Riley took one last sip of coffee before the cup was empty. He still felt like he was one blink away from falling back to sleep at his desk, but he didn't let that stop him. The Data Swallow icon briefly flashed onto his screen before the computer powered up. As soon as he read the barrage of information popping up in quick succession, though, he had half a mind to turn it right back off. What caught his eye above the rest of it was a notification that he had over 50 chat messages waiting for him- all sent within the last 24 hours. Riley knew exactly who they were from, and to a degree, what they said. He didn't have the heart to open them, though. How could he? The thought alone of writing a response made his heart pound.

Fortunately, his saving grace came in the form of Violet appearing on his screen from outside his door. "Hey, Clarkson wants all of us at the briefing room- said he wanted to start coming up with a plan," she reported.

Riley let out a relieved sigh as he hid the notification he dreaded so much. "Alright, gimme just a second. We can go together."

A few moments later, he had on his flight suit and vest that he'd haphazardly thrown into the corner of his room the previous night. Violet sat leaned up against the wall as he stepped out, giving him a small nod before the two set off.

"Clarkson give some kind of indication that he had any ideas" Riley asked as they walked, breaking the awkward silence between them.

Violet shook her head. "Nope- opposite, as a matter of fact. He seemed to be at as much of a loss as we are. It didn't instill me with all that much confidence, to be honest."

"Hey, we've got this," Riley assured her. He still wasn't entirely confident in his ability to reassure others- especially when he wasn't all that confident either, but after getting all three of his wingmen to keep going last night, he felt at least somewhat better about it.

"I hope so," Violet replied with a heavy sigh. "I'm at least feeling better about our chances than I was last night, but that's also not saying much."

The two of them stepped through the door to the briefing room to see Clarkson, Griffin, and Maya already waiting for them. "Good, we've got everyone. I see Riley was able to convince you all to keep fighting," Clarkson said, looking around at the four pilots.

"Well, we can't just give up," Maya pointed out. "As long as the others are with me, I'll do all the fighting that I can."

"And as long as I don't die first, I'll be right there, too," Griffin added.

Clarkson was beaming as he lowered the screen in the front of the room. "Wonderful! I have full confidence that you four will pull Usea back from the brink. Now all we need is a plan to do just that." He turned to his computer and signed in, booting up the briefing software and displaying a map of the whole continent. "Thoughts, everyone?"

"Well, one thing is clear, I think: we can't survive another head-on attack like the one from yesterday," Riley pointed out. "If whoever is controlling these planes decided to attack us again, we wouldn't stand a chance, so I think we should… do something to help shore up our defenses."

"I saw in the news the other week that General was getting ready to roll out some new ground-based laser defense system. Maybe we could look for those?" Griffin suggested.

"I doubt we'd be very successful," Violet replied. "The most likely place it'd be would probably be Port Edwards- which would probably have just as many planes guarding it as Expo City. In fact, maybe we could look into some kind of way to monitor where all these planes are, like a satellite or advanced radar."

"Actually, we do have a way of tracking them. Granted, it's not nearly as advanced," Clarkson said, turning back to his computer and pulling up several low quality videos on the screen. "Civilians across the continent are posting their sightings across social media, and because of this we learned something interesting: For most of the day, the planes were indeed congregating around major population centers- mostly Expo City and Port Edwards- but later on, the COFFIN aircraft seemed to vanish. Nobody saw any of them until about an hour ago, where they continued their wanton destruction."

"So where did they go, then?" Maya asked.

"Most of the last sightings we got from last night all seemed to indicate that they were all withdrawing to… somewhere on the Northern coast. That's about as much as we know," Clarkson replied.

Riley stared long and hard at the map, thinking until an idea finally popped into his head. "Wherever they're going. It must be to refuel and rearm," he suggested. "I mean… they've gotta be staying up somehow."

Clarkson's eyes lit up. "That's it! The AAA plant!" He spun back around to his computer once more and began typing like crazy.

"AAA plant?" Griffin echoed. "The hell is that?"

"The Advanced Automated Aviation Plant," Clarkson replied, still staring at his screen. "It's a completely autonomous factory that manufactures and maintains aircraft. If these planes are all being controlled remotely, then that's the only place they could've gone to refuel. It's build about halfway between White Valley and Snider's Top," he explained, marking it on the map.

"Ok, so we know where they are. That's good. If we destroy that factory, then it turns into a war of attrition," Violet chimed in.

"If it's that important, then surely it's gotta be pretty heavily defended," Riley replied. "Even if we didn't get intercepted on the way there, it'd be taking the word 'outnumbered' to an entirely new level."

Clarkson nodded. "Riley's right. We don't have the numbers or the firepower to make a strike like that- not yet, anyway."

"What if we work to change that?" Maya suggested. "Maybe we could look for some better planes to fly."

"Yeah, I'm with Maya here," Griffin agreed. "These Typhoons are only gonna get us so far against Berkuts and Super Flankers."

