Chapter Sixty-Three: Stillness
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Selatapura, Usea.
October 31st, 2019.
2200hrs.
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Naomi was used to functioning on a lack of sleep, but with the added emotions from the day piling onto her it left her infinitely more exhausted than she would have been. Every mess they'd been in since the blackout hadn't even exhausted her as much as this operation had.. She was pretty sure she probably looked like a zombie. That being said, she wasn't able to do anything more than sit there at her father's bedside, half asleep but still fully aware of everything going on around her.
The last few hours had been a blur. They'd explained her father's condition to the best of their ability, and she'd nodded along and worked it out in her head and tried not to make it obvious she was on the verge of bursting into tears. Apparently, when a drone had hit the ground and blown up several yards from where her father had been, it sent debris and shrapnel flying and her father was unlucky enough to be caught in range of it. He'd made it out without a spinal injury by some miracle, but he was working with a few crushed bones, a bleed in his brain from the TBI, a punctured lung from rib fractures, and shrapnel lodged in a few places. With the operating rooms and equipment left behind on the carrier and their limited training in surgery, they were able to fix the larger problems, but without any medical officers and surgeons on board they were hesitant to do anything more than stabilize him and work on his lung. But they said the fact he was still alive was a miracle and they were monitoring him around the clock.
They kept him in one of the precious few ICU rooms in the sick bay, and they let Naomi stay by his side when she'd asked. She had pulled up a chair to place by the bedside and leaned over to rest her head, burying her head in one of her arms as a makeshift pillow while she held on to her father's limp hand with her free one. The monitors hooked up displayed his heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and any other vitals they needed. At first any deviation from the steady rate they wanted him to maintain startled Naomi out of her sleep when an alarm would ring to alert them to it, but once she realized that nothing was spiking or dropping to ridiculous levels she didn't tense when she heard them. Part of her wished her sister was here to reassure her that no one was lying to her or sugarcoating anything, but the other half of her head was grateful none of her family had to be there.
She wondered what was going to happen from there. Once she could get in touch with them, how was she supposed to tell her family that he was going to come back injured? Or worse, in a casket. None of his injuries were going to immediately kill him from her understanding, but what if something happened during the night? Or tomorrow? What if they needed some kind of surgery or other procedure the combat medics or the carrier just couldn't supply? Naomi tried not to think about the worst case scenarios, trying to focus on the fact he was alive, but she couldn't help it. He hadn't even woken up yet. He hadn't moved. He was alive, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. None of them were.
Naomi was only just starting to drift out enough that she was almost resting when there was a light spike on the monitor. One she initially ignored, until she felt her father's fingers tighten around her hand and heard him move, followed by short, muffled coughs. Her head shot up in an instant, and she looked over to find him trying to get himself conscious again, eyes squeezed shut in pain. She gave his hand a squeeze, not sure if he was actually waking up or having some kind of a problem, and asked as best she could without sounding scared or small, "Dad?"
He managed to open his eyes a bit, tilting his head towards her. He turned his head back towards the ceiling and forced out a few pained coughs before he reached up with his free hand and shakily pawed off the oxygen mask they'd given him. He kept coughing, keeping his face contorted in pain every time he did, but eventually he managed to stop, suppressing it if it didn't stop on its own. He went quiet for a bit, swallowing, then turned his head back towards her and gave her a weak smile. "Hey."
"Hey," Naomi said softly, managing a small smile in return. The relief she felt was overwhelming, to the point she could have burst into tears right then and there, but she kept herself together. She sniffed, hoping he didn't notice her eyes tearing up. "How do you feel?"
"Like hell," he rasped out, his voice scratchy and a bit slurred. She hoped that was just the result of his sleepiness. He slowly took in the room around him, and looked at whatever else he was hooked up. Including the chest tube inserted in his side. He let out a breath, followed by a grunt of pain as he tried to inhale deeper. It was a challenge, but he managed to breathe it in and out. "I was going to say it feels like I've been hit by a bus, but…I'm guessing that's not too far from what happened."
"It was…something along those lines," Naomi told him, talking slowly, trying not to get too caught up in what she was saying. Thinking about what happened to him brought awful mental images to her head, and looking at him covered in bruises and scrapes didn't help any either. She took a breath. "Do you remember anything that happened?"
