Three Strikes

by bluebellwren

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

56. The Good Die Young

Chapter Fifty-Five: The Good Die Young

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Shilage, Erusea.
October 24th, 2019.
1015hrs.

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The operation was completed as soon as the transport was full. They took what was needed to sustain them all for at least another month or so, based on the assumption that the war wasn't something they could just finish overnight. Naomi and Colonel Beckett made it clear they weren't taking anything more than what was needed, not that anyone needed to be told not to be greedy after seeing who they were taking from, but luckily for them Erusea had been stockpiling resources at the castle base for a long time. There was still more than enough for the people of Shilage. No one on either side was going to go without.

Even knowing this and being well aware of why they did what they did, no one within the LRSSG was interested in celebrating their victory. The town surrounding the base of the castle had gone unscathed by some stroke of luck, with every single building still standing and in one piece, the roads having suffered the worst of it. If there was any damage to anything that wasn't minimal it was military, and the civilians had all been moved to safety. The same couldn't be said for the castle itself, but every target there had been military. They did their jobs well enough that there wasn't much if any collateral damage, but even so none of them felt good about what they had done.

They all gathered around the transport on the makeshift runway, everything loaded up and ready to go. All they had to do now was wait for the group they sent out in search of the wreckage of that advanced fighter to come back with news. Her father had offered to lead the group, and Bandog went with him and a handful of other soldiers. The rest of them sorted and loaded up the supplies, then took the precious little free time they had to try and rest for a bit. Something they found wasn't easy.

Naomi couldn't do anything but pace without anything to do, while her wingmen and the rest of her men all stood or sat around the pavement. She was exhausted, but she couldn't settle down. Not until her father and Bandog got back. Not until she knew what General Shilage's fate was. He had been shot down and that should have been enough for her, but it wasn't. And the worst part was that she didn't know if she hoped he hadn't made it or not. After he just dropped his burdens onto her, part of her didn't want him to get off that easily. But she knew as long as he wasn't going to be able to come near her or her wingmen again she'd be happy. Or she should be.

Then there was that comment about the drone production. The file Genette had gone over with them contained information about the AI that Belka had lent to Erusea, but they only knew of the researchers and engineers working on the project. The AI was created to be able to learn and grow, seemingly with the intent to create a perfect soldier, and they knew Erusea was using one of their own 'legendary' aces to create it. But whoever they got that information from didn't seem to know who that ace was any more than they did. Naomi had had a hunch but for some reason hearing it more or less confirmed was weird. She wanted an explanation. Or something.

Admittedly, since their operation to take back Tyler Island she hadn't been thinking about the drones that much. It had been in the back of her mind after having a million other things to be worried about, but now that the biggest of her concerns was out of the way there wasn't really anything standing in the way of that now. Unfortunately, since all they knew was that killer drones existed out there and no idea when they were going to be deployed there wasn't anything to be done about it except be worried.

Her train of thought was derailed and her pacing halted when Knocker broke the silence that had settled in. He didn't even glance her way as he told her, "Settle down already, Trigger. I'm getting tired just watching you."

"What else is there to do?" Naomi replied, genuinely hoping someone might be able to give her an answer. She wasn't good at sitting still, no point in trying to hide that. A few of them looked over at her, then at each other, but no one gave her a solution. "I can't relax. I want to get out of here and I want my father and Bandog to hurry up and get back. There's just no way there's that much of that plane left."

"I dunno, there's a chance whatever is left of it is scattered everywhere," Lanza said, almost as if he was trying to set her at ease. Naomi wasn't sure if it worked or made it worse. "It's bound to take some time. Besides, if they run into any trouble it's not like they can't handle themselves."

"I wouldn't be worried about them. Look around," Skald said, nodding towards the encampment set up a few miles from them, just barely in view, out in one of the vast fields Shilage had across its landscapes. It was a good distance from the town, made up of tents that seemed to be mostly a temporary hospital the military had put out there, but despite the signs of activity from the vehicles coming and going the soldiers that remained paid the LRSSG little if any attention. They went unbothered by each other, as though the battle from before had never happened. Skald crossed his arms and sighed. "These people never wanted to put up a fight. We just brought one to them."

"I wouldn't blame them if they wanted to drop us on the spot," Jaeger said, avoiding eye contact with any of them. "This town is of high cultural value…not to mention these people have suffered enough at the hands of the greedy. We may have had our reasons, but this isn't something I'm proud of."

Faun glanced at all of them and then out towards the encampment. "Our 'reasons' don't matter to anyone. We may have done what we thought was best, and yeah we may have saved our own people, but we're gonna answer for this."

"Didn't we say we were gonna stop worryin' about this? It happened, end of story," Húxiān chimed with a huff. She was clearly bothered by the whole thing, but too tired to hear anything else about it. "We can sit here and feel sorry for ourselves or we can take the good from the situation. We won't be going hungry and Mr. X is finally gone. We'll answer for all of this when the time comes."

Everyone murmured their own agreement, but Naomi just resumed her pacing. Húxiān was right, and all of them brought up valid concerns, but they weren't the only thing on her mind. "That's not what I'm worried about," she said. "It's just like Count said. This war isn't over just because we shot down Mr. X."

"Y'know, when I said that you weren't supposed to obsess over it," Count pointed out. He'd been strangely quiet, a lot like Naomi had been, and kept out of the discussion. He was just as tired as everyone else, though he was apparently trying not to show it. When Naomi didn't answer, just glanced at him, he sighed. "I seriously doubt he's doing so good after that fight, even if he did make it out."

Tabloid looked over at Naomi, tilting his head with a slightly sympathetic look on his face. "You finally got him out of the way, Trigger. Don't tell me he's still messing with your head."

Naomi didn't answer right away, biting the inside of her cheek and looking them over once before she answered. It was only a couple of seconds, which she hoped wasn't enough to make them worry. "Maybe. I dunno. It's just a whole…stupid mess, just forget about it. I'm not worried," she said quickly, not exactly lying though probably sounding less certain than she meant to. They didn't say anything, and she decided she couldn't stand any more awkward silences. "How do you guys feel about it? Now that we finally shot him down, I mean."

The question created one of the silences she'd been hoping to avoid, with everyone avoiding eye contact as they all tried to think the question over. She knew it was probably something she should have avoided asking after she said it, but if there was something they all needed to get off their chest she wanted them to be able to. If it got them to stop worrying about her then she could tolerate the awkwardness, and if they didn't want to say anything then she'd leave them alone. It had been a very long morning for everyone, she wouldn't blame them.

Knocker was the first one to answer, shrugging slightly and lowering his voice. It almost sounded difficult for him to answer. "It doesn't feel as good as I thought it would."

Fencer was the next one to answer. "Yeah, he's right. I kinda thought that finally seeing that guy get what was coming to him after all this but…" he trailed off, hesitating, but then he swallowed. "I'm not really sure how I feel, you know? It's like you said. It's just a whole 'stupid mess'."

"Right…yeah, that sums it up," Naomi said, taking a deep breath. She looked over at Boggard and Footpad, who had both been quiet since they landed, then at Faun and Knocker. "Are you guys gonna be okay?"

"We'll be fine. He's gone now," Boggard replied, as if he was talking about a bogeyman over an ace pilot. And as far as anyone was concerned that's exactly what he was talking about. General Shilage had haunted them almost since the war began and now he was gone. It should have been a weight off of everyone's shoulders, but as Naomi was realizing that wasn't the case, regardless of what Boggard said. He didn't sound so sure of himself when he answered.

"It may feel weird now, but we'll all be okay eventually. Once this war is over everything will be a bad memory and we can rest easy," Footpad said, trying to seem optimistic. He gave her a half-hearted smile. "As long as we just…don't overthink things, we'll be good to go. I just want to put this whole day behind me, honestly."

"I think you speak for all of us," Jaeger replied, and Naomi couldn't argue with him. The others seemed to agree with the sentiment. Unfortunately, they weren't able to do the one thing they all seemed to want to do.

As Naomi moved to resume her pacing, Count let out a huff that made her hesitate and look back at him. "Alright, didn't you listen to a thing we just said? We're all gonna be fine, now stop worrying and rest. Sit down. Something," he said, taking a few steps towards her. "Seriously. You look like shit, Trigger."