"Agreed, but I'm sure we don't exactly have many options. HOTAS aircraft have been obsolete for the last decade. That probably narrows our options down quite a bit," Riley pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Clarkson said. "This is where I can finally prove to be of some use." He displayed a series of documents on the screen. A few years ago, I signed some legislation to put some of our newer-generation HOTAS aircraft into storage as opposed to being mothballed. They were put into storage in the airfield at the Stonehenge Memorial Site. With a bit of luck, they should still be there."

"What kind of planes are we talking, here?" Griffin asked.

Clarkson smirked. "Before COFFIN technology came along, they were probably the best fighters UPEO had in service: The ADF-01 Falken." He brought a picture of it on screen, with an arrow coming from the deserts in Central Usea.

Riley looked at the picture with a raised brow. "That sure looks like a COFFIN aircraft to me."

"It was the precursor to COFFIN tech. It has an enclosed canopy with small cameras on the outside, allowing the pilot a greater field of vision," Clarkson explained. "Originally, the Falken had a… well, peculiar control scheme, but when South Osean Aeronautics and Research put them into mass production in '26 they adapted them to standard HOTAS controls."

"So, we know the 'where' and the 'what.' Now we just need to figure out how we're getting them," Violet said, staring intently at the map in front of them.

"Crazy as it sounds, our best bet might just be flying over there, landing, finding the planes, and taking off," Griffin suggested.

"Well, if you can get there fast enough, you might be able to get airborne before they even realize you're there," Clarkson pointed out, looking back up at the map. "There are COFFIN planes all over the continent, but aside from the ones attacking major population centers, there's no consistency. It's all random, from what I'm seeing."

"In other words, the success of this mission boils down to random chance?" Violet asked.

Clarkson nodded somberly. "Unfortunately, yes."

Riley shrugged and got to his feet. "Well, at least we'd be doing something. If these planes are even half as good as Clarkson says, we'll need them to put up any kind of serious fight."

"Might as well, then. Not like we're getting any younger here," Violet agreed.\

Griffin scoffed. "And if we're unlucky, we might not be getting any older, either."

"I have faith in all of you," Clarkson assured them. "You're all talented pilots and more than capable of getting this done. Good luck."

Together, the four pilots set off through the halls of the base. As they walked, they discussed the mission and their fears of it going wrong. This was uncharted territory for all of them- figuratively and literally. As they all climbed into the cockpits of their Typhoons, though, the fears and anxieties they shared seemed to vanish- or rather, they weren't spoken anymore. As Riley felt his canopy close around him, all he could see was yesterday's battle, watching Fauzer explode over and over again. He tried his best to get the picture out of his mind and began starting up the plane.

With a heavy breath in and out, he fastened his oxygen mask over his mouth. "Tower, this is Citadel 1, requesting takeoff clearance."

"Copy, 1. You're all good," The Tower replied. "Good luck out there."

Riley disengaged the brakes and his Typhoon began rolling forward. One by one, the others followed behind him, and before long, all four of them were sitting at the end of the runway. Riley grabbed the throttle, but he didn't push it forward. It was as if his body was begging him not to go back up there. In spite of that, though, he knew that this was the only way forward, so he swallowed as much of his fear as he could and gently slid it forward. Riley sank back into his seat as his plane picked up more and more speed. Once he was fast enough, he pulled back the stick and climbed into the sky. The others formed up on his wing, and they all turned in unison toward mainland Usea.

"Alright, we're approaching the airfield," Riley reported. He looked down at his radar. Thankfully, he and his squadron were the only ones showing up. Although, he couldn't quite tell which was going to be the hard part: getting to the airfield, or leaving it. He decided not to dwell on it. "Everybody ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Maya replied with a sigh.

"Maybe we'll get lucky, and there'll still be people there," Griffin suggested.

"No harm in asking, I guess," Riley said before switching to an open channel. "Attention, this is Citadel Squadron of the Universal Peace Enforcement Organization broadcasting to the Stonehenge Memorial Airfield. Does anyone copy?"

Silence.

"We are going to be landing in a moment. If there is anyone to receive this communication please let us know," Riley continued.

Nothing.

"Sounds like nobody's home," Violet observed.

"Looks like it, too," Maya pointed out as they passed over the airfield.

Pillars of smoke rose up from the deserts below, and the tarmac was littered with craters. Most of the buildings had collapsed in on themselves, including the main command building and the control tower. It looked as if there hadn't been a soul on this base in at least five years.

"Oh shit. We've got radar contacts," Griffin alerted everyone.

Riley looked down at his radar. 15 bandits were approaching from the Northeast. "They're pretty far out. If we hurry, we can still make it."

"No matter how fast we go, they'll still be over us by the time we get to the hangars," Maya insisted. "They've got us outnumbered almost four to one. We've gotta withdraw."

"We can go in pairs. With the others covering in the air so we don't get splashed on takeoff," Riley suggested. "We've come too far to go back empty-handed. If we want to put up a fight, we've gotta take some risks to get these planes."

Griffin sighed. "Can't say I like the sound of this, but let's do it."

Riley cut back on the throttle, bleeding speed as he looped around to come in for a landing. "Alright, Violet, you're with me. Griffin, Maya, keep us covered. We'll be as fast as we can."