He thought about it, heaving a sigh. His breathing sounded like he was forcing himself through each one. After a short pause to pull himself together he said, "Not that much. I remember the drones falling and running and…" Suddenly he tried to straighten up, wincing with every movement and Naomi jumped to her feet to hold him down by his shoulder. It didn't take much effort to force him back to the pillow, since he was too weak to fight back. He fell helplessly back down, trying to steady the sharp and shallow breaths he'd been taking. He looked over at her, worry written all over his face. "Georg…and Bandog…and the others. Are they okay?"
Naomi sighed, trying not to let him see how stressed he'd made her by jumping up like that. She was pretty sure her poker face was pathetic, but she did her best. "They're all fine," she said. It had been a while since she'd seen them. Bandog and everyone else at least. She hadn't seen them since they'd come to check in. She had asked about Georg on her own, though, and apparently he was out like a light too. "Georg's leg is pretty messed up. They said they gave him something for the pain, but there isn't anything else they can do but let him rest."
Her father nodded, then took another breath. He closed his eyes, wincing like everything around him was hurting him. It probably was. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Did you win?"
Naomi exhaled through her nose, managing another small smile, and she nodded. "We won," she said. Then she hesitated. It was hard to forget the drones. She debated telling him or not, and eventually just smiled again and settled on, "The Arsenal Bird didn't stand a chance."
"I thought so." He smiled, too. But he must have picked up on something from her, since the smile faded and he opened his eyes to look up at her again. She glanced up at the monitors by now, then to the door at some conversation outside, trying to do anything but make eye contact. But it was clear she was restless, especially to him. "So, tell me what happened."
She blinked, too tired to think he was asking about anything other than the battle. "You mean with the Arsenal Bird or what happened to you –?"
"I mean what aren't you telling me," he said, and when she gave him a dumbfounded look he sounded almost irritated. "Your poker face is shit, kiddo, I can see through it in an instant. You can try and fool your wingmen – probably fail with them too, hell if I know – but you know better than to try it with me." Naomi felt a bit guilty. And stupid. It was true, she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it, but her brain and body were running on fumes. He swallowed. "So what's the matter?"
Naomi dropped back into the chair at the bedside, resting her arm on the bed and leaning her head into her hand. She couldn't just drop a bombshell on him. She could keep avoiding the topic, but that would just frustrate him, which she seriously doubted was going to help his condition any. And she was too tired to think of an excuse or explanation he'd accept. "It's just…a lot to deal with right now, that's all," she admitted with a sigh. "You're hurt, everyone's exhausted, the war isn't even over yet, and honestly I just don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."
He stared at her, almost like he was trying to read her mind. "We knew there was a chance it wouldn't be that easy," he pointed out. He leaned his head against his pillow again, closing his eyes as he spoke. "It's those ADF drones, isn't it? The…Ravens or Zone of…whatever the hell they called it?"
"We should have seen them coming, but…once we won the battle, I figured we'd got lucky," Naomi explained to him slowly, her eyes unfocusing as she stared at nothing in particular. She could remember it all perfectly and she hated it. She rubbed her hand against her forehead, trying to ease the growing headache from her lack of sleep. "They showed up out of nowhere. Went for me, ended up shooting at Count instead."
That made her father pause for a moment. And when he finally did say something, he sounded almost as concerned with Count as he was with her. "Is Count alright?"
"He's fine. Plane was trashed, though, so we landed…well, here," Naomi said, gesturing vaguely with her hand.
He opened one eye to look around. "We're on a carrier?"
"Yeah. The Admiral Andersen. Apparently it was hit or ran aground…or…something. But we needed a place to land and this was our best shot," Naomi told him. Really she didn't know what had happened to wind it up out here. Long Caster had told them it had run aground, but she'd heard from the people coming and going that it had been hit. Maybe it was both. "I guess they figured it was the best bet for medevacs, too. I think they brought just about everyone here."
Her father went quiet again, going back to resting. For a minute or two she thought he had fallen back asleep, but he broke the silence again. His voice was a lot lower than before, and he sounded almost…nervous. "Did they tell you how bad my injuries are?" He opened his eyes and glanced down at the chest tube, weakly gesturing with one hand. "I'm guessing from this that my lung isn't doing so good."