Naomi blinked, a strange sense of déjà vu coming over her as she recalled an eerily similar situation. Though actually it was almost funny. If she hadn't been so tired she might have even chuckled, but instead she just gave a slight smile and blew out a breath through her nose. "You said the same thing to me the first time I fought him, after Yinshi Valley," she said. Trying to lighten the mood and maybe distract from the question she asked, she added, "Didn't know you were always this worried about me."

Count almost looked embarrassed, something that was quickly replaced by frustration as he rolled his eyes. "Well, evidently you haven't learned anything if you're still being so stubborn," he retorted, and she noticed he avoided addressing what she'd said. The others, specifically Cyclops Squadron and the rest of Strider, all kept quiet and seemed suddenly amused or exasperated. Count went on, his expression softening some. "I feel like I say that to you a lot, actually…"

"What, that she looks like shit?" Húxiān asked him with a snort. He almost glared at her, which answered her question. She nodded slowly and gave a slight, almost mocking smirk. "Yeah, you kinda do."

Tabloid managed a soft laugh. "Ah, that's just Count's weird little way of showing people that he doesn't hate them." He looked between the two of them, with a look that gave Naomi the idea there was more he wasn't saying, then shook his head. "I swear you guys are something else."

"Between the insults and then practically competing over who's gonna die for the other first, I'd say that sums it up," Lanza commented with a short laugh of his own. Judging from the looks the others were wearing, it was starting to feel like there was some inside joke that Naomi and Count weren't being let in on. Naomi had a few ideas, but she had no clue how they managed to keep them out of it.

"If you think they're competitive now you should have seen them back in Spare," Tabloid remarked, only half-joking. He wasn't entirely wrong. The two of them did have a weird rivalry even up to their early operations with the LRSSG, and all that energy had to go somewhere apparently.

Count gave a short huff, looking back at Naomi. They both managed to get a good chuckle at their own expense, and he said with a softer tone than before, "Well, I guess some things never change, then."

"Evidently not, since you're still an ass and she's still a dumbass," a new voice, one that Naomi immediately recognized as Bandog's voice, sounded from behind her. Everyone quickly turned their attention to him and Sarge as the two approached, breaking off from the group of soldiers they'd been with while Naomi's father spoke with Major Grimm and Long Caster several yards away.

The conversation they'd been having was quickly forgotten as soon as Bandog joined in, everyone becoming far more interested in the return of their comrades than in whatever they had been talking about. Even Count didn't seem interested in coming up with a comeback once they realized what his return meant. Sarge walked in step with him, looking like she shared in the same exhaustion that he and everyone else was probably feeling, being oddly laid back likely as a result of being in 'work mode'. That didn't stop Húxiān from approaching and greeting them both, something neither seemed to mind.

There was a look of what almost looked like concern on her face as she looked them both over. "Hey, there you are. We were just wondering about you guys," she said, crossing her arms. "You run into any trouble out there?"

"That…depends on your definition of trouble, I suppose," Bandog answered with a sigh, glancing over his shoulder.

Knocker raised an eyebrow at him. "It 'depends'? What does that mean?"

"Well, we found the wreckage of that fighter without any trouble and got pictures of whatever was left," Bandog replied, taking a deep breath as though he had to prepare himself to go on. He almost sounded irritated as he continued. "And the trip back is actually where the trouble comes in. We spent the last thirty minutes arguing with some of the Erusean troops back there –" he gestured towards the camp set up in the distance," – er…I guess they're Voslagian troops, actually. But anyways, they gave us a hard time."

The camp was far enough away that it would be hard to tell if any of their guys were over there, but the sudden activity they'd been able to catch a glimpse of suddenly made sense. Still, it was a bit confusing. Naomi furrowed her brow, looking past Bandog to eye her father and Major Grimm. A handful of Osean soldiers blocked her view, so she gave up and went on to ask Bandog, "You guys give them any reason to give you a hard time?"

"Of course not. In fact, you'd think it would have been the exact opposite," Bandog said, almost scoffing.

"The opposite?" Tabloid echoed, glancing from him back towards Major Grimm like Naomi had done. "You're being awfully vague."

"Well, I'm not exactly the best at breaking delicate news to people. You as well as anyone oughta know that by now, Tabloid," Bandog said. Naomi had a sinking feeling she knew what the 'delicate news' was, which she could easily figure out once she put two and two together, but she didn't want to think about it. He looked at Naomi, his expression almost turning to a sympathetic one. Almost. "Your father wanted to have a talk with you, Trigger. He'll clear everything up."

"You're not exactly making me feel any better," Naomi said, forcing an awkward smile.

"That's probably because I'm not trying to make you feel better," Bandog said, then he looked at Húxiān. She gave him a curious look, then her expression went soft and Bandog gave an almost defeated sigh as he looked over the rest of them. "I'm not trying to worry you either. Point is, everything's fine and we'll be on our way home soon enough. Assuming you lot got everything loaded up, anyways."

They all murmured in response, taking turns giving him the rundown on the situation while he and the others had been out. It didn't take very long before the conversation shifted, all of them trying to take attention off the situation around them. Naomi was barely paying attention to her father, keeping her eyes on the small group of soldiers standing by her father and Major Grimm and trying not to think too hard about what the two of them might be discussing. Bandog might as well have just gone out and said it, though.

Her fight with Mr. X, every encounter she had had with him, and the possibility he could have survived had been running through her head all morning. And she had a pretty good idea that they had either returned what they found of his body to his people or he had made it out of their fight alive. The problem was she still didn't know which she wanted to be the case. All the time she'd spent wanting to shoot him down, basically wishing he was dead, and now she felt conflicted when she should have felt relief. It was ridiculous.

Naomi wasn't sure how many minutes went by before her father and Major Grimm stopped their conversation, the latter nodding while the former moved past the Osean soldiers that had gathered around. She straightened up, snapping out of her thoughts, and everyone else's attention was drawn towards her father as he raised his voice just enough so she could hear him from where he was standing. He seemed to be taking care not to sound too harsh as he called out to her.

"Naomi! Come here a minute," he said, and Naomi didn't need to be told twice. Count and the others were right behind her just a few seconds later, at a much slower pace than she was going. She closed the distance between them in just a couple of paces at a light jog, coming to a halt as her father reached out to place his hands on her shoulders. "Calm down, it's not exactly urgent. There's just…a couple of people that want to meet you."

"Is everything okay?" Naomi asked, swallowing the knot in her throat. She glanced over his shoulder at the two men standing beside Major Grimm, and she immediately recognized them. They looked different, courtesy of various cuts and bruises all over their faces, but the Voslagian emblems on their flight suits was a dead giveaway even if she hadn't remembered that picture of General Shilage's squadron. They wore severe expressions and avoided eye contact. She looked back at her father. "What's going on?"

Her father took a deep breath, stepping aside so they could all see one another clearly. He kept one hand on her shoulder, though, either to comfort her or hold her back. Whichever one it was, she had no clue. Carefully, looking between her and the Sol Squadron pilots, he explained, "Well…you succeeded in defeating General Shilage. That being said, he survived the crash when his plane went down."

"Whoah, whoah, that guy's still alive?" Count spoke up, immediately moving to Naomi's side, opposite her father.

One of the pilots, the dark haired one of the two and the one wearing his arm in a sling, spoke up in response, immediately defensive. "Relax, Osean. Thanks to you and Three Strikes he'd probably be better off dead," he said, careful not to snap but clearly not taking kindly to the conversation. Almost reluctantly, he went on. "He won't be flying again during this war, if he ever flies again at all."

The younger one, one that looked barely older than Naomi, hesitantly added, "He's barely the same King that we recognize. If anything, you can rest easy. You pretty much finished the job…"

"Don't talk like that, Roald!" the first one hissed. If Naomi was remembering his name correctly, he was Hermann, then. Hermann Jonas. Which made his companion Roald Kedves. Although they both looked angry, she noticed that their eyes didn't have any fire. Jonas especially looked utterly defeated, he just wasn't going to admit it. That alone proved more than anything that he was one of General Shilage's men. He glared at Naomi, but his tone wasn't as harsh. "He lived to fly and you've taken that away from him. If it were up to me, you'd be the one with their wings clipped, not King."

