Chapter Fifty-Three: Solution
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Shilage, Erusea.
October 20th, 2019.
1130hrs.
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Erusean forces weren't so easily deterred, and those that knew of the stockpile of supplies in Shilage Castle had made a desperate attempt to launch an attack. But unfortunately for them, they were intercepted before they were even within visual range of the town. Not by Sol Squadron, though they had been eager for a chance at another dogfight, but instead by other Voslagian pilots. Mihaly knew his wingmen and their aircraft were far too valuable to waste on a simple intercept, but looking at how disappointed they were at having missed out on the fight he almost felt bad for them.
They wanted to defend the land that had been taken from them, just like their comrades-in-arms, and while they had celebrated the other pilots' victory they clearly wished they could have done more about it. Wit in particular, as much as he looked up to Mihaly and was willing to obey him. It was clear that as honorable and loyal as he was, he was still a bit eager for a fight, which wasn't something Mihaly could really fault him for. He was like that, too, once upon a time. Idealistic and impulsive.
Of all of the pilots Mihaly had ever flown with, most of which even taught by him, Wit bore the closest resemblance to Thirteen in any pilot he'd ever met. Though he had a bit more of a reckless side if his temper ever got the better of him, and though he was blinded by admiration, Mihaly couldn't think of a better pilot as his successor. Even if he felt bad comparing him to Thirteen when he didn't hold the others to the same high standard, the truth was it was the highest honor Mihaly could think of. He'd trained them well, every last one of them, and he was certain now that without them they could stand on their own. Well, he still had much he wanted to teach them, though.
Figuring he may as well start now, Mihaly looked to where Wit sat. They were back at the civilian airstrip, biding their time and staying out of the way, waiting for Three Strikes to show up. Mihaly had a gut feeling it would be any day now, but if it wasn't her then it would be some other cocky squadron picking a fight out of desperation. Until he could be certain Three Strikes wasn't coming, which he doubted was the case, he wasn't going to push them to fly more than absolutely necessary. On the ground, they still had things to learn and study, and lately they'd been trying to think up a worthwhile strategy against the Snowbirds.
"Wit." All of his wingmen looked up as Mihaly called Wit over, surprised and maybe even concerned. There was a good distance between them all, enough that a private conversation could be had but not so much he needed to raise his voice much to be heard. Mihaly took a breath, certain in what he wanted to say to Wit. "I want a word with you."
Not protesting, Wit excused himself and approached without hesitation. He seemed a bit confused for a moment, but he quickly put on a poker face as soon as he reached Mihaly. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all," Mihaly replied, glancing at the others to be sure they weren't listening in. They had gone back to their own discussions, the only attention they gave Mihaly and Wit being the occasional glance their way here and there. Satisfied, he was willing to continue. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you, that's all. Being a pilot…is that something that's important to you?"
Although Mihaly wasn't watching for his reaction, Wit sounded almost taken aback by the question when he answered. "Of course it is. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. The sky…it feels like home to me."
Mihaly wondered briefly if Wit only answered that way because he thought it was what he wanted to hear, but when he looked over at him it seemed his words were genuine. "Yet you're very focused on restoring Shilage and Voslage to their former independence and glory, correct?"
"Yes. But that's just…it's complicated," Wit said, almost flustered by the abrupt questioning.
"Then explain it to me. Help me understand," Mihaly said. Feelings weren't always the easiest for him to understand, at least not any feelings that weren't his own, but that was simply the kind of person he was. He cared about others and he knew they cared about him. That was enough for him. But there were some things he couldn't learn through observation. Sometimes he couldn't avoid asking people to explain why they felt a certain way. Wit and the rest of Sol Squadron were among those he didn't understand nearly as well as he could. "Why fight for your home if it's not on the ground?"
"It's because…the sky is the only real home I've ever had. But I'm not like you. I can't spend the rest of my life flying, as much as I'd like to," Wit replied, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed almost nervous. "When my wings are clipped, I want somewhere to go where I don't feel like an outsider. Erusea can't give me that. My own family can't even give me that, as much as they try. And if I can't find that for myself in the end, then whoever is waiting in the future…I don't want them to live like that."
Mihaly nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around that reasoning. He'd been alive and well when Shilage and Voslage had been annexed, and he didn't care much about restoring it. He never cared much about it. The life of nobility felt stifling to him, whereas the sky was home and the only thing he ever wanted to know. But here Wit stood beside him, born into Voslage after it had become an Erusean state, and he desperately wanted his homeland to be free from Erusea's rule. Even though his homeland was technically Erusea. He flew because that was the only thing he could do, but after this war who knows what would come of that.
"Do you think being a pilot will serve as your means to an end?" Mihaly couldn't help but ask, not that he would have been bothered either way by the answer.
"I'm not sure if it started that way. But now that we've established some kind of independence, I have to fight to defend it. You know that," Wit answered him, not hesitating for a second. "We all feel that way. I know that, at least for me, I wanted to be a pilot because I admired you. But then I realized we could actually make a change, at least some day. And now that day has come and I still feel powerless."
"I'm sure you could succeed some day. But you don't need me to do that," Mihaly told him, and heard Wit suck in a breath, preparing to object to the comment. Mihaly wouldn't let him do that. There were other things that he wanted to talk about. "I've been selfish, and there isn't much I can do to set things right in that regard. This war will be my last. And depending on the way things go with Three Strikes, my fight with her could very well be the last."
"Don't say that! You're ten times the pilot Three Strikes is, I'm sure of it," Wit declared, his tone suggesting a childish stubbornness. He hardly realized the weight of his words, and just how foolish they were. His eyes gleamed, and any signs he'd been embarrassed earlier were long gone. He meant every word he said, not caring in the slightest who heard them. Mihaly should have been flattered, but instead it almost hurt. Like Wit was setting himself up for disappointment.
"Don't underestimate your opponent. By now I thought I made myself quite clear on that matter," Mihaly said, keeping his voice level. It was clear that the response was enough to calm Wit down a bit, as his expression began to fade. He looked embarrassed again, just like before. Mihaly didn't mince his words as he went on. "I wouldn't concern myself with her if she wasn't a pilot of incredible skill and potential. To downplay her achievements is to disrespect me. You ought to show respect to your enemies, otherwise when you're finally humbled you won't be able to learn anything but bitterness from it."
"I'm sorry, Mihaly. My mistake," Wit immediately apologized, the tips of his ears going red. Sometimes it was hard to remember how young he was, until he got carried away like that. "I should know better by now. But, you understand what I'm saying. You're the King of the Skies, and we wouldn't follow you if we didn't have faith in your abilities."
