald, Tabloid, and Lanza, while the remaining slots in Strider were filled by Jaeger and Húxiān. Tailor would be added to Mage Squadron, filling what was formerly Kathryn's position. Naomi was hesitant to add him to Strider or Cyclops, but this way if they had to have everyone in the air he would be following the lead of more experienced pilots.

There was now only one final step before the operation would be underway. Roused from her short sleep only a few minutes prior, Naomi sat now leaned over a chair in the briefing room with a cup full of coffee that did absolutely nothing for her. She was either immune to caffeine at this point or it had the opposite effect and she was too dumb to realize it.

The others were still being woken up around the barracks, so the only people Naomi had for company was Colonel Beckett and Long Caster. They went over the short version of the operation briefing with her, giving her a general idea of what they'd be dealing with. An escort mission, in enemy territory, when they likely couldn't even tell who their allies were and who the enemy was.

Naomi was unsettled by this, but she knew this was planned before everything had gone to hell, and it was too late to back down now. They needed to do something, and this would bring them closer to ending the war and going home. She'd do whatever it took.

She kept quiet as she watched Long Caster fighting to get the computers to function offline, managing to get past the startup at least. Now the trick was getting it to pull up displays of the globe from previous data on hand. Naomi didn't have any better ideas than resorting to the massive, potentially almost outdated paper maps hung up on the other end of the room, so she left him to it.

A small, plastic wrapped bar dropped onto her head suddenly and fell down into her lap, just barely missing the cup of coffee in her hands. From the looks of things it was one of those protein bars they offered in the mess. It briefly startled her, but she and her siblings had been on the receiving end of this gesture too often in her childhood not to recognize it.

Straightening up, she picked the bar up and tossed it back to her father, not giving him the satisfaction of a childish and exaggerated response like she might have when she was younger. Flatly, she greeted him, "Good morning."

With ease he caught the item she threw back at him, the small smile he had put on fading slightly. "It won't be a good morning if you don't eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Naomi said. It was a lie, of course, but she didn't want to worry him. She didn't need him to be worried about her, either.

"I've seen you at the mess hall once in the last two days." The tone he used was more concerned than the one he'd use for any kind of stern lecture. It was true, though, she hadn't been eating much in the last week. She just kept forgetting. He crossed his arms. "You can't just not eat."

"Long Caster hasn't been eating much, either," Naomi said, more of an observation in an attempt to get his attention off of her. It wasn't a juvenile attempt to throw him under the bus, honestly she genuinely was more concerned for their AWACS operator than herself. "I don't think he's been eating at all, actually."

Her father followed her gaze across the room.

Long Caster didn't look anything like himself in the past week. The very regular eater had barely touched a meal lately if at all, and the physical signs of stress were starting to show. It looked like he'd lost a few pounds, and his usually neatly combed ginger hair was a disheveled mess he'd barely put any effort into other than occasionally running his hands through it. Naomi was worried for him, but didn't know how to say anything. Or even if it was her business at all, whether he was her friend or not.

"Hm." Though her father watched him with a thoughtful and sympathetic look on his face, he quickly turned his attention back to Naomi. His expression had softened along with his tone. "Long Caster is not my child. You aren't any good to anyone if you don't keep your strength up."

"I have coffee," Naomi said in a half-hearted attempt to argue. She knew he was right. She knew it was stupid to not eat, even though she was hungry. Even if a lack of appetite meant she had to force the food down her throat.

"Coffee's not a meal," he answered almost immediately, appearing confident he was winning. "When did you start drinking that crap anyways?"

"Few months ago." She shrugged, staring down at the dark liquid. After a few seconds she gave in, holding the mug out to him. He'd won from the start, she just wouldn't accept her defeat. "Here. I'll trade you."

He made a sound that was almost close to a laugh, giving her an exasperated look as he took the coffee from her and tossed the protein bar at her again instead of handing it to her. She didn't even try to catch it, letting it fall in her lap again and giving him an annoyed look. Leave it to him to lighten the mood in the weirdest ways. All he did was shake his head at her lack of effort.