"You keep calling him that, but he's not much of a 'King' anymore, is he?" Knocker asked, dangerously close to taunting the two pilots. The atmosphere got even more tense, and Naomi had a bad feeling that things could only go south from there.

"Hey, hey, watch it," her father said sternly, obviously picking up on the same thing.

"Look, I didn't come here to pick a fight with you people. If anything, I want you gone. You've taken enough from us for one day," Jonas said with a sigh, his shoulders relaxing and his posture no longer quite as rigid. "And frankly I don't have the patience nor the energy to put up with you people right now."

"So what do you want, then?" Húxiān almost demanded, not taking kindly to the tone.

"It's not about what I want. It's about what King wants, and by extension…what Three Strikes wants," Jonas said, looking over at Naomi.

Naomi blinked, feeling herself tense. She didn't break eye contact with him, but that didn't stop her from sounding a bit more frustrated than she meant to. "And just what the hell does he want?"

"As much as I hate to admit that there's some truth to what Roald said…King – or…Mihaly…isn't in the best condition. He's conscious, he's stable, but he's been through decades of combat," Jonas explained, clenching his fists and looking away. He took a deep breath. "He probably would have died had your men not brought him back to us, though then again he wouldn't even be in this mess if not for you, so…"

"Get to the point. Let's not waste each other's time here," Major Grimm said with a sigh, noticing the few eye rolls that Jonas' comment earned. Naomi had wanted to, but found she couldn't do anything but stand there and listen.

"He's waited ages for an opponent like you, Three Strikes. And now that he's been defeated and left in the state he's in…he wants to see you. Face-to-face, one-on-one," Jonas said at last. "A conversation on completely equal footing. That's how he put it, anyways. Though you could reject his offer and leave right now if you wanted to, just know that it would say more about your honor than his."

"We know plenty about his 'honor'," Boggard muttered. Naomi wasn't sure who jabbed him for saying it out loud, but she heard the sound and him grunting in response to it. Hermann and Roald glanced behind her, but their attention went back to her as everyone waited for her response.

After a few seconds, Jaeger broke the silence as he pointed out, "Given everything that's happened, we have every reason to suspect this is a trap of some sort."

"Were that the case you would all be dead already," Jonas said. He glanced at Naomi for her reaction. "But the thing is…regardless of what you did here today, King respects you, at least as a pilot. You and your allies will be able to leave in peace, Three Strikes. It's not like we're really in any condition to put up a fight."

"Trigger?" Count's hand was on her shoulder now, his voice softening. "You don't owe that guy a damn thing. But…whatever you do, we'll follow your lead."

Although Naomi wasn't sure at first how to respond, she already knew what she was going to do. She had to see him face-to-face. That was the only thing she could think of. After everything he'd done, she couldn't let him get off that easily, and she couldn't leave until she was certain he wasn't a threat any longer. She needed closure. She took a deep breath, clenching her own fists, and nodded slowly. "Alright, let's just get this over with."

---

1045hrs.

The 'hospital' was about what Naomi expected. A temporary structure, less of a traditional tent one imagined and more of a haphazardly thrown together building. The lighting inside was dim and most of the cots that lined the walls were empty, only a handful occupied by any patients that looked in need of long term care. Naomi didn't pay much attention to them, focused solely on the occupied cot near the corner of the room where General Shilage was lying.

Outside the LRSSG and the pilots from Sol Squadron were all waiting for her, the latter probably wanting to spend time with their leader. From the way they were talking, Naomi wondered if he was worse than they were letting on, but as long as she got to talk to him just once that was good enough for her. She didn't really know if she cared if he made it through the night or not. It was like she was almost indifferent. Almost. She still felt guilty and she didn't know why. Her own head and emotions were confusing and overwhelming her and none of this was helping.

The few military doctors and medics moving about didn't pay her any mind, too busy with their patients and work to care or likely even notice that she wasn't one of their own. They all wore what looked like standard Erusean uniforms, but where there should have been a patch of the Erusean flag it was either missing or had been replaced by what she guessed was the Voslagian flag. It had the same colors and a similar composition to the faded Voslagian Air Force patch that Jonas and Kedves were wearing.

She wondered what happened to the actual Eruseans that had been stationed here from the start but she guessed they were either run off or killed. It wasn't like it mattered at that point. The thought of leaving her comrades and her father alone with people that were dedicated and strong enough to chase off the Erusean forces probably would have worried her under normal circumstances, say nothing of two pilots from Sol Squadron. But she was giving them the benefit of the doubt. The fact they were willing to have a civil conversation with the people that had just bombed them was probably more than enough to earn that.

Naomi carefully moved out of anyone's way, approaching Mr. X's bedside. The pilot that had given her so much trouble and haunted her all this time was in an almost sad state now. He was still in his flight suit, the flight gear having practically been ripped off him and thrown off to the side on a nearby chair, though the flight suit itself had been zipped down to his waist likely to examine him for any bruises or internal injuries. At a glance it might have looked like he was fine, but seeing him up close she could see just how badly the fight had affected him.

His skin was pale, almost ashy looking, and his hair frizzing in some places and sticking to his face in others along with the beard he had made him look even more disheveled. His hands and face had been cut up and bruised enough that it was almost painful to look at, but there didn't seem to be much swelling. If not for the severe scar across the left side of his face, something Naomi knew for a fact had been there long before she ever came along, he might have looked like a regular old man. Looking at him now, 'Mr. X' and 'legendary ace' weren't images that came to mind.

He appeared to be sleeping, laying perfectly still on his back and breathing slowly. Each breath was a ragged, strained wheeze that made Naomi's chest hurt just listening to it. All her anger from before ebbed away to something closer to pity than sympathy. She didn't have the heart to disturb him, figuring she could at least show him some basic decency, so she let out a soft sigh and slowly sat down on the empty cot beside his. Only a few seconds went by before he finally spoke, almost startling her.

"Here to finish what you started, Three Strikes?" The General's voice was almost as ragged as his breathing, and although he had opened his eyes he closed them almost immediately as a harsh cough forced its way out. The fit lasted a moment or two, though he did his hardest to suppress it. He winced, swallowing before he added, "Or maybe you wanted to gloat?"

"Neither." Naomi shifted in her seat, keeping a blank expression and suppressing the slight rush of annoyance at the comment. Almost like he was playing dumb. "I came here because your men told me you wanted to talk."

"I figured as much. You don't strike me as a murderer, regardless of what your air force may think," General Shilage said, opening one eye just barely and glancing towards her. He must have learned quite a few things about her, not just her name, and it bothered her. Naomi tensed without meaning to, and she guessed he noticed her reaction. He let out a breath that may have been his attempt at a chuckle as he closed his eyes again. "You are easy to get a rise out of, though…but I learned that the hard way, didn't I?"

Naomi stared down at him, unsure what to say. She wanted a chance to confront him once and for all and she finally got what she wanted. Twice. And yet she couldn't think of a single thing to say. She wanted to scream and yell and call him every name in the book or demand some kind of an explanation, but she didn't see the point in anything. Instead, before any awkward silences could settle in, she sucked in a breath and blurted out the only question that seemed even kind of reasonable. "What do you want from me, General?"

That didn't seem to be what he was expecting. He opened his eyes again, but kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling overhead. He seemed to consider his answer before he replied. "I wanted a chance to speak with you. Properly," he admitted slowly. "To have a conversation with the pilot that bested me. One that's not in the heat of battle…and hopefully not on my deathbed."

"I'm not letting you get off that easy," Naomi said, voicing the same thought that had been running through her head all morning.

He glanced at her, his stony expression almost softening. Like he thought what she'd said was fair. But if he did, he didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing. "What about you? You came, just as I'd asked. So it seems to me that you want something from me, too."

"Yeah, well, that should be obvious by now. It's not like I'm trying to hide that," Naomi said with a sigh. She'd wanted to get back at him for taking so many people from her, then she wanted to know what his deal with her was, and then about those drones. Really, she wondered if she'd even managed the first thing. She clenched and then unclenched her fists. "Your injuries…how bad are they?"

His brow raised slightly. "You're concerned for my health?"

"Just answer the question, old man," Naomi said, holding back a frustrated huff and closing her eyes to keep from rolling them.