Mihaly almost grimaced at the title everyone so fondly referred to him by. It was meant out of admiration, but it was corny and felt almost undeserved. Although the sky was his home, what he considered his kingdom, it reminded him of how others viewed him and how some revered him. It wasn't what he flew for, and it painted a pompous picture. Even so, there were few pilots these days worthy of inheriting such a title, though that was his ego talking. The other side of him felt like a fraud. He sighed. "The point is, Three Strikes may very well be my equal. Perhaps one day, a superior pilot to me. No matter how this goes, I want to know I could entrust the future to you."
Wit swallowed, looking pale. Like he didn't want to hear anything that was being said to him. "What do you mean?"
"If my body no longer allows me to fly, I want to know you're leading a new generation forward. Regardless of your goals. You can give them a future I'm not able to," Mihaly told him, tilting his head up towards the sky. "And if Three Strikes defeats me, I want you to move forward without me. Well, I want that either way, but you understand. When I'm gone, I want to be sure the skies are unchanging, and that those protecting it are worthy."
"I can't promise that, but…if it's what you want me to do, I can promise I'll try and honor that," Wit said, hesitating. When he spoke it was slow, each word thought over carefully before he spoke. To Mihaly, it seemed like he was trying to process it while also being unwilling to accept the possibility that Mihaly wasn't untouchable.
"And there's one other thing," Mihaly said with a sigh, unsure if he should bring it up or not. It was about his granddaughters. He was worried about them, more than he realized, and not for the first time he knew he had to face leaving them behind. Perhaps even for good. "If you succeed in creating the future you want, and restore Shilage and Voslage's independence…I want you to look after my granddaughters when you're able. If our nation exists again, Ionela is the heir to the title if she wants it. The girls think of all of you as family. She'd appreciate your support, as would I."
"You'll be there to help her yourself," Wit said, once again his tone suggesting he was unwilling to compromise. He gave a small smile. "But even if you are, I'll help her how I can."
"I suppose I can rest easy, no matter the outcome, then," Mihaly said, not able to share the smile but willing to set aside any rebuttals to Wit's comments. He wondered if Ionela would ever want to speak to him again. She'd been so angry, and he knew he'd hurt her. He and Alma were her entire world, and he could have treated them both better as their only family. A grandfather was supposed to spoil and laugh with their grandchildren, and he'd never been the type to do those things. If she cursed his name for the rest of her life he'd think it was well-deserved. He owed her what he could.
Wit went quiet for a few moments, clearly thinking about something, and eventually he spoke up again. He seemed almost childish when he did. "Do you think we're ready, Mihaly? To face Three Strikes alongside you?"
"Yes. I do. You've all done well," Mihaly told him. He meant it, even if it didn't quite sound like it. "I'm proud to call you my students."
The two settled into a comfortable silence, and Mihaly was left to reflect on their conversations. Wit was a fine pilot, as was the rest of Sol Squadron. And Three Strikes was a fine pilot as well. Regardless of the outcome of this fight, Mihaly was willing to accept defeat if he must, becoming more confident in the next generation of aces than he was before. If he wasn't here to right his mistakes, there were others that could atone for him, even if that was more than he had any right to ask of them.
The truth was, the skies did not belong only to him, no matter what he may have thought. It was a kingdom for every worthy pilot. And no matter what, he would not accept a future where their kingdom was robbed from them by a machine. Which is why he needed to know what Wit thought, felt, and wanted. Because Mihaly's intuition told him that one way or another, he was not seeing this war through to the end. He didn't want those drones to be his only legacy.
Bulgurdarest, Usea.
October 21st, 2019.
0500hrs.
"Well, I have to admit this is quite the interesting situation we find ourselves in." Colonel Roland Foulke spoke as he took a seat at the conference table, surrounded on all sides by a number of soldiers, most of which looked terrified. Despite being an international force, a good chunk of the IUN soldiers around him were Oseans, and sat opposite him were several high ranking Erusean officers. Most of them were older than him by several years and yet he still had rank on them. Funny how that worked out.
The squadron had been brought back to Usea and placed on standby as the LRSSG made a move on Farbanti, and then everything went to hell. Roland lost his already limited contact with anyone in his family, and the only news that made it out to the forces stationed in central Usea were rumors. It was hard to reliably engage and it made him more frustrated than nervous. So when several forces ended up practically on their doorstep, practically begging for them to hold their fire, it came as a great surprise. Not exactly an unwelcome one, but certainly not what he was expecting.
So here they were, sitting idle and taking in stray splinter groups under their wing, both Oseans and Eruseans willing to set aside their differences for their own sakes. Or that was his understanding of it at first. They'd explained some of what had happened, which included Erusea losing their capital and having their own military turn on itself and Osea having unreliable orders. Among them was an order calling for Three Strikes' removal, be it her death or imprisonment. Roland felt his blood boil when he'd heard that, and told them off for it before he realized that they – along with many others – weren't stupid enough to try and carry out an order like that.
After sorting out any differences, they'd arranged a meeting to discuss their next moves. The IUN and the OADF were beginning to bring every branch back together with a specific goal in mind, and the Eruseans that had opposed the war were uniting with them. Apparently, this meeting was to figure out how to get everyone out of this mess. While not fond of meetings, especially not ones between people that had been at their throats for the better part of five months, Roland was willing to stomach it. If only because he couldn't do much else.
"It's an honor to work with you, Colonel," one of the Erusean commanders said. He was an older gentleman that looked like he was barely holding himself together, almost sweating even. Roland could more or less put two and two together as he went on. "Your actions after all are legend by now. Infamous, even, as far as Erusea is concerned."
Though his tone was polite, Roland had to force a smile. Another reason he hadn't been over the moon about this meeting. The Erusean Conservatives may have shared their common enemy in the 'Radical' faction's drones, but most of them were around for the First Continental War. Even so, Roland tried not to let it bother him. "So I've been told, but we're not here to discuss that, are we?"
"Not technically, no," one of the Osean officers spoke up next, but he didn't elaborate. Not even when Roland glanced his way. Instead, he went straight to business. "Interesting or unusual a situation as this may be, we're going to have to get used to one another if we plan to put an end to all of this. Even if that means we don't settle old scores."
"The Grim Reaper is casually chatting with us and you expect us to pretend it isn't even a little unsettling?" another Erusean said, younger than his commander but still a ways up the latter. He forced a laugh, though it wasn't a bitter one. It was just dry. "Look, I'm all for working with the guy if he's on our side, but it's going to take some adjustment."
"Our Ribbon Fighter has ended one war, and he can end another," Sky Eye, who was allowed to listen in only because Roland requested he be there, said from where he stood off to the side, away from the door. Everyone turned to him. He was getting on in age by now, but still loyal and confident to the end. And as cool-headed as ever in spite of his words. "Holding onto a fourteen-year-old grudge like that is just petty, especially after all he's done to fix your mistakes."