Though he had just called it 'crap', he didn't have any issue taking a nice long sip of the coffee. At least it didn't go to waste. Naomi had barely even taken a full sip from it, liking the smell far more than the taste. Nevertheless she'd kept drinking it over the months in hopes it would miraculously start working.

Once he'd swallowed the coffee, he carefully took the seat next to hers, watching to make sure she actually intended to eat what he brought her. As she tore away the plastic with ease, he changed the conversation topic, this time actually choosing to lecture her.

"If you're going to take charge now, you have to keep yourself in check," he said, and she was aware of him watching her as she ate. "Whatever happens to you affects everyone around you. I thought you knew this by now."

"Of course I do." Naomi didn't snap, but she didn't appreciate feeling like he was talking down to her. Obviously she knew that. She took another bite, chewing with some difficulty given the texture but waiting until she swallowed before she continued. "It's just that food for myself isn't very high on my list of priorities, in case you haven't noticed how things are now. And it's not like we're safe out here. I'm on edge, that's all."

"Expecting the unexpected comes with the territory," her father said. "But there's a fine line between preparedness and anxiety. Everyone's looking to you as an example, and if stress is weighing on you…"

He didn't finish his thought, but she got the picture. It wasn't like she wanted all of them to see her exhausted and hungry, not after all of this, but they weren't here right now. She closed her eyes. "I know. It's just going to take some getting used to."

Her father sounded almost understanding as he went on. "I'm not saying you can't struggle, but you don't want to make things any harder on yourself than they need to be."

Although she'd tried not to touch on the topic of her father's past since their discussion, Naomi couldn't help but ask, "Did your flight lead ever have this problem?"

It was hard to imagine a pilot that was known and feared far and wide as the Demon Lord of the Round Table to ever struggle with something like this. To ever let stress weigh on him. But Naomi didn't know Cipher, they hadn't given her the chance to. Not the way her brother and sister knew him as an uncle, certainly not the way her mother and father knew him as a brother. If they'd been like family, it was a family Naomi was not a part of.

So she couldn't help but wonder.

Even though she had only been promoted yesterday, she had started to feel the burden of leadership the moment she failed over Farbanti. And she knew it was all uphill from here, not that she wasn't willing to face the challenge.

Her father didn't answer right away, and when she looked over at him there wasn't any particular emotion visible in his expression. He took a sip of coffee, then shrugged. "If he did, it was long after I turned my back on him. In the mercenary business you play the hand you're dealt, and you don't fuss…but him? I dunno, somewhere along the way he changed. Hell, maybe we both did. From what your mother and sister told me, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Naomi had considered she might have been crossing a line or pressing a touchy subject, and she almost regretted asking. Or at the very least felt bad about it.

He was quiet for a minute, then reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Forget about it, I'm not upset at you for it. You have a right to know," he said. "But in this case I don't have a lot of experience to speak from. Leadership isn't really my thing. And that's because it's a massive pain in the ass."

She couldn't help but smile, which was likely what he intended. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Look, I'm not sure how much it helps, but I've seen my fair share of aces and soldiers in my lifetime," he said, taking another swig of coffee. "At the end of the day you just need to look out for your teammates and they'll look out for you."

"That much I've mostly figured out, I think," Naomi said, not that she didn't appreciate anything he had to offer her.

Across the room the computers finally chimed as the large display it was connected to lit up, finally willing to bring up whatever system it needed to. Right as it blinked to life, casting a blue glow around the dimly lit room, the door to the briefing room opened and the rest of Strider and Cyclops filed inside, met by Long Caster almost cheering as the electronics finally cooperated with him.

"Well, hallelujah," Beckett said with a smile, taking notice of both the arrival of the others as well as Long Caster's victory. "Great work, Long Caster. And perfect timing, too. Good morning, ladies and gentlemen."