"Hmm. Right…" he said, this time visibly hesitating. He took a deep breath, which forced another cough out of his chest. He managed to suppress it more this time, and eventually answered. "You can rest easy, if you're worried I'm going to be fighting you again any time soon. I can't feel my legs. And they have no way of knowing if that's permanent or not, so it's likely I'm going to be confined to this bed until this war is over."

Naomi blinked, feeling a hint of guilt coming back. She didn't know what to say. "Oh. I'm…sorry," she finally managed to say, though she wasn't sure if she actually meant her words or not. He gave a short grunt in response. "What about your cough?"

"You can't take credit for that one, Major," General Shilage answered. His lips almost made the beginnings of a smirk, as if he was trying to lighten the mood. Naomi didn't respond, so he went on. "I've been flying for a long time, and as much as I don't like to admit it my body could only handle so much of that. My lungs have been trying to give out since before this war began."

"And you kept flying anyways?" Naomi didn't know why she asked him that, other than the fact her curiosity got the better of her. She wasn't even sure if she cared to know, but it came out before she could stop it.

"As foolish as it was, I did. I let my pride get the better of me…in fact, all of this was due to my ego," he said, almost sounding like he felt guilty. Or maybe he was just grieving his own health and life. Naomi had no idea. The General continued. "In the end, I unleashed pure chaos on this world just so I could keep my wings."

"The drones. You mentioned them before you went down, when you said you made mistakes," Naomi responded, speaking slowly and carefully. She didn't want to sound confrontational or too demanding, worried she'd start a fight she couldn't back down from. "So…did you have a hand in making those things?"

"I did, more or less. They gave me the opportunity to fly again, so I took it," he said, like it was the most casual thing in the world. "And they collected all of the data from my dogfights to improve the drones' combat capabilities. The 'perfect soldier' to replace humans like us."

"They would basically put you out of a job. Say nothing of the havoc they're capable of," Naomi said. She looked his face over, trying to collect herself before she continued. "Did you know about the technology being used for their AI? The one that was created by Gründer Industries?"

"There was only so much I was privy to. But…yes. I knew of it, on some level," General Shilage responded, almost reluctantly. Like he didn't want to admit his mistakes as eagerly as before. "Using my flight data as a base, they would allow it to be able to learn and grow, so should there ever be an ace out there greater than the 'King of the Skies' they could easily defeat them. I don't have to tell you what this means for you now, do I?"

Naomi couldn't hold back a scoff. "What, are you saying I'm a better pilot than you?"

"You're not the one stuck in this cot, now are you?"

"Look, all I wanted to do was protect my wingmen. I don't really care which of us is the better pilot or whatever," Naomi said, taking a deep breath. She didn't have the energy to snap. "Why does it matter so much to you? Better yet, why turn on something you helped create?"

"You remember what I said, when you pointed out your wingmen were still on your side? I said it would be better to entrust the future to pilots like that…the whole reason I went after you was because I wanted a real fight from a real pilot," the General replied, clearly beating around the bush in spite of his own exhaustion. Naomi sat and heard him out, though. "A true ace. There are plenty of pilots out there just in it for the glory or the money. I just wanted to fly. The skies were my home, and if I was going to leave a legacy behind…I didn't want it to be some mindless machine."

"I don't want to be a part of your legacy," Naomi replied. Although she couldn't say she wouldn't want to do whatever to keep flying, she probably wouldn't have gone to the lengths he had. And she damn sure wouldn't have singled out someone just to satisfy her own ego. She wanted Mr. X gone because he would have killed more than just her wingmen if she gave him the chance, not because she had something to prove. "Please just get to the point."

"I only signed on to the project to keep flying. I'd lost hope in every pilot but myself and my students…they and my grandchildren are the one good thing I can leave behind. One thing I can be proud of," he explained, stifling another coughing fit before it could interrupt him. "The point is…you and your men showed me there was still a special breed of pilot out there. You especially. And it made me realize my mistakes. Despite my indifference, I still made something that would snuff out whatever was left of us. And it likely won't stop there. The people that made it…don't value humanity."

"You're one to talk," Naomi said, realizing she let it slip only after it was too late. He turned his head towards her slightly, almost looking curious. She swallowed. "I'm not proud of any killing I've done during this war. And even someone that's proud of that still admits they did it. You don't even seem to care."

"If I was going to fly I couldn't simply do so. There were orders I had to follow," he replied, almost nonchalantly. He turned his head completely towards her so he could clearly see her face. "The thrill of battle is what I enjoy, not so much the killing. But when you fly as long as I have you learn to live with it. I don't think you're any different. Consider this: you didn't have to launch an assault and raid our base and endanger so many people, but you did, and I'm sure you have your reasons. Or your orders."

"I'm sorry," Naomi said on instinct, apologizing to him even though he was the last person she'd ever wanted to apologize to. And frankly he wasn't the one she owed an apology to. He was right, though. She was the one giving those orders out for the most part, and while she didn't think highly of their actions she knew it was probably the best thing they could have done, whether she'd just wanted to settle a score or not. "For what it's worth, we were careful with choosing our targets. We weren't firing indiscriminately."

"You succeeded, which is impressive. From my understanding of what Hermann and Roald told me after I woke up, there weren't any civilian casualties," the General said, not at all sounding like he cared either way. He turned his head away from her again, resting his eyes. "The same can't be said for the soldiers out there. But everyone knows what they're signing up for."

"That doesn't make it any better," Naomi said, snapping and raising her voice slightly. Not enough to attract attention, thankfully. She wasn't sure if she was trying to justify her guilt about everything she'd done during this war or justify her anger and grief about her fallen friends. Either way, she once again spoke before she could stop herself and she didn't exactly regret it.

"I know. They had lives and families and goals, same as you and I, however different they may be. As I said, I'm not without humanity," he replied, going on as if she hadn't almost yelled at him. He probably wouldn't have cared if she had. "I may 'toy' with my enemies in order to test their skills, but if there are any with talent then I'm willing to acknowledge that. Your company commander was a good pilot, unfortunately we were on opposing sides and we both had a job to do."

"The battle was lost. We took control of Farbanti. There wasn't any point in your squadron engaging us," Naomi said, feeling her heart pounding. Her thoughts were racing and everything he had to say had just added more fuel to the fire. More salt to the wound. She kept her voice low, but she stopped trying to disguise her anger. "Just like there wasn't any point in chasing us down in Yinshi Valley, and there wasn't any point in you shooting down two people that couldn't even fight over Chopinburg!"

There was a sudden, tense silence between the two of them. General Shilage was staring up at the ceiling again, wearing a blank expression and giving no indication he was fazed by what she'd said. She wouldn't have called it an outburst, but if she didn't pull herself together then it would end up as one. At least no matter how she tried to justify her actions she still felt guilt for them and she'd willingly answer to anyone's death. But what she wasn't going to tolerate was someone sitting there and acting like the deaths of the people she cared about was just something to be brushed off.

The silence lasted at least a minute or two but it felt like an eternity had gone by before he spoke again. He lowered his voice, which made it sound even more gravelly if that was possible, though she guessed he was trying to sound softer based on the way his expression almost turned to a sympathetic one. "You're referring to one of the initial battles of the war, correct?" The General took Naomi's silence as confirmation, as if there were any other battles during this war that had taken place out there. "If they were unable to fight then they had no business engaging in combat."

"You fired the first shot," Naomi said, keeping her voice level.

"They turned to engage me, it was unavoidable. I did my job," he said with a sigh. "If those pilots were so important to you then where were you?"

"Doing my job and covering my allies' retreat. And every single damn day I regret not turning around and taking you down the first chance I got," Naomi said. She would probably feel bad later for saying what she felt out loud, but at that moment she just wanted to get it off her chest.

"You weren't ready then. You weren't quite ready at Yinshi Valley, either," the General said slowly. She might have taken offense, and at first she was about to argue with him, but deep down she knew he was right. At least on some level. So she let him continue. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Despite how it may look from your perspective…I never went out of my way to shoot down your allies. Or rather, the ones close to you, at least. It's just how it played out."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it…can't help how it looks or how I feel," Naomi said, almost grumbling. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands as she sucked in a sharp breath. The apology he gave her wasn't all that comforting, if it was genuine at all. When she finally lifted her head again, she found she just wanted to get away from the conversation. But she wasn't ready for that yet. "You never really answered my first question."