"Alright, alright, everyone just calm down. I'm not here to fight about the past or whatever it is you all expect me to do," Roland said with a sigh before anything could escalate. "The point is, whether you want it or not, you need Osea's help. And that means you need the IUN's help…and unfortunately for both of us, that means you probably need or at least want my help. If you really want to end this war then you're going to have to find some way to coexist with us."
"The Colonel is right. We can only fight one war at a time, and reliving the Continental War won't do us any good. We've all come a long way since then," the Erusean officer from before, almost reluctant to agree but too tired to argue with anyone. Roland watched the man as he spoke. It was interesting to confront people on the other side of history. It wasn't the first time, but it was probably one of the most civil interactions, especially under the circumstances. "Working together is our best bet for getting out of this mess, and we all need to keep sight of the real enemy. If General Labarthe was here I'm sure that he'd say the same."
"Well, be that as it may, he isn't," another Erusean Major spoke up. Roland couldn't be bothered to keep track of their names, since he doubted he'd have any reason to. The Major continued. "I agree, though. It's senseless to fight when we came together to put an end to this nonsense."
"Am I to assume you all have a plan, then?" Roland asked, leaning back in his seat. He glanced at the Osean soldiers, and both the Oseans and Eruseans nodded in response. "Alright, so I'm guessing this particular meeting is to go over that. Which, depending on what you're planning, probably means you're going to need more numbers than you have now."
"You guessed correctly. We called a cease fire once we realized the drones were a danger to all of us. And we realized we weren't the ones that asked for this war," an Osean Major this time explained the situation, or at least started to. "That's what's led us here. More hope than anything, but we think we have an idea about how to end this war."
Roland, admittedly intrigued, straightened up. "And what might that be?"
"The key is the very thing that started this war. The Lighthouse," another Osean quickly explained, referring of course to the space elevator. Roland was well aware of its importance in all of this, and Erusea's complete misunderstanding of Harling's latest symbol of peace. Instead it had become the exact opposite. "We unite our forces just as we've already done, and make for Gunther Bay. After that, we can fight to take it back from the Radical Erusean's control."
"It won't be easy. And we certainly can't do it on our own, which is part of the reason we've come to find you. The IUN hasn't suffered as badly as a result of all of this, and with you on our side…as well as Three Strikes, we wouldn't have any trouble," an Erusean said. Roland tried not to tense at the mention of his sister, though for what reason it bothered him was a mystery. The way she was overly relied on and simultaneously feared even by their own forces at times irked him. Not out of jealousy. But he pushed his feelings down as the Eruseans continued, possibly aware of the connection between the two and choosing to move on. "Even amidst this blackout, the communications network has been partially restored. We can send out a transmission and expand our coalition. It would be an easy victory."
"Would it really?" Roland couldn't help but ask. He found himself unwilling to jump on board easily, though one look around the room told him he was more or less alone in his hesitance. He caught Sky Eye's gaze, watching him with concern and a slight shake of his head, well aware of how Roland felt about hope these days. But he couldn't do anything about that, and he certainly wasn't going to hold back his opinion. They could court martial him if they didn't want to hear him, not that anyone was that stupid. "We're well aware that that second Arsenal Bird is still flapping around out there, keeping a tight perimeter around the Lighthouse. It took Stonehenge and the LRSSG together to take the first one down, so what's your plan? There's no Stonehenge on your side anymore."
"No. But there's Three Strikes. And there's you," one of the Erusean Majors said, crossing his arms. Roland stared him down as he spoke, the poor man unaware of what territory he was wandering into. Luckily for all involved he more or less sidestepped it. "I'm sure we'd have no issue rallying our forces behind the two of you. With a couple of real life heroes leading the way, taking on the Arsenal Bird would be a piece of cake."
"And how are you going to sound off that battle cry without the enemy being well aware of our plan? Encryption of any communications won't do you any good," Roland pointed out. He was good at arguing, if nothing else, really just trying to make everyone see the full picture. If they wanted to go through with this, they needed to be prepared. And they needed to be truly willing to risk everything, otherwise this was all a pointless discussion.
"Once the Radicals hear who's on our side, I seriously doubt they'd be foolish enough to stand their ground much longer," an Osean commander, this one the commander of the Bulgurdarest base they were currently at, said. "It will at least deal a blow to their morale if nothing else, right?"
"Really, the whole world should know we're coming. They should see the Radicals for what they are, somehow. A heartless, cruel enemy," the Erusean commander said, keeping his voice level though that much was clearly a challenge. "An enemy fueled by nothing but fear and hatred. They'll be desperate, and that will give us an opening…hell, we may be no better than them, but at least we're not insane."
"Depends on how you look at all of this…" Roland muttered to himself, but apparently he said it too loud judging from the looks everyone gave him. He sighed and cleared his throat. It was a stupid plan, and one he could hardly get behind, but at least he had to commend them for thinking of something. They were doing a far better job than he was, just sitting around waiting for some kind of order to follow, but even then he hated doing something as simple as that. He never was the agreeable one, not for many years at least. "If you're expecting my support, I suppose I can offer it. But only to an extent."
The Osean and Erusean commanders all exchanged looks with one another, one of the Eruseans the first to prompt him to continue. "Go on."
"I'll protect you and offer you any of my men in your fight, especially while you rally more forces around the continent. Obviously, I don't have much of a say in that, really…do I?" Roland looked over at the base commander, a man he outranked but nonetheless was willing to respect enough not to undermine him. Honestly, as far as the guy was concerned Roland's word was the law. But his attempts at leadership never went smoothly. He kept his posture rigid as he continued. "But I want to make one thing very clear to all of you: this is not my fight, and as much as I hate being confined to a desk…not to mention small sorties…I want nothing to do with this coalition beyond the basics."
The whole room erupted into furious protests and confused murmurs, which Roland tuned out and leaned back in his seat. Sky Eye's voice was the only one to cut through the white noise all of the chatter became and get his attention again. "You're kidding! It's a waste of your talents to have you assisting on the ground. You're too valuable a pilot!"
"I'm not the IUN's lapdog. None of you own me. And seeing as I'm technically the ranking officer here, I'll do whatever the hell I wish to do," Roland said, getting to his feet. He sounded arrogant and like a child, a voice he missed all too much calling him out in his memories. He had changed so much and yet not of all. He made for the door. "That's my final say. I will help. I'll strategize, I'll lead, I'll bark orders, or whatever it is you need me to do. But this battlefield isn't mine. And frankly, you don't need me."