They all shut the door behind them, still waking up but nevertheless cleaned up and in uniform, ready for action if they needed to be. At the almost cheerful greeting they received they all gave Beckett looks that were either blank or that made it clear they were exhausted and not yet in the mood for any friendly chats. Which, lucky for Beckett and them, was not why they were here.

Naomi's father stood up to move seats, allowing them more room, which he initially did upon Count and Tabloid's approach but the latter motioned for him to stay put and sat next to him, while Count took up the free seat beside Naomi. One by one, everyone took their seats, some practically letting themselves fall into the chairs. Almost all of them stretched out, leaned back in the chair or against their fist, and made themselves comfortable. She wouldn't have blamed them if they all just fell asleep.

"The colonel's awfully chipper," Húxiān commented from where she sat, loud enough that Beckett no doubt heard her.

"Yeah, no way that ain't an act," Count said with a scoff. To Naomi he said, "You look tired. When did they drag you out of bed?"

"Maybe a half-hour or so ago, to give me a pretty basic rundown of the operation," Naomi replied, stifling a yawn. Now that she brought it up, it had probably been longer. "Beckett offered to handle the actual briefing anyways, though."

"What, they don't think you're ready for something like that?" Tabloid asked out of genuine curiosity rather than taking offense on her behalf.

It was Jaeger's turn to speak up. "It's one less thing on Trigger's shoulders. She's taking on a lot as it is, handling a briefing isn't something she needs to do."

There wasn't any room for argument when he put it like that. Admittedly, she was grateful she wasn't asked to give the briefing. Not because she was nervous about handling it, but because she couldn't even think about where to start. Formality wasn't her strong suit.

"Long Caster, how are we looking?" Beckett asked, drawing everyone's attention to him and the screen he stood in front of.

"Almost got it, Colonel, one moment," Long Caster said.

After typing out a few things, the steady chime ceased and the screen pulled up the display of the Usean continent with a quick trill. Typing in yet another ID and passcode, it allowed him access to the map, almost immediately showing a connection error in red lettering off to the side beside the LRSSG's emblem. However, it still allowed them to work with it as they needed, which was better than nothing.

Although apparently disappointed he wasn't a miracle worker, Long Caster looked up from the computer and nodded. "Ready whenever you are. Sorry, this is as good as you're gonna get from it."

"No sweat, it's the best you can do," Beckett said, taking center stage alongside the screen. He looked out at them all, hesitating only briefly before he took a breath and raised his voice so it carried across the room. "Now, you're all well aware that Erusea's communications networks have been since their satellites were destroyed, and that unfortunately we're experiencing trouble, too."

He nodded to Long Caster to go ahead and zoom in on the map, setting out various areas in red to show the areas Erusea currently occupied. Beckett went on. "As far as we can tell, all of Usea has been affected, and we don't know when things will be back up and running. Still, we'll follow the strategy that was originally planned and move on to the next operation after the capture of Farbanti. Let's get to it, shall we?"

The map zoomed on the continent near a pin Long Caster put down, displaying the region around Anchorhead front and center. While the others looked to her, wondering what else was left in that area, Naomi kept her focus on the map. She knew the gist of this already, so the area wasn't a surprise.

"Since the war began, we've been receiving communications in secret from an officer in the Erusean Army," Beckett quickly explained, pulling up a portrait and brief profile of the officer in question. On the older side, with a mustache and graying blond hair. "General Éduoard Labarthe has been outspoken about his disapproval towards this war, though those that openly supported him were previously few and far between. But with the way things have progressed, as well as considering their capital is under our control, it's reasonable to assume that the balance of power has begun to shift."

"Alright. So what's this guy have to do with us?" Fencer asked, not allowing any impatience to show but he was no doubt ready to just get to the point.

"HQ is thinking of using this officer as a way to gain leverage to settle peace negotiations," Beckett replied. The area Long Caster pinpointed previously was now expanded above the regular map, showing Anchorhead Bay and its immediate surroundings. "General Labarthe is currently hiding in the outskirts of Anchorhead Bay, having joined up with support dispatched from the Osean Army. They've been hiding out there for a while, facing the same trouble we have, but they'll be on time. This operation is too important, regardless of the risks."