General Shilage glanced her way, forcing out a few short coughs and collecting himself before he answered. "Oh?"

"What do you want from me?" Naomi repeated. He looked like he was about to respond, likely to go back to what he had said before, but she didn't give him the chance to. "You said you went after me because you wanted a 'real' fight from a 'real' pilot. But you also said the rest of my wingmen showed you there were still real pilots out there. So why me?"

Really she didn't care why he chose her to be his white whale, what she cared about was that her being his target put the people she loved in harm's way. If there were plenty of other pilots out there that could have given him that same thrill and fight then why bother with her? It was almost unfair. Like it was some kind of cruel joke or payback that she got for being lucky and caring about the people she served with.

He gave a dry chuckle that almost set off another coughing fit, then he answered her. "They may be aces just like you but…you're an even rarer breed of pilot than they are," General Shilage said carefully. She stared at him, narrowing her eyes and waiting for him to go on. "If you take a look at history every war has their hero and their demon. They've been around long before we came about. And only a handful of pilots ever earn the right to stand alongside them in that history. I wanted to see how you were going to live up to your name."

"My father is a great pilot…" Naomi said at the mention of her name, almost feeling defensive on his behalf. Regardless of her father's actions she had a hard time seeing him as anything other than the person that raised her and loved her. She may have been furious with him for hiding his past from her, she may not condone what he did, but he was not 'Solo Wing Pixy' to her or some 'demon'. He wasn't really a hero, either, but he was her father.

"Your brother is, too. One may be more of a hero than the other, but I'm not here to comment on your family. You've heard enough of that, I'm sure. And besides that, you've come far enough to stand on your own, separate from them," General Shilage said, sounding almost wise. From the way he spoke it was almost like he knew where she was coming from, and she wondered what he felt about Shilage and separating from Erusea. She also found his mention of her brother curious, enough to further some decade long suspicions, but that wasn't her priority at her moment. The General went on to say, "I suppose what I should have said is that…I wanted to see how you would be making a name for yourself. And you didn't disappoint…Three Strikes. You showed promise from the first time we fought in that thunderstorm."

Naomi hesitated. She didn't think much of her past feats, never mind how the others spoke about them. Everything that was supposedly so spectacular she only did because she took whatever chance was given to her, and she didn't usually think about how stupid her ideas may be. She recalled what Count and Bandog had said after they flew through that sandstorm to chase down tankers, when everyone else jumped on board with Tabloid's idea she was some good luck charm. It wasn't something she'd done on purpose. They probably didn't stand by it anymore, she knew for a fact that Count didn't, but she couldn't help but think of it at that moment.

"It was just dumb luck. Everything I accomplished or survived, I mean. All I wanted is to get my guys back home safe," Naomi told him, taking a deep breath. "I never wanted to make anything out of myself."

"And now you're in a rather difficult position where you don't have a choice. I never asked to be the 'King of the Skies', but I kept the title anyways," he said, tilting his head towards her again. "And now it's your turn."

Naomi nodded slowly, feeling like she was running out of the energy needed to keep the conversation up for much longer. Something that usually didn't happen to her, but General Shilage was a very draining person and the LRSSG was probably overstaying their welcome. "Put a stop to the drone production…right."

"I trust that I'm putting my faith in the right person, Major."

"If I put a stop to all of this, it won't be for you, General," Naomi said, getting to her feet. Her muscles ached in protest, but she ignored them, pacing slightly as she stared down at him. "It won't be for you or me. It'll be for my men and my people and those civilians out there…and every other person that's gotten caught up in this war."

"I understand," General Shilage said, looking up at her. Although it was still hard to read any clear emotions on his face, there was definitely something there. It was hard to tell if there was any fire left in his eyes, but she didn't know if he'd given up yet or not. Considering he just let himself go down with his plane, she wondered if he had. Maybe he wanted to talk to her for that reason, for the same thing Naomi had wanted to talk to him for. Closure. He suppressed another cough. "Don't fail your men like I failed mine. I…I pray you succeed."

"I will. Bet on it…I mean, I made it this far, right?" Naomi gave a forced, awkward laugh and a half-hearted smile. General Shilage only gave her a short grunt in response before they both went quiet. If there was anything more to say neither one of them felt like saying it, and Naomi knew they both needed to be away from each other. They'd done what they could. She looked him over. "I guess this is goodbye, General."

He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper as he closed his eyes and lowered his voice once again. "Take care, Three Strikes."

Naomi felt her throat tighten and her hands start to shake, but she kept herself together, giving a curt nod. "Right. You too."

The only sound that filled the room was the chatter of the nearby medics and the General's rough breathing, which told her it was best not to stick around much longer. He wasn't the only one exhausted, as much as she hated feeling any kind of empathy for him. But she couldn't help that. He was almost pitiful, as much as she wanted to hate him she just didn't have the energy to stay angry. Her only goal now was to do her job and get the supplies back to the refugees.

Then she had to figure out how to win a war.

---

Tyler Island, Spring Sea.
1430hrs.

The base was still in one piece by the time they arrived early in the afternoon and everyone that had stayed behind was there to greet them when they returned. Naomi barely had the energy to keep up much of a conversation, but she put on a tired smile for them all anyways. Judging from the fact they all spent most of the flight back home in silence, as well as how visibly exhausted they all were, she had a feeling the others were in the same boat. But their operation was complete and they were back at the only home they had, which meant maybe they could put the morning behind them.

After the refugees finished passing on their gratitude to Naomi and the other LRSSG pilots, they went on to greet Bandog and the other soldiers they had become well acquainted with and offer their help unloading the supplies. Avril and the pilots from Mage Squadron were the only ones to pick up on the heavier atmosphere, heading over to their wingmates as soon as Naomi and the others were given a moment to catch their breath. Avril reached them first as Clown, Kathryn, Hans, and Tailor stopped to speak with Major Grimm. Tailor glanced their way, though, probably eager to hear about the operation.

"Hey," Avril said as soon as she reached them, as usual keeping things short and simple. She looked each and every one of them over, her blank expression almost softening. There wasn't the usual playful, snarky edge to her voice when she spoke though. In fact, her tone was surprisingly sympathetic. "You guys look terrible."

"Well, it was unavoidable. Especially given the morning we had," Jaeger replied. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, his movements stiff. "We made it through. Obviously. I think Trigger had the worst of it."

Avril glanced at Naomi, Count, and Tabloid. She easily put the pieces together, knowing exactly what they had been expecting to run into. "So Mr. X decided to show after all, huh?" she asked, and although it was rhetorical everyone nodded. She placed her hands on her hips. "Did y'all finally put Mr. X and his goons in their place?"

"Damn straight she did," Lanza answered before Naomi could, placing a hand on her shoulder while the rest of Cyclops Squadron was quick to agree. He wasn't as energetic as he usually was, but it was still clear that the questionable actions aside he was glad that General Shilage was out of the picture. Naomi wouldn't argue with him there.

"I didn't get to see the fight for myself, but we were eavesdropping the whole time," Tabloid said, speaking a bit softer than Lanza. And given how much Lanza had toned his demeanor down under the circumstances that was saying something. "Even with the tricks that guy had up his sleeve I don't think he ever stood a chance."

"Hey, knock it off. You're all giving me way too much credit," Naomi said, hoping she didn't sound as put off by the comment as she felt. It just didn't sit right with her. Maybe it was her conversation with Mr. X himself after the battle, she really didn't know, but it made her feel weird. "I only pulled it off because I didn't want him coming after any more of my guys. It was dumb luck, plain and simple."

"Dumb luck or not you may as well have done the impossible," Count commented, almost sounding like he was scolding her. He crossed his arms, changing his tone and expression as he continued. And when he did he sounded…proud? That was the closest Naomi could think to describe it. "You took on a living nightmare in an experimental jet and won. You've earned the right to brag, Trig."

"An experimental jet, huh?" Avril blinked, looking almost surprised. There was a glint in her eyes as a small smile appeared on her face. She tilted her head up slightly, her tone still softer than usual even though the playful mocking returned. "Going up against an ace way out of your league in a superior plane…sounds awfully familiar. Guess you're still the same dumbass I'm used to."