Roland left the room without another word, vaguely aware of Sky Eye exiting behind him but otherwise not giving it a second thought. The truth was, Roland was tired of fighting. He could probably retire, at the ripe old age of thirty-four, and no one would protest. They'd probably give him full benefits. He had the military wrapped around his finger, and yet he rarely took advantage of that. In fact, sometimes he felt like their puppet. But he stayed, though. He jumped when they told him, he fought their pointless battles, but all the while they kept him from fighting alongside the LRSSG in this war and now they wanted him to do as they said. But he realized now he couldn't keep up with this war even if he tried.
Although he never let it show, he ached most days. There were times his breathing was ragged and every breath burned, and on bad days he found himself in the middle of horrible coughing fits. Then there was the wear and tear on the rest of his body, and he'd kept up physical therapy just to manage that. He kept all of this private, of course, from his family and his comrades, not wanting to burden them. The only cause they could find for the declining health was issues with the aircraft he'd flown. Then there were the last two conflicts he'd fought in here on Usea, facing him with more human losses than he was willing to handle. All in all, he wasn't much better than the fifty-something-year-olds forced behind a desk for the rest of their lives, hurting physically and emotionally. It was almost pathetic in his eyes, though he knew that was a disrespectful thing to think.
The one thing that hadn't deteriorated was his intelligence. He could think his way through just about any problem, which is part of why he offered his services on the ground instead. That way he didn't feel like a complete waste of space. It was giving in to the very thing he despised, but he would take it over making a fool of himself and risking his life for a war he didn't even ask to be in. And one he'd barely fought in. He didn't deserve to play a greater part in ending it.
It was selfish, but another factor was that he didn't want his family to see him like that. That, and he wasn't going to try and contend with his sister all because he missed the glory days. From what he'd heard, she could take him on with her hands tied behind her back and still give him a run for his money. No one needed him, at least not in the ways they seemed to think. Everyone would be fine, and he was content to play his part from the shadows, providing weapons and plans as they were needed. Besides that, he wasn't going to be used like a pawn by anyone.
Roland took a sharp breath as he stepped outside, the air cold but nothing he couldn't manage. He crossed his arms, shivering only once before he adjusted to the change in temperature, his mind wandering back to the meeting. Forming a coalition to take down every drone and take back the Lighthouse…it wasn't going to be easy, but he could think of a few people off the top of his head that might be of some use. On some level, he kind of hated not being involved, but barring the satellite incident that left them in this blackout they had done just fine without him in the air.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door open behind him, initially not giving it any thought until he felt a fist knock against the back of his head. Hard enough to get his attention, light enough it was only somewhat uncomfortable over painful. Roland glared at his 'assailant' only – and not at all to his surprise – to find Sky Eye standing behind him with a grave look on his face. He almost looked concerned. "Y'know, I never thought I'd see the day when you turned down a chance at the spotlight."
"People change." Roland just shrugged and lightly shook his head. "I can't be a poster boy forever."
"I thought you didn't want to be a lapdog," Sky Eye said, almost sounding amused.
"What's the difference?" Roland asked with a scoff. At a different time he might have been fine being their lapdog, provided it gave him a chance to make something of himself, but now he was pushing back. He shrugged, going back to Sky Eye's original comment. "Anyways, I don't have to be in the air to make a difference. Besides, they better get used to me not being around all the time, especially when they're bound and determined to work me to death…"
"I guess you're right, but…are you absolutely sure Three Strikes can handle this on your own?" Sky Eye asked, almost hesitantly. Roland didn't answer right away. He was the only one that Roland willingly told about Naomi, and it was clear he wasn't sure what to do with that information. "I mean, I know she's your sister and all, and she's been an indispensable asset to the OADF, but…she's so young. She was a rookie when all of this went down."
"If she couldn't handle herself you and I might not have ever met, let alone be standing here having this conversation now," Roland said, shrugging. Sky Eye knew as much as Roland had told him, and for a number of reasons he hadn't been told very much. Certainly not a great deal about Roland's family, at least not until recent years. But he was willing to explain things to him. "I was twelve when she was born. You'd think we wouldn't be close, but our older sister and myself couldn't help but look out for her. I wanted to hate her so badly, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't. In any case, we drive each other up the wall more often than not, but she's still my baby sister."
"All the more reason to protect her, right?" Sky Eye asked, almost hesitant.
"One would think. But before I left for Usea…she was in the first grade a year early, and though the kids weren't much older than her they could be cruel," Roland told him, not entirely sure if the story was anyone's business. Naomi had long since forgotten about it, probably because she had better things to focus on when she was growing up, so he figured it was fine. "Anyways, a couple of kids didn't like her. I can only guess why. She was a sweet kid, for the most part, but they singled her out."
"Young age to start bullying," Sky Eye observed, perhaps a bit disbelieving.
"Yeah, well. It escalated to a physical fight once, I have absolutely no clue why," Roland said, the whole incident a rather stupid one. Honestly, at that age the only beef you could have with anyone was petty and pointless. "But it did. Only once."
Sky Eye seemed to have some idea of where it was going. "You had to help her?"
"Nope." Roland couldn't help but start laughing. It was an awful thing to laugh at, but it's not like the kid got terribly hurt. Sky Eye was staring at him now, and that only made Roland want to laugh harder no matter how he tried to hold himself back. For the sake of his respiratory system, he stifled his laughter and took a few shaky breaths to collect himself. "They were messing with one of her friends and she got in the middle of it. One of the boys had smacked her bag out of her hands and shoved her, then he was winding up to hit her. I noticed and went to help her, but…heh. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but…"
"Did she…hit the kid back?" Sky Eye asked, sounding exasperated more than anything. He caught on quickly.
"With zero hesitation," Roland said with a nod, snorting as he tried to hold back his laughing just like before. Sky Eye rolled his eyes, probably at the fact Roland found the incident amusing now that he was looking back on it. At the time, he was probably the only one that wasn't completely furious with Naomi for the incident. Of course, their parents directed their fury towards the teachers and principal as soon as they heard the full story, but that was besides the point. "She hit him with a right cross and they never bothered her or her friend again."
"Well, that's certainly an…interesting story. Why am I not surprised your whole family is a bunch of hotheads?" Sky Eye said with a sigh, and Roland couldn't help but chuckle lightly. Of course, he was only speaking from what he knew about Roland, Naomi, and their father. He didn't know much about Roland's mother and Samantha. The latter was probably the most patient and gentle out of all of them, but even she had her moments so maybe it wasn't too far off. Hell, the whole family was just straight up unusual all things considered. Sky Eye didn't stay hung up on those things like Roland did, though. "So, you were okay leaving her to fight her own battles that young?"