"That's where you all come in," Long Caster supplied, further enhancing the map to show the display of allies and a path those on the ground would be taking.

"That's right. The plan is that they'll take a standard vehicle to a rendezvous point at a harbor in the east side of the city, where a helicopter will be waiting," Beckett said, marking the destination accordingly himself. "I would like the new Strider Squadron to provide escort for the general, while Cyclops will remain at the base on standby to serve as defense, alongside Golem and Mage if need be. Though with the communication network down and no contact with the capital, I very much doubt that Erusea will be able to launch a regimented counterattack."

"What about any Erusean units still in Anchorhead?" Skald asked. "Assuming it's still a warzone even after we cleaned their ships out."

"Erusea wasn't deterred that easily. As far as we can tell, they still have the city under martial law, and our forces have had a hell of a time breaking through in preparation for this operation," Beckett answered him. Although the screen displayed the path the officer would be taking, there wasn't any way they could show enemy locations. "It's likely that Erusea's intelligence department and the remaining forces who are aware of the general's movements will try to interfere. Keep a close eye on your objective and make sure he stays safe. Our victory in Farbanti and this officer have given us a golden opportunity to end this war, and I don't tell you this lightly."

Naomi almost felt like she couldn't breathe. Farbanti was supposed to end the war, and now look where they were. Escorts were easier said than done in a warzone, as her final operation under McKinsey's command proved, but she wanted to allow herself to hope. Even just a little.

It was Long Caster that spoke next, pulling up a somewhat hypothetical situation on the screen. "Take note that our satellite-based IFF has become unreliable following the recent communications failure. As such, target ID will be done by processing the images from the infrared cameras on your aircraft," he said, showing an unidentified pin closing in on the pin representing Strider Squadron. "Objects will initially appear as 'UNKNOWN' on your HUD, but we'll be able to ID them once you've closed in on them for a set period of time."

Beckett was quiet for a moment, looking over each and every one of them. Then finally, he spoke, his tone heavier than it was before. "This is quite possibly our last hope. We're all counting on you. Please…be safe out there. Dismissed."

The map disappeared, displaying now the two squadron emblems with the LRSSG emblem in the center. Beneath each emblem being the lineup for their respective squadrons. Everyone gave it a once over, Tabloid almost looking in disbelief that he was finally given an official position.

Naomi figured he'd do well in Cyclops, though she wouldn't have minded having him in Strider. Really, though, she wanted Jaeger there to support her. He'd helped her pull Count together and he'd served her well this far, not to mention he was the voice of reason in contrast to Naomi, Count, and Húxiān's tempers. Not having him as her wingman almost didn't feel right, and besides Tabloid could stretch his wings more with new wingmen. Give him the freedom he needed.

After they established who was flying where, her wingmen from Strider Squadron now looked at her, awaiting her instruction. Count was the first to speak, almost immediately settling into his new role. "Alright, boss, what's the game plan?"

Naomi wasn't used to hearing that from him, not after he joked about Lanza calling her that, but it was able to relax her a little. Surprisingly. She looked around at them, swallowing her own doubts and anxieties for their sake. "We're heading out tomorrow as soon as we're able. Get some rest, get any preparations done, and leave the worrying to me. Sound good?"

"No arguments here," Húxiān said, allowing a small smile.

Jaeger also smiled, although his was the somber, almost reassuring kind. "There's no need to worry, Trigger. We'll be okay."

Naomi looked around at them, not one disagreeing with him or arguing. It was enough that she could allow herself to believe that. "Okay. Like Beckett said, all of you just…stay safe. I'll do my best to make sure of that, anyways."

"No sweat, Trigger," Count told her, though his voice and expression were comforting to her, not cocky. "We've got this."

For all of their sakes, Naomi hoped that was true. Just like she hoped they might finally be one step closer to the end of this war.