The others all voiced their own agreement and their jokes at her expense and Naomi couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. But this time in a good way. She preferred affectionate insults over compliments any day. It was something she was used to that didn't put her on the spot, and after that dogfight she needed something familiar. She managed to crack a small smile, pretty sure she was probably blushing by now. "Hey, I'm not the only dumbass that was out there, y'know," she said, still wanting to give her own wingmen and allies the credit they deserved. "It's not like I'm a one woman army. I couldn't have taken on Mr. X's lackeys without their help."

"We just did our jobs, Trigger," Knocker said, almost sounding like he was arguing.

"And I just did mine. If I can't be modest neither can any of you," Naomi said stubbornly, hoping he'd back down and she wouldn't have to go back and forth with any of them on this. She wasn't going to be the only one stuck in the limelight. "We all took care of them, together. Team effort. Don't make me order you to admit that."

"You could try, but he'd sooner commit insubordination than brag about his achievements," it was Clown that said that, Mage Squadron having finally come within earshot and joined the conversation. Knocker rolled his eyes at him and his wingmen all chuckled. As much as he could try to act all tough, Clown was able to get anyone to relax and cheer up. But in order to do that he had to become very good at reading the room, and he eased up accordingly. "In all seriousness, how're ya'll holding up?"

"We're hanging in there, but it's been a long day," Skald answered this time, helping the others to avoid having to go over every little thing they were feeling. It would all be the same anyways. Pretty much 'good' but also somehow 'bad', which actually summed up how most of their operations had left them in Naomi's opinion.

Fencer nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm ready to get something to eat and go to bed."

"We haven't even been debriefed yet, but I'm beat," Húxiān replied, stifling a yawn. "Sun's not goin' down for a while but I wouldn't care if I slept the whole afternoon away."

"I think you guys might get your wish before long. Long Caster went to speak to Colonel Beckett," Tailor said, nodding towards the main HQ building in the distance. As usual, he was careful not to refer to his father as 'dad' given his position, and he was getting better at avoiding any slip ups. He crossed his arms. "I think Pixy must have gone with him. Something about some pictures or something you all came back with." He paused, looking around at them all, then carefully he asked, "So…did you guys finally take out Mr. X?"

"Yeah, and they were just telling me about it. Apparently he was in some experimental jet or something, too," Avril said, and she actually reminded Naomi of Samantha with the way she sounded proud and impressed at once. It was almost strange. Of course, she was quick to get back to teasing them. "I can only imagine what this idiot did to pull that off…which reminds me I'm gonna have to make sure you didn't find some way to trash your engine."

"Aww, cut her some slack. I think all things considered you could let her off the hook just this once," Kathryn said, coming to Naomi's defense. She gave her a small smile, almost a reassuring one. "Seems like you're gunning for a place in legends now. But I guess that should've been expected."

"I hate to say it, but I'm just glad he won't be an issue or not. Can't say I ever wanted him dead, but this war has a chance of ending sooner without him out there," Hans said, not sounding bitter but he did sound like he was trying to keep calm. If anything, he sounded like he felt bad about the whole thing. It was only then that Naomi noticed Kathryn's hold on his hand. He took a breath before he continued. "To think he got his hands on some advanced fighter, too…those drones would be the least of our concerns."

"Speaking of the fighter, I'm guessing that's what the photographs are about?" Kathryn asked, looking to Naomi for an answer.

"Yeah, yeah. I wanted them to have something else to look over and maybe…I dunno, go over the wreckage or something," Naomi said. She was almost hesitant to tell them that he survived, and as the rest of Strider and Golem Squadron looked at her it only made her more reluctant to say anything, but they needed to know. "They ended up finding him out there, too. He, uh…well, he made it out."

"Wait, hold on, so that bastard still has a chance to come after us again?" Clown asked, on the verge of yelling when he did.

"No. He may have survived, but…well, he asked to speak with Trigger," Jaeger said, jumping in to explain to clear up any misunderstandings. "She said he told her he can't feel his legs. I'm assuming he was paralyzed in the crash. If he recovers I doubt it will be any time soon."

"Yeah. I wouldn't be worried about it," Naomi said, the mention of her talk with him putting a damper on her mood again. She looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact before she looked back up, hoping to change the subject. "Anyways, I take it nothing happened here while we were gone?"

Kathryn shook her head. "Not a thing. It's been clear skies all around," she said, letting out a sigh. She looked up at the sky, the cloud cover scattered enough that the sun was out for a change. "We're still on standby, though. Colonel Beckett and even the Princess don't think we should let our guards down."

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Faun commented. "Hard to let your guard down when you can barely tell your friend from your foe…"

"Alright, well, enough about all of this. How about we go get that debriefing done and go grab something to eat?" Fencer suggested, clapping his hands together. He put on a smile in hopes of lightening the mood, and no one had the energy to put up a fight with him.

Everyone that had been a part of the transport crew and their troops on the ground stayed behind, along with Avril and Mage Squadron. They decided to lend a hand as well, and they promised they'd come by with Bandog later. For Mage it was more because they needed to be ready to scramble if anything should go south, but they didn't have to wait around the hangars all day to be ready. Things weren't that bad yet.

As far as Naomi could tell, things at the base had been quiet. Actually things were almost peaceful here. There wasn't any fighting ever since they arrived, the base had been cleaned up and repaired as best as they could do, and it was out of the way of the war now. There was a part of her that wondered if they couldn't just hide out here and wait for everything to just disappear. She wasn't a coward, she was just tired. She'd gladly fight off anyone that came looking for a fight, if they did wait things out. But that was the selfish side of her talking, and it wasn't a thought she was proud of.

They couldn't hide here and pray everything blew over. If they wanted this to end and if they wanted to go to their real homes then they had to take care of things themselves. Naomi knew that. She didn't think the entire OADF depended on her or that she was going to save the world, but she did think she was probably one of the few people within their ranks that was stupid enough to do what probably needed to be done. She was ready and willing and able, so she might as well step up.

Their walk from the hangars hadn't been a long one, or it didn't feel like a long one, which surprised Naomi. When they stepped into the HQ, they were just in time to run into her father, Long Caster, and Colonel Beckett on their way out, which caught them all off guard. They walked in on the three of them mid-conversation, only able to make out one thing her father had been saying to Beckett. "...just need a break. They're practically running on empty out there –"

The conversation came to an abrupt end as the three of them noticed the group of pilots. Beckett blinked, surprised, but quickly recovered. "Ah. There you guys are. We were just about to come and see you."

"Is everything okay? Naomi asked, trying not to sound too anxious.

"Everything's fine, Trigger," Long Caster replied, quick to try and set everyone at ease. "We just went over the operation with Colonel Beckett."

"And the photographs from the crash site," Beckett added, giving them a small smile. "I know you came all the way over here, but I was talking with Pixy and Long Caster and I want you to take it easy for the afternoon."

Knocker furrowed his brow, almost confused. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning I want to analyze these photographs and data from the fight, get a better idea of what that plane we were dealing with was, and I don't think a debrief is going to help you all decompress the way it should," Beckett explained quickly, clearing his throat. He looked them all over, his expression the same sympathetic one that Clown, Kathryn, and Avril had all been wearing. "Besides that, there's something else we've been working on today. We'll review everything tomorrow with clear heads and fresh eyes. Not exactly professional but…I think you've all earned a break."

"So…we can go eat?" Boggard asked, almost sounding hopeful.

"And sleep?" Footpad quickly added.

"That's exactly what it means," Beckett replied, almost seeming amused by how much they were looking forward to food and a nap. They were almost like children. "So for now, you're all dismissed. Go and eat, rest, play cards. Just as long as you take it easy, alright? We'll handle the debrief first thing."

No one was about to argue with him, happily heading off on their way, talking over one another as they went. Every last one of them was heading for the mess hall, wasting no time at all. Naomi didn't follow them, watching as they left. Count and Tabloid instantly noticed her absence and hung back, Count calling out to her with a concerned look on his face. "Hey, you coming, Trigger?"

"You guys go on ahead. I'm not hungry," Naomi said, hoping he would leave it alone and go. Even she didn't buy it, she didn't want them to wait on her and she knew she wouldn't be much fun to be around. Although she probably should have eaten something, she honestly didn't feel like it.

Count looked like he wanted to say something, and Tabloid did too, both of them looking between her and her father like they expected him to do something about it. Before Count could say something and try to convince her to go, Tabloid grabbed his arm and cut him off. "Hey, c'mon. Let's just leave it alone."