"Naomi may wear her heart on her sleeve more often than not, but I've never considered her fragile or weak because of that. Not even as short-tempered as she is," Roland said, and while it may have just been what he repeated to himself to feel better about keeping his distance it was still something he truly, fully believed. He had similar thoughts about the rest of their family. "Even if she got in over her head, she'd find some way to fight herself out of it before she'd ever want to burden someone with helping her. If she reaches a breaking point, she has our father. And from what I've heard, she has her wingmen, too. She doesn't need me."
"The Reaper I know usually acts like the whole world would fall apart without him," Sky Eye said playfully, but even then it still lacked a teasing edge. The light smack to Roland's shoulder for emphasis on the tone did little to help. "You really have changed, you know. Don't tell me those bigshot pencil pushers have finally worn you down."
"Who knows? If I'm being honest, I think we both saw this day coming eventually," Roland said. He complained about a lack of action, then turned it down the second it was offered to him. He said he hated being a military lapdog, but then he played the politician to get on their good side. Years ago, he might not have cared about more Erusean blood on his hands or facing off against drones, but he was tired. He'd changed after the war, he just hid it all this time. He didn't want to worry his old friend, though, not when he kept the act up this long. He gave him a practiced smile like he always did. "Besides, if you ask me I'm still pretty defiant. They want me to fight, so now I won't!"
"This is why my wife says you're a bad influence…" Sky Eye said, shaking his head, but the slightest ghost of a smile told Roland he wasn't too serious. It seemed like he was mostly talking to himself. "What are we going to do with you?"
Roland was still smiling, finding that being a smartass still came with ease. But at the end of the day, when he was expected to keep up appearances, he'd go back to the way he was nowadays. He chose to echo the words Sky Eye had said earlier, wearing a smirk as he did. "Can't lock me up. I'm too valuable a pilot."
"Jackass." Sky Eye almost laughed, again knocking him on the back of his head like he'd done when he first interrupted Roland's thoughts. He put so much faith in him, even when he was acting like this, but to be fair he only ever acted this way around those he knew well enough. They had a comfortable sort of friendship, the only one that Roland hadn't lost to time or war. Sky Eye had to be a saint, maybe martyred in a past life or something if anyone could believe that. He went on, like he'd said nothing playfully disrespectful at all. "I don't want you to think no one needs you. You don't have to be on the battlefield yourself to be needed. That head of yours is still valuable."
"Good to know. Maybe stop hitting it, then?" Roland's proposal was met by Sky Eye raising a brow and lifting his fist in a threat. It seemed he'd pushed his luck, and Roland immediately threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright, take it easy. Now who's the jackass?"
"It's still you. Heroes aren't exempt from consequences," Sky Eye remarked with a breathy laugh. It was all in good fun, no matter how hard he tried to seem intimidating and easily annoyed.
"Guess you're right," Roland conceded, crossing his arms. "Anyways. If you agree with me that I don't have to fight to help, why bother talking it out with me at all?"
"I suppose I just wanted to know why you think and feel the way you do. I'd like to think we're friends, after all. I don't want you sitting this out because you're insecure," Sky Eye answered, his turn to shrug. The way he put it made Roland sound rather pathetic, but they didn't linger on that for long. "Besides, just look at the state of things. The world still needs heroes."
Roland couldn't help but smile. All this time people looked at him and treated him like a hero, but he never felt like one. Not for very long, at least. He looked up at the sky again, still dark even as dawn began to approach. Normally sunrises were a blessing to him, some kind of proof the world was alright and life was good, but today it felt dark and bittersweet. He blamed it on the war, yet was unwilling to do much to stop it. What kind of a hero just sat around complaining? What kind of hero cared more about his deeds in the past? Maybe he was a hero, to some. Maybe even to Naomi.
She wasn't stupid. He had a feeling she might already know who he was and what he'd done, but if she did he was grateful she hadn't said anything. He wanted her to understand war for herself before she looked at him through that kind of lense, maybe because of guilt. The way she'd reacted to their parents' secrets was more than enough reason to feel that way. But once she understood all of this and had seen for herself what war did…then he wouldn't mind. Because then there was no image of him that he had to shatter with his honesty. No perfection he had to achieve just to be worthy of adoration. It was actually pretty selfish.
Still, he was willing to keep smiling, finally replying to Sky Eye properly. "They have more than enough. Heroes, I mean," he said. "I know Three Strikes will win the war. She'll prove they still exist when she ends this all, and she'll show the world what a true ace can do. Without me. And I'll be prouder than anyone when it happens."
To himself, or maybe some kind of silent prayer he wished Naomi would hear somehow, he couldn't help but think, And I hope when that day comes you'll be just as proud to stand alongside me. I know you'll succeed.
Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
October 23rd, 2019.
0600hrs.
Naomi and Beckett had already decided what to do, with the Princess' almost reluctant approval to do so, but regardless they'd asked everyone to come together and see if anyone had any better ideas the night before. Sure enough, there weren't any better options for them. Now everyone sat trying and failing to troubleshoot and come up with ideas, even after having slept on it, so Naomi had a pretty good feeling it wouldn't be hard to get them on board. Count even agreed, though he had his reservations. So all there was left to do was wait for the all clear to start their briefing, which was the reason they were here early in the morning.
Long Caster was the one holding them up, having been asked up to the control tower before they'd even arrived. Once he got there, there wasn't any turning back unless by some miracle someone was able to hand them all the answers. Naomi knew it looked bad, to be willing to fly that far inland and face off Mr. X on limited fuel and munitions, but all things considered it really did look like their best chance of survival. Even the Princess gave in, unable to find an alternative that made any more sense. Personal feelings aside, clearly it wasn't the worst idea they'd ever had.
While they waited for Long Caster's return, Naomi had taken to pacing once more while Beckett and the others remained seated. Most of them were trying to rest their eyes while they waited. Count, Jaeger, and Húxiān carried out a quiet conversation amongst themselves, Fencer and Tabloid joining in occasionally while Skald and Lanza struggled to stay awake. All of Golem and Mage were dozing, with the exceptions of Knocker and Clown, the two of them occasionally saying something to the other in spite of the fact they looked asleep. Tailor took up what looked like an uncomfortable sleeping position, having leaned all the way forward with his arms folded over his knees and using that as a pillow to bury his face in. His father sat on one side, quietly studying the map they'd pulled up. On his other side sat Hans, using Kathryn's head as a pillow while she used his shoulder as hers.
Naomi glanced at them all every so often, but it only made her more anxious and at the same time more stubborn in her decision. Everyone not involved in their upcoming operation wasn't present, but they'd find out soon enough. She hoped they'd understand, she hoped all of them would. It wasn't something she wanted to do…well, she did want to get even with General Shilage, but she would have preferred it all to go differently. She reasoned that they didn't know for certain he'd show, so she could worry less about losing anyone else to him and focus on the matter at hand. But she was just lying to herself.