Time seemed to be simultaneously moving at the speed of light and not at all. Riley's eyes flicked back and forth between the runway in front of him and his radar. The bandits were closing fast and he had yet to even touch down on the runway. He lowered his flaps, followed shortly after by his gears. Violet followed suit, and the two drifted closer and closer to the ground. Riley looked back at his radar as their wheels touched the ground. They only had a minute or two before the airspace would be swarming with hostiles, so as soon as they were off the runway, both pilots scrambled out of their typhoons.

"C'mon! The hangars are over here," Riley pointed as they ran. "They look like they're intact for the most part."

"I'd sure hope so!" Violet remarked. "If we come all this way just to find that the planes we need are trashed, I'll be one unhappy woman."

Both of them skidded to a stop as they burst through the man door, and sure enough, the hangar was loaded with planes. Typhoons, MiG-35s, Su-37s, Su-47s, Su-57s, and most importantly, the Falkens that they were here for.

"See if you can get the main door open. I'll see if these things still run," Riley ordered, already sprinting toward the nearest ADF-01. He practically leaped into the cockpit and stared down at the controls in front of him. "Okay, let's see here…" His hands drifted up and down the controls until he found the switches he was looking for. Bit by bit, the Falken came to life.

"Main door's open!" Violet called out as she began running to one of the other Falkens. "Now let's hurry this up!"

Finally, the displays in Riley's cockpit came to life. "Aha! Now let's see if I can't… here we go!" He switched on the radio and set himself on UPEO's frequency. "Alright. Citadel 1 here. I'm almost started. Three, Four, how are you guys looking up there?"

Griffin's initial response was a distressed grunt. "Well, they're certainly here and putting up a fight!" he reported. "I managed to bag one of 'em, but they've got Maya and I on the ropes. We could really use a hand here."

Riley closed the cockpit around him. Once it was sealed, the cameras came to life, giving him a clear view of the whole hangar. "Don't worry, we'll be there in just a minute. Violet, what's your status?"

"I'm good to go if you are," she reported. "Now let's see if these things are as good as Clarkson made them out to be."

Riley gripped the throttle and pushed it gently forward. "Let's go, then. We've got no time to waste."

Both Falkens slowly began to take their first steps out of the hangar in over a decade. The furball above them raged on as they taxied onto the closest runway. Moments later, the were both spewing out flames as they picked up more and more speed. Finally, they lifted up off the ground, and pulled up hard as they entered the fight.

"Citadel 1 and 2 are airborne," Riley reported. "Griffin, Maya, start breaking off and get ready to land. Violet and I will cover you."

Riley set his sights on a pair of Super Flankers closing in on Maya's tail. He looked down at his HUD, frowning upon realizing that it was only loaded with two STDMs. "Gotta make the most of 'em, I guess." The two Super Flankers had yet to notice him as he inched closer and closer into range. Finally, he got a solid tone and fired both missiles at the same time. The two bandits tried to get away, but it was already too late.

"Thanks, Riley!" Maya called out as she broke away and followed Griffin toward the runway.

"Well, I guess I'm left with guns now," Riley muttered to himself before pausing when he noticed something on his HUD. "Wait, what's this? TLS?" He brought it up and a small reticle appeared on the center of his display. Acting mostly out of curiosity now, he brought his nose around toward an Su-43 a few thousand meters away. Upon pulling the trigger, Riley nearly jumped in his seat as a beam of light shot forward from his plane. The Su-43 vanished from his radar, and before he had time to take aim at another bandit, it shut off.

"Riley, what the hell was that?" Violet asked as she rolled around a Berkut and gunned it down.

"Some kind of laser, I guess. TLS," he replied. "Takes a bit to recharge by the looks of it, so make the most of it while you can."

Riley watched as the same beam of blue light sped out from the nose of Violet's plane, shredding two bandits before it shut off. "Hot damn! I guess I see why Clarkson wanted these planes so bad."

"Heh, no kidding," Riley replied with a smirk. "Now let's finish the rest of these things off."

Riley turned hard to the left, and his plane sliced through the air with ease. Another Berkut tried diving on him from above, but Riley met them nose-to-nose, and he happened to be quicker on the trigger than his opponent. He pushed his Falken to full afterburners and put some distance between himself and the remaining bandits. He glanced down at the display for his TLS, and saw that it had finally recharged. He was just about to fire when two more lasers shot up from below, tearing through the last of the bandits like wet paper. Riley looked down and saw Griffin and Maya flying straight up from the runway before forming up on Riley's wing with Violet.

"Well, that was… awesome!" Griffin finally said. "These things put the Typhoons to shame."

"With these planes we might actually stand a chance," Violet murmured, speaking more to herself than anyone else.

Riley looked back down at his radar. "We've gotta make it back to base with 'em first. We've got more bandits coming in from the North. Let's hurry up and get outta here."

All four Falkens lit up their afterburners as they turned directly south. Eventually, the bandits gave up on their pursuit, leaving the four UPEO pilots the retreat unhindered with the planes that finally gave them a fighting chance.