"Alright, fine…" Count responded, looking back at Naomi. He looked both concerned and annoyed, but he finally turned away to follow after the others, calling over his shoulder as he went, "Your stubbornness is gonna be the death of you, Trigger."

"I'll grab something later. Stop being so dramatic," Naomi retorted, and he grumbled in response before they both let it go. Her heart just wasn't in bantering with him like usual. Their concern was touching but she just didn't feel like eating. She looked back to her father, Beckett, and Long Caster, about to offer herself up to help them with any work that needed to be done, but she was met instead by an almost disappointed look from her father and nervous ones from Beckett and Long Caster. She hesitated. "What? Why do you three look so worried?"

"Naomi…" her father started with a frustrated sigh.

Naomi knew exactly where it was about to go and she cut him off before he could continue. "There's still work that needs to be done, so let me help. It wouldn't be the first time I've missed eating and it's not gonna be the last," she said, honestly annoyed by everyone treating her like she was trying to kill herself or something. Really all she wanted was a distraction. "I'm just not hungry."

"Then go and lie down. If you won't eat then you need to sleep," her father said, almost huffing in annoyance.

"But –"

"Look, I hate to interfere, but your father's right," Beckett said, letting out an exasperated sigh. His expression and tone were suddenly stern. "You've done enough for one day, I'm not about to stick you with a job that isn't even yours. Now you can either eat or you can stay stuck in the crew room or your quarters, because you're not any good to anyone if you don't look after yourself."

"Y'know, this is all really dumb…I'm not a toddler," Naomi pointed out, glaring at her father. They didn't really give her much of a choice in the matter, and she wondered if they had prepared for this. The more she thought about it, though, the more she wanted to get some rest. She was tired, her brain was foggy, her muscles were sore…even if she could just be off her feet she'd probably feel better. She gave in, not that she really had any other option. "But alright. I'm gonna go lie down, then. If anything happens I'm getting right back in the air, though. You can't court martial me out here."

"I'll walk with you," her father said, almost looking smug that he'd won the 'fight'. "Gotta make sure you actually get some rest."

Naomi wasn't about to fight with him.

---

1930hrs.

Naomi didn't sleep as much as she had hoped. The entire afternoon had gone by and she hadn't gotten more than maybe an hour's worth of sleep, and it hadn't been all at once. She had rested her eyes but that was hardly worth anything. So she ended up just laying in her bed, as uncomfortable as it was, while her father sat on the floor beside the bed and kept her company. Mostly he'd been quiet to let her get some sleep, but they'd had the odd conversation here and there.

The gesture itself was something that her parents had made a habit of when she was much younger. If she had a nightmare one of them would sit by her bed until she fell asleep. When she was sick they would take shifts sitting with her through the night. Any emotional growing pains as she got older would see one of them sitting there for hours and talking to her, sometimes her sister even stepping up. She could remember it vividly, but it had been a long time since they'd sat with her like this. It was stupid, but having her father do it now was comforting.

She wasn't an introverted person. She wanted the company of other people even if she had her limits, but at that moment there were only a few people that she really wanted around. Although she'd been stubborn and hadn't wanted to admit it, laying down and just having her father sit with her was enough to help her feel better, even if it was just by a little bit.

He sat there, not really doing much. Occasionally he pulled out his phone and checked for some kind of signal, like he thought if he checked it enough he would magically be able to get in touch with their family, but he was disappointed each time. Naomi couldn't fault him for trying, though, even if it was a pointless ritual. He checked it about every thirty minutes or so, even though it was the same each and every time. As she lay there she watched him pull the phone out, having known he was going to do it just from what the clock on the wall read.

As expected, there was nothing. Only this time he didn't set the phone back down, instead he ended up going through old text messages. Ones between him and Naomi's mother, between him and Samantha, through the family group chat, even the few texts he got from Roland or Alvin. He ended up looking at a number of family photos that he had saved to his phone, too. Although they hadn't really gone out of their way to talk about it, she knew he missed her mother and sister and niece and nephew…and she felt like she'd stolen him from them somehow, having him out here supporting her all this time.

Unable to take the silence and not interested in getting lost in her own thoughts, she abruptly asked him, "Do you think they're okay?"

"Hmm?" He had been caught off guard, but all Naomi had to do was nod towards his phone and he caught on. "Oh…right." There was some hesitancy in his voice, but he swallowed it, trying to seem nonchalant. "They're fine. I wouldn't have left them if I thought they needed me there. And it's not like they're in harm's way."

"Roland probably is." Naomi hadn't thought about it much, but he had moved to Usea. He was in one of the Usean IUN branches these days, though she'd never worked with him, and though she knew he was an experienced pilot that didn't mean he was invincible. Up until just then, she hadn't considered her brother could be a casualty in the war, but once the thought crept up on her she couldn't get it to go away. "Do you know if he was deployed to the front lines?"

"He wasn't supposed to be. Not exactly, anyways," her father answered, shutting off his phone and setting it down. "Doesn't mean the front lines didn't come to him. But he'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Well, according to him he's no Mobius One," Naomi said, half-joking as she rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. Everyone maintained that he wasn't, but she stopped buying that a long time ago. She'd probably never be able to get them to confess just by asking, but if she really wanted to she had a perfect card to guilt trip them with now. Especially after their last secret came out. She took a deep breath. "I know it's stupid to worry about them, it's just…I miss them."

"I know you do. I do too," he replied, and he leaned his head against the side of the cot. As complicated as she had realized her family was, she never doubted they cared about her or each other. He may not have shown it, but it was probably killing him to be separated from them like this. The fact he couldn't even talk to them probably just made it that much more painful. He turned his head towards her and she looked down to see him giving her a small, sad smile. "We'll be home before you know it if you manage to keep it up."

Naomi looked away from him, back up at the ceiling. There wasn't much else to look at. She was quiet for a minute or two, fidgeting with her hands. Then she asked, "Do you think I've been doing the right thing?"

He didn't answer right away. For a minute she wondered if he was trying to find some way to spare her feelings, but when he spoke there wasn't any sort of hesitancy or doubt in his words. "I think you've been doing the best thing you can do to look out for your people," he replied. "And so far I think that's been enough. You're one step closer to ending this war, at least. Sounds like the right thing to me."

"It doesn't feel like enough," Naomi admitted. She clasped her hands together and began to dig her nails into the backs of her hands, trying to find some way not to start crying for no reason.

"You've done what you're able to," he told her, matter-of-factly. He paused, then added, "And for what it's worth, I'm proud of you.

It wasn't the first time she'd heard those words, but they always came at the right moment. Even if she didn't think she deserved them. "Thanks."

"I'd be prouder if you'd start taking care of yourself more," he said, trying to sound serious. He broke and lightly chuckled when she reached down and lightly smacked the back of his head.

A light knock at the door interrupted their conversation, and Naomi called for whoever was on the other side to come in as she sat up and moved to the edge of her cot. The handle on the door was pushed down with a click and pushed open, and Count stepped into the room. He still looked tired and almost concerned, but not quite as depressed as he had been the last time she saw him. The expression suddenly became an awkward, maybe even nervous one as he noticed her father sitting on the floor. He actually almost looked guilty, like he felt bad for interrupting.

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, his other hand still on the door handle. "Er, sorry, I'm not barging in on your family time am I?"

"No, not really. We're not really talking about much," Naomi said, for some reason actually glad to see him. He was one of the other people that she didn't mind having around at that moment. She tilted her head to the side, trying to keep down her concern after he showed up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. You just never showed up at the mess, so…" Count hesitated, clearing his throat and apparently trying not to look so flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, then seemed to get himself together for the most part. "I just came to check in, I guess. I was just…well, worried about you after Mr. X and all that. You seemed pretty shaken up still. But if this is a bad time –"

Naomi was about to respond, but her father pulled himself to his feet with a grunt, stretched out, and then headed towards the door. "Actually, speaking of the mess hall, I'm gonna see if I can't grab a snack or something," he said, able to find a convenient reason to excuse himself. She guessed he probably needed a minute on his own and some fresh air anyways. As he reached the doorway, Count stepped aside and he gave her wingman a light pat on his shoulder. "I'll let you two talk."