Just as she was reaching the end of her rope, the door to the briefing room opened and ripped her out of her thoughts. It also got everyone else's attention, startling those that had been resting awake again. It shut with a heavy clunk behind him and he looked almost apologetic as he stepped inside, offering an explanation for his absence. "Sorry about the holdup. A couple of things came up."
"What kind of 'things'?" Naomi asked before anyone else could say anything, pretty sure being vague wasn't a luxury they could afford these days.
"It's…a bit hard to say," Long Caster admitted with a sigh. He glanced around, then looked to Beckett and back to Naomi. As their commander got to his feet and was close enough, Long Caster lowered his voice so the others couldn't overhear. "It could be nothing, but…we'll see. But for now, it seems likely that the Erusean military is advancing again."
"Dammit." Naomi crossed her arms, trying to keep from raising her voice. She kept her expression as neutral as she could, not wanting to tip the others off. The entire interaction was being watched with looks of concern and curiosity.
"They sure got back on their feet fast enough," Beckett said with a sigh. "Guess they're probably not going to rush into things like us, but…still."
"There's more to it than that," Long Caster said, but he was interrupted before he could continue.
The others had figured out something was off as soon as Long Caster lowered his voice, and Naomi didn't plan to hide anything from them to begin with. Which is why she couldn't fault Knocker for clearing his throat and getting their attention, standing up and taking a few steps towards the three of them. He didn't sound too angry when he spoke, though. "I don't mean to pry, but is there something you three would like to share with the rest of the class?" he asked, almost like he was trying to lighten the mood. When Naomi and Beckett exchanged a look, he was quick to add, "With all due respect. I just think we have enough on our plates without any added anxiety."
"I think Knocker's right. With everything we have to risk, they deserve to know." Naomi was quick to agree with him, not just because he was her former commander but also because she'd made it clear she didn't want to keep anything from them. They were all in this together, it wasn't fair to withhold information. "Besides, you said it could just be nothing. Right?"
Long Caster gave her a quick nod, seemingly agreeing, but he looked over at Beckett just in case. "Colonel?"
"I'm outnumbered. And you're both probably right, anyways. I'm not too terribly concerned about it, but…" Beckett looked around the room, taking a deep breath and then making his way over to the screen and the computer. Long Caster was right behind him, while Naomi only took a few steps forward before she remained standing where she was. She could pitch in from there, and besides that Beckett seemed to be getting things under control just fine without her. "I guess it's time for the briefing then, huh? Although, without any word from our HQ in Osea, it's not like this is an official mission or anything."
"Yeah, same drill as before, right?" Húxiān asked, crossing her legs and leaning back in her seat. She looked exhausted. "Not like much has changed in the last couple of days…"
"There's no chance of any relief plan from Osea, then, is there?" Jaeger asked with a sigh, leaning his head against his fist.
"I'm afraid so. We may have seized Tyler Island and gotten some of our communications network back up, but there's just no way we could request aid from them. And we definitely wouldn't get it in time," Beckett explained quickly, looking over his shoulder at the map as Long Caster began to highlight Erusea's current, updated range based on information from the Princess and the Conservative defectors. He went on. "Which is why we're all here...because in the meantime, we just have to do what we can to survive."
"And what's that gonna entail?" Clown asked, narrowing his eyes on the map.
"Slow it down. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. We should go over what we know before we get down to what needs to be done," Beckett said carefully, wanting to ease everyone into this. "Now, you're all aware we're getting low on food and fuel and what have you, it's kind of hard to keep that a secret around here. We found a solution, but…we were hoping to have come up with something else."
Fencer blew out a slow breath, stretching out as he spoke. "Yeah, I've got a bad feeling about that."
"Alright, first and foremost, what's the deal, Long Caster?" Boggard was the one who spoke up, crossing his arms. Since everything that had happened, Naomi was used to him being more irritable and laid back, but it still took some getting used to. It was surprising to her he was so eager to speak now. "You guys were talking about something important, right? So what's gone wrong?"
"Nothing that we know of. Yet, at least. We all remember the scoop at this point. Since losing their capital when we took Farbanti, the Erusean forces have separated into smaller, autonomous factions," Long Caster said, clicking through and adding various bullet points to mark out Erusean forces on all sides. He then predicted their course, selecting each one and highlighting their path towards the space elevator, clicking once more to show all of them closing in on the same point. "We intercepted some iffy, encrypted data transmissions. One of them was received a day or so ago, and they managed to figure it out. Apparently, there's reason to believe that forces from Eruseas largest and leading faction – the so called 'Radical' Forces behind the drones – will pass through the area around this base."
Jaeger was the first one to find his voice, everyone else a bit surprised and confused by the revelation. He just gave it a thoughtful look, focusing on the location they were headed. It wasn't hard to figure out. "That makes sense…the space elevator is significant to them, so it's entirely possible they'd be headed there to regroup and bolster their forces."
"Not all that surprising," Hans observed, taking a deep breath. "I'd imagine one way or another everyone's going to try heading there."
"Should we intercept, you think?" Lanza asked, glancing around. He sounded nervous, maybe even restless on some level.
"Why?" Fencer asked with a scoff, putting on a genuinely confused expression. Like Lanza had just asked the most ridiculous question ever. "I doubt they're gonna start a fight now. They may be getting back on their feet, but no one wants to waste ammunition. Besides, there's no way we can tell if they even know we're here."
"Hard to argue with that logic," Count said, unusually calm with his response. "But it's just as hard to sit by and do nothing."
"If you ask me, our top priority should be to get home. It's risky, but if we played our cards right we could return to Osea with the refugees in tow. It would be a lot safer than trying to wait things out with no way to defend ourselves," Skald said, offering what he thought to be a practical and common sense solution. Naomi could hardly disagree with him. In fact, just looking at his expression, she wished they were all home. Not for the first time, either. She wished it was that easy. Skald, almost pleading at this point, added, "So let's just go already."
Beckett and Long Caster looked over at Naomi for some help, and each and every one of her fellow pilots all turned to look at her for answers as well. Even Count, though he knew more or less what was going on. Naomi took a deep breath, stepping forward, well aware all of them were watching her. "You're right. We don't have the power or a real reason to put up a fight. And believe me, I want nothing more than to just go home," she said, keeping her voice level while also trying to look determined. "But we can't just sit back and do nothing. We can't turn tail and run. Someone's gotta fight this war, and if you ask me we should be ready to push them back if our enemy comes looking for trouble."
Tabloid seemed to understand, or at least he was starting to catch on, and he spoke up for all of them as he said, "It sounds like you have a plan then, Trigger. So let's hear it."
Naomi gave him a grateful smile and looked back at Beckett, who nodded to Long Caster. As the AWACS controller laid out the route and pulled up a map of their terrain, Beckett explained their planned operation. "If we head inland from here towards Erusea, there's an old castle that's been converted into a stockpiling base. We had intel on it for a while, and that intel was confirmed to be up to date by the Princess of Erusea herself, so we know it's not a gamble. With our current fuel reserves…we'll be pushing it, but I'm certain we could make it. Besides, it should have more than enough to support us."
"Wait a second, I remember there were some recon ops out there. Low key stuff…it only got investigated because of rumors, and then they passed it onto us just in case," Jaeger said, looking almost uncomfortable as he spoke, realizing exactly what that meant. He hesitated, but managed to continue. "Shilage Castle. It sits above a small town, if I'm not mistaken. Surely you're not asking us to…"
He trailed off, and Clown was quick to jump in for him. "Hold on just a sec, you're not askin' us to raid and loot from a bunch of civilians are you? In case you haven't noticed, Erusea's done just about enough of that."
"I'm not asking that of you, not in the slightest. If there was significant risk of civilian casualties, I never would have approved this…all of that being said, it's been occupied by the Erusean military for some time," Beckett said, though it was clear from his shift in tone that this was a difficult thing to do. He clenched his fists and took deep but shaky breaths, collecting himself before he continued. "Currently, it's occupied by some of the Erusean forces that broke off…your old friend – Mr. X, I believe you call him? – likely among them. Now I don't like it, but we need ammo and fuel. And food. Clearly I don't have to make it clear to you that the only thing you are authorized to target are confirmed military vehicles and aircraft."
"What about collateral damage?" Tailor asked, almost hesitantly, keeping his voice low.
"He's right. Even if our targets are military, there's no way to control where an enemy plane goes down," Faun spoke up, keeping his voice just as low. "Not to mention what we're supposed to do if Erusea uses their civilians as shields. Whatever we do, there's no way to win in this situation."
Kathryn, who had been nearly completely silent and elusive since her return, finally spoke up. She looked thoroughly beaten down and exhausted, so as accusing as her words were they lacked any kind of emotional impact with how she sounded. "If this is some thinly disguised attempt at payback, given who's likely waiting for you, then I think the price you're gonna pay isn't worth it in the end."
"Even if that were the case, it ain't like it's not justified, Kid," Clown said, glancing between Kathryn and Naomi, as though he wanted to avoid a fight.
"That isn't what this is at all. Besides that, it's not like it's some petty score I have to settle," Naomi said, not raising her voice but finding it a bit hard not to feel hurt that everyone thought so little of her. She'd tried and failed to come up with a better idea, and they all knew this. "There's not much else we can do. This is the only reliable information we have, and we can't afford to waste our limited resources unless we know it's going to pay off. Do you think I want this on my conscience? Do you think I want to lose more of my wingmen to that son of a bitch? No, I don't. But we have to do something, and I'm not gonna go down without a fight."
"Relax. I don't think less of you or anything," Kathryn said. Naomi almost felt bad for having gotten defensive, seeing the way her would-be opponent gave in. She narrowed her eyes, her expression and tone giving away absolutely nothing about what she might have been feeling. "I just don't want you throwing your lives away for vengeance or something. If there's no other option, then you do what you have to do. I'd…probably make the same decision in your shoes."
"So we know we might be facing our dear old 'friend' again…" Knocker sucked in a breath, trying to keep himself together. But Naomi knew exactly what he felt about that possibility. "But what else could we be walking into?"
"Based on what we saw, they appear to have converted a freeway into a runway, so we can expect them to have the capacity for air combat," Long Caster explained, expanding the terrain further and marking out potential enemy locations, as well as the main castle. "There's no doubt there will be interference, but they'll be easier to handle than Erusea's lead faction. At least until we have the means for a real fight."
"We won't be using all of our aircraft for this attack, either. We need at least one squadron to remain here in case the base is attacked, and we'll need someone else to offer support and cover for our transport," Beckett said as everyone looked over the map. Overall, there wasn't much to be worried about, but Naomi knew that the ground forces weren't their main problem. Beckett continued. "It's simple and straightforward enough, but we need to be prepared for anything. So, I'll let Trigger call the shots on this one."
"Strider Squadron will take point on the operation. If anything happens, I want to be able to handle it," Naomi said almost as soon as he finished speaking, having already decided that long ago. She looked over the others, specifically the faces of Golem and Cyclops Squadron. They lost the same people Naomi had, but she didn't want to risk losing them too. At the same time, it didn't feel fair to act like she was the only one with a score to settle should General Shilage show his face. She looked over them all, unable to make a decision and not wanting to play favorites. Mostly trying to work it out aloud to herself, she tried to reach some kind of answer. "And I think…I think that…dammit, this isn't easy…"
"I think that Mage Squadron should stay behind on this one. We can cover the base." Kathryn surprised Naomi by speaking up when she did, seemingly trying to make it easier on her by volunteering to stay behind like she did. She looked around at the others, Clown raising a brow while Hans and Tailor both stared at her, completely confused. She shrugged. "I get it's not my call, I'm just throwing my opinion out there. We don't have a dog in this fight. I'd rather be here for the refugees, but I'll do what you ask."
"Are you forgetting that guy shot you down, too?" Hans asked her, keeping himself steady. But the look in his eyes was uncharacteristically harsh.
"I'm not sayin' I disagree completely, but it's not like we don't have a reason to hate the guy, either," Clown replied. Naomi couldn't be sure, but she had a feeling that Brownie's loss still affected him some, too. They weren't close, and he may not have had the responsibility towards her that Knocker did, but it was hard to work closely with someone and not care about them on some level. Maybe she was wrong, and maybe his score with Mr. X only had to do with what happened to Kathryn, but either way he had a point.
"I'm not dead. I'm perfectly fine, and I don't want anyone throwing themselves into harm's way for me," Kathryn said with an almost irritated sigh. "My point is, this fight isn't about me. Which means it's not about you, Hans. Clown and Tailor…that's a different story. But I don't think it's fair to expect Knocker or any of Cyclops to sit this out."
One look at Knocker and then at Naomi and Clown gave in. "Alright, fine. Mage Squadron can cover the base," he said, then he looked at Naomi with a stern expression. Suddenly his willingness to fight became even clearer than before. He was looking out for both Kathryn and Naomi. "So long as you're all careful out there, Trigger. Don't let the bastard win, if he even shows his face…"
"Already planned on that," Naomi told him, giving him a nod. She still had to make her decision, having been too scared to look Knocker in the eyes until she had no choice. She looked at him where he stood, used to seeing a kind of professional sternness from him. So it made her chest and throat ache when she met his eyes and found he looked furious. Like he would kill Mr. X with his bare hands if he had to. She was one to talk. She felt that kind of rage almost every day, and she was just barely keeping it together most of the time. Naomi took a deep breath, knowing from her own experiences to tread carefully. "Knocker?"