"Goodnight, love you," Naomi called to her father as he stepped out, figuring he'd probably turn in after he ate, and he replied the same before he shut the door. It closed with a thud and a click and left her and Count alone. She got up and moved to where her father had been sitting on the floor, gesturing for Count to come and sit beside her. Although he seemed a bit awkward and hesitant to do so, he eventually crossed the room and sat down beside her. Naomi tilted her head to one side, breaking the silence between them. "So, how're you holding up after the fight? I never got a chance to check on you."

"I'm fine, I guess. The bastard got what was coming to him," Count replied, leaning his head back and resting his arms over his knees. The nervousness in his voice was gone, replaced instead by bitterness. "I hate it, but I kinda wish he was dead, y'know? It just doesn't seem fair."

"Yeah, you're right. It doesn't," Naomi said. She'd been thinking the same thing, more or less. Wiseman, Brownie, and Champ were all gone, and the person that killed them all was still alive and kicking. Though to be fair, the fact he couldn't fly anymore was probably close enough to death for him. Still, it didn't feel like the same thing. "But the worst part for me is that I dunno if I actually want him dead or if I want him to suffer like this. I mean, he can't fly. That's its own kind of hell, but…"

"But he's still not gonna be answering to anyone for what he did," Count said with a sigh. He was staring at his hands for a while, picking at the band of his watch. When he spoke up again, he sounded a lot like he had the night they'd lost Wiseman. Like he was barely keeping it together. "Did you feel…I don't know, cheated or something. Not that he survived but just that taking him down didn't fix everything."

"I did, actually." Naomi let out a dry chuckle, looking away from him. Mainly because she wasn't sure she was going to do as good a job keeping it together, and he was the last person she wanted to see her cry. "It's like I thought it was gonna bring them back…it's stupid. I mean I have no clue what I was expecting…I kinda thought shooting him down and finally keeping all of you safe was going to do something. Bring some closure, I guess. Then I thought talking to him like he wanted would do that, but it didn't."

"What did he talk to you about anyway?" Count's voice was soft when he asked her, and she looked over at him, surprised he was asking. She gave them a summary, avoiding any details because it just wasn't something she wanted to burden them with. But apparently he figured out she was holding back. He looked away from her, almost sheepish, and scoffed. "C'mon, Trigger, I can read you like a book. He said something to get under your skin, didn't he?"

Naomi hesitated, then sighed. He found her out and she didn't want to lie to him. "I don't know what he was trying to do. He said I was a special kind of ace, gave me some half-assed apology because he felt bad, said he wanted me to fix his mistakes with the drones…just a bunch of BS, really," she said, letting out another dry laugh. "He actually implied I'm a better pilot than him, so that's something."

"Wow, praise from your worst enemy. That's gotta feel good," Count said with another scoff, and Naomi cracked a genuine smile that time. He added, "Y'know, if you're the better pilot and you took him down…guess the King of the Skies title oughta be yours, huh?"

"I don't think winning one dogfight makes me the King of the Skies," Naomi remarked, taken aback by the fact that he didn't sound like he was joking when he'd said that. She had to admit, it had a nice ring to it, but it was a lot to live up to. "I mean it's badass, but I've got to earn it."

"You kidding? You've done more than enough to earn it," Count argued. She felt her heart start racing, and she figured she should be used to him starting to compliment her now but it still felt weird. There was a time he barely had anything nice to say to her and they were at each other's throats, but now things were starting to change. And it wasn't so bad. As if he could tell the conversation was getting too touchy, he smirked and decided it was time to ruin the moment. "Of course, if you don't want it I'll happily take up the title. Someone's gotta step up around here, and if it isn't gonna be the oh-so-mighty Three Strikes then it may as well be the next best thing, right?"

"Hey, back off, you already have a title!" Naomi tried to sound angry, smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand, but she couldn't keep from laughing. That seemed to be his goal.

"And you already got a promotion. It's my turn," he retorted.

"Fine, take it. And you can have my post while you're at it," Naomi said, moving like she was going to rip the Strider Squadron patch off of her flight suit. "Have fun with your lifetime of paperwork and tough decisions, Sir Count."

"Er…okay, okay, you've made your point," he said, chuckling slightly as he held his hands up in defeat. "I'll pass, thanks."

She gave a snort in response to her victory, then she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. The fake, childish little fight having only briefly made her forget what they'd been talking about. A couple of minutes went by in silence before Naomi thought of what she wanted to say. "I'm not the King of the Skies, though. Or I shouldn't be 'better' than him. If I was better he'd be dead…and I couldn't kill him."

"Hey, forget about that," Count said, jabbing her head with his shoulder to get her attention. "You still took him down, dumbass. That's good enough for me." He took a deep breath, slowly blowing it back out before it continued. "Besides, I guess it just goes to show you that only the good die young."

"What does that say about us then?" Naomi said, holding back the urge to scoff. "Pretty sure we should be dead about ten times over."

"I have no idea. I gave up on pretending to be a saint a while ago, so I guess we'll live forever at this rate," Count answered with a short laugh, leaning his head against hers. "There are probably worse people I could be stuck with." Once again, he had to make a joke before she caught on that he wasn't as prickly as he acted all the time. "And that's saying something."

"You're one to talk, asshole," Naomi said, as playfully as she could manage, though her eyes were starting to feel heavy again and there wasn't as much energy as she'd meant to speak with.

"Yeah, I know. But you love me," Count said, shrugging her off his shoulder. The comment was enough to distract her from the fact he was standing up to leave, and as soon as he had gotten to his feet she hopped up as well. He cleared his throat, heading for the door. "Anyway, I should head out. You need to get some sleep and you're not gonna be able to do that if I'm here bugging you."

Naomi wasn't sure what possessed her to do what she did next, maybe whatever gave her the nerve to grab his hand after they first arrived at Tyler Island, but she reached out and grabbed his forearm to keep him from leaving. "Count, wait," she said, and when he did she wasn't sure what to say next. But she wasn't ever good at chickening out, so she didn't back down. Taking a deep breath, she asked him, "Could you…stay? You're not bugging me and I don't really want to be on my own…"

He hesitated and she was too scared to look up at him to see what might have been running through his head, so at first she was expecting him to reject her. Especially when he pulled his arm back. For a minute she wondered if she'd been too bold or inappropriate somehow, but he simply answered, "Okay."

Without another word, he took a few steps back to where they'd been sitting and lowered himself back down to the floor. Naomi took a few moments to process that he wasn't leaving before she returned to her own spot, Count holding out his arm as a silent invitation for her to move closer to him. So she leaned herself against him, using his chest as a pillow and resting her arm over his abdomen while he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her as close to him as they could manage.

Although sleeping on the floor, more or less sitting up, wasn't exactly the ideal sleeping position, Naomi had spent an entire night upright in a chair and using his shoulder as a pillow before. And she had drifted off just fine then. Count had this weird effect where he could scare her senseless and get her heart racing and also feel comforting just from being near her. She wasn't about to spend too much time thinking about why, though. So it didn't really matter how unusual the sleeping arrangement was. Not to her, anyways.

Focusing on the sound of his heartbeat and breathing, she finally gave in to sleep.

---

Author's Note: Okay! Well, I wanted to get at least one chapter out before Thanksgiving or at the very least before the month was out and I managed to meet that deadline, so small victory I suppose.

Second, I had hoped this chapter would be out sooner and I apologize for vanishing for over a month. There was a pretty sudden and severe family emergency (the aftermath of which is still taking up a lot of my free time) so I had to devote my time and energy to that. It's been a lot, that's for sure, and it is still a lot but things are slowly improving. So hopefully I can still find the time to work on this.

As for the chapter itself...uh...well, it's certainly a chapter. The only scenes I knew for sure were going to be in this chapter were the conversation with Mihaly and Naomi and the last scene. And the only one I'm happy with is the conversation with Mihaly. I've been fighting with this one so much that I hate everything but that scene and I have a complicated relationship with the last one, but it conveys what I want it to...so it stays. And it is absolutely going on my lovely list of chapters that I am going to be stripping and rewriting as soon as Three Strikes is finished.

Anyways, enough of my rambling.
Happy (early) Thanksgiving to those that celebrate it, and to all of you I hope to have more chapters out for December (also how is this year almost over it was literally June yesterday)!
Hope y'all enjoy!