"Don't ask me to sit this out, Trigger. I can't do it. I won't," Knocker said, practically shaking with anger. He was trying so hard to keep himself together, taking deep breaths and speaking slowly. His hands were balled into fists, holding them together so tightly his knuckles had gone white. "I couldn't fend him off last time, and Blaze went down. Then he killed your company commander…and at the start of this he killed…he killed Brownie. Everywhere I turn, it's like he's determined to hurt my men and I'm sick of not doing anything about it. So you either allow me to cover Strider Squadron or I'll fly out there on my own and hunt him down myself."
"Boss…" Footpad hesitantly tried to say something, but it seemed he couldn't find the words. All three of them, Footpad, Faun, and Boggard were staring at Naomi, desperate for her to say or do something. But she wasn't sure what to do anymore.
"All I want is to make sure you succeed in taking him down. I'm not going to throw my life away, I just want to be there when he gets a taste of justice," Knocker told her. Normally coolheaded, he was a completely different man. The kind of man Naomi wouldn't have seen under any other circumstances, but she couldn't change what happened. A few moments of silence went by, and he seemed to calm down a bit. He took a deep breath, relaxing his muscles and allowing the anger to fade some. "Please. I can't lose another pilot."
Even if wasn't Naomi's commander anymore, she knew he still felt responsible for her. Even if she was a company commander with her own men to worry about, Knocker among them, she was pretty sure he'd look after his former wingmen until the day he died. But as much as she didn't want to ask him to stay behind, the thought of losing anyone else terrified her. She already had Count and the rest of Strider Squadron to worry about, and although she knew they would all keep each other safe in the air it was still scary. And to make matters worse, Cyclops Squadron deserved closure as well.
Naomi sighed, coming up with the only answer she could. Not sure if it was a good idea or a monumentally stupid one, but if Beckett or anyone else had a problem with it they could just refuse it. "Cyclops Squadron will provide support for the transport," she said, noting the way Knocker almost resigned himself to staying behind before she added, "And Golem Squadron will provide cover for Strider."
"Okay, Trigger. I trust your judgment," Beckett said, giving enough time for everyone to process and speak up if they had a problem. There were no complaints, which Naomi took as a good sign. He summarized the conversation for the sake of keeping their orders at least somewhat official. "Strider and Golem Squadrons will fly in first and neuter the dogs at the stockpiling base, then you'll rendezvous with Cyclops Squadron, who'll bring our transport. You'll load up what you need and bring the supplies back to base."
One by one, most of them sounded off, starting with Fencer. "Got it."
"I think aircraft'll be our only threat along the way," Húxiān mused, but when Jaeger gave her a look almost of warning she gave a breathy laugh. "Alright, I don't wanna jinx it. Quit lookin' at me like I'm your kid, old man."
"Well, regardless of how this goes, I'm sure we'll make it, right?" Jaeger asked, looking up at Naomi.
"With the boss on our sides, of course we will," Lanza said, trying to get back to his usual self to lighten the mood. "She'll get us through it."
"I'll do my best, and I expect the same from all of you," Naomi said, trying not to get ahead of herself without letting them know she was worried. She had been worried for over a month now, but no matter what she had to get them through this. "We're all gonna fly home. Together. I swear."
"Trigger…" Knocker looked like he wanted to say something completely different, but he managed a small smile and what he said instead was, "Thank you. We're all counting on you."
"Alright, now that that's settled, go let the rest of our crew know. Prepare yourselves and your aircraft, rest as much as you need. We'll leave first thing in the morning. Dismisses," Beckett called out, and everyone was quick to follow the order, getting to their feet and heading out one by one. He watched them go, and before Naomi went to join them she noticed that he seemed almost guilty in spite of himself. Like he really didn't want to go through with this. But she only noticed it for a second before he cleared his throat and turned to Long Caster.
Naomi knew that this might be the one thing she'd regret, even if she was doing it for the sake of others, but she was still willing to go through with it. Maybe once all was said and done she'd have a different perspective, but for the time being it was what needed to be done. She wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking over a town, even temporarily, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to a potential dogfight with Mr. X, but she would suck it up and do what she could. They could answer for their sins some other time.
As the group of pilots stepped outside, Naomi trailed behind them all, not sure what she could say to any of them. None of them wanted this, she could tell, but they did as they were told. She was taken out of her thoughts as Count slowed his pace to fall in beside her, silent for just a few seconds before he asked her a question that seemed to be common between the two of them. "Are you sure about this, Trig?"
Naomi hesitated, looking up at him. He was watching the ground as they walked, glancing at her as he waited for her to reply. If there was one person she could speak freely with, it was him. Even if she didn't want him to see her angry or uncertain. "No," she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "But we're doing it anyway. Even if we don't like it, we might as well accept it if nothing else."
"Okay, then," Count said, taking a deep breath. She looked over at him once again and the spark she was used to seeing had returned to his eyes. It gave her confidence. Or hope. Reassurance, even. Hell, she felt a million things all at once looking at him, but more than anything it set her at ease. He said another common, familiar thing just for them, this time a declaration. "You lead and I'll follow."
Author's Note: At long last, Roland makes his first and last appearance!
Well, last as far as chapters covering the actual war are concerned. I wasn't originally going to give him any involvement in this war whatsoever...not only because it's not his story, but because Mobius One isn't really a protagonist I have strong...hmm, shall we say brainrot for? Mainly because I'm not very strongly attached to 04 as I am to other titles (blasphemy, I know, I still like it shhh). Don't get me wrong, Roland still my dumb little brat and I'm happy with the character I've created for him, but he has his own story. After seeing a lot of people wanting to see him, but not wanting to heavily involve him, I decided to give him a small segment. Again, I wasn't going to, but I found myself stumped for a scene to work with and I had the inspiration, so I ran with it. And since I liked the result, I decided not to cut it.
He won't be stealing the spotlight, but I figured the best way to show that as well as show that he and his baby sister don't completely ignore the other's existence is to have him offer minimal support from the background. But much like Phoenix (who was in fact Freeman's identity in that cameo, to any who missed it), he's staying off to the sidelines. He isn't going to be showing up Mihaly or tangling with the Arsenal Bird or Hugin and Munin. This is going to be the last bit of fan service I offer, most likely, not counting Kathryn and Hans and such (who are still taking a supporting role), because the story is Trigger's and the LRSSG's story.
But anyways! Enough of my rambling. Y'all know exactly what's coming up next, so hang tight.
As always, thanks for reading and I hope y'all enjoyed!