Naomi swallowed, trying to collect herself before she answered. She remembered what the medics had told her, but reciting it was a different story. "They said, that…um…that you…your ribs punctured a lung. So they had to fix that and…" She kept stumbling over the words, but she didn't want to risk crying. That would just worry him. So she forced herself to calm down and swallow the tightness in her throat and chest. "You have a bleed in your brain. A…subdural hematoma, I think? But…they said you were lucky." She took a shaky breath, looking down as she wrung her hands together in her lap. Her voice was starting to crack a bit, but she kept going. "No spinal injuries. They said they're gonna watch the bleed, though, because they aren't surgeons so they can't drain it…so…yeah."
"Right." He took in a few breaths of his own, also shaky. Though that might have had more to do with his pain than worrying about how close he'd come to death. She didn't know. The more she thought about it, though, the more she had to come to terms with the fact he could have died…the fact he almost did die. She'd almost lost her father, and he probably was used to brushes with death by now. What he wasn't used to – or at least something he didn't like – was seeing her as upset as she was, and she was doing a bad job keeping it together. And he noticed, letting out a nervous, pained chuckle. "Hey, hey, what are you crying for?"
Naomi sniffled, forcing out a laugh of her own. "Because you almost died? I think that's a pretty good reason."
"Well, I didn't. So stop worrying about it," he told her in an almost stern tone like he'd used before, but a lot softer. It wasn't a command, but she knew he would argue with her about it if she gave him the chance. And even though she knew better that's exactly what she did.
"I can't just not worry about you. How would you feel if you felt like you were the reason your parent died? Or almost died?" Naomi asked him, not annoyed with him as much as the situation, but she probably sounded mad at him. She knew he'd lost his parents and she knew how it had happened, so maybe it was a bit unfair…but he had no control over that situation. His parents weren't there because of him. He was there to support her. He was fighting to help pull his weight, to help end the war that she was stuck fighting. The drones went down because they had to defeat the Arsenal Bird. Because she wanted to take back the space elevator. "I mean…you've been in my position. You know the risks but that doesn't mean that you just accept that your family might die. If something had happened to me and you thought you could have prevented it you'd be just as upset as I am."
"Do you think I don't hold myself responsible for everything bad that's happened to you? The fact you've been singled out in this war over and over again by just about everyone?" her father asked her, keeping his voice steady and level. He sat up. "Look at me, Naomi." She complied, slowly lifting her head, finding him staring her down with the same look he'd give her during lectures or life lessons growing up. Serious and stern but just soft enough that she never worried he was going to blow up at her. "I'm alive. I'm in pain, but I'm alive. And there isn't a single thing you could have done differently. I'd have still come to help you, I'd have still volunteered, I'd have still chosen to fight and help Georg, and I still would have gotten hurt."
She opened her mouth to protest, trying to find some reason to take on the responsibility. She felt like she had to. "But –"
"None of this is your fault, kiddo. You did the best you could to keep everyone safe, including me," he told her, slowly lowering himself back down to his pillow. "You tried as hard as you could. I think you've done more than enough without trying to pin every bad thing on yourself. So knock it off."
Naomi considered arguing more, she even started to open her mouth, ready to blurt out the first thing she could think of, but the sound of the heavy door squeaking cut her off. She turned to see one of the army medics stepping through the door. It was the same corporal she'd lost her temper with, but after some profuse apologizing once he explained her father's condition he told her not to worry about it. There weren't any hard feelings, but she still felt guilty about it. If things were better she'd probably try to find some way to make it up to him, but she wasn't exactly in any position to go recommending him for promotions or something. She barely knew him.
The corporal seemed a bit nervous still, keeping his voice low as he started to call her name, until he noticed her father was awake. "Major Fou– oh! I didn't know he woke up, you should have told me," he said, putting on a smile and heading towards the bed. Naomi got up and slid the chair away from the bedside, getting out of his way. Her father tried to get up as the medic approached, but he motioned for him to stay down, his attention now completely on her father. "Take it easy, Mr. Foulke, I'm not anyone worth getting up for. How are you feeling?"
"Like I've got a hell of a hangover," her father joked with a tired smile, and Naomi tried not to roll her eyes. At least his sense of humor made it out unscathed.
"Well, that should be expected. The human body wasn't made to be put through that kind of stuff," the corporal said with a bit of a smile. "So, I take it your head hurts. And you're slurring a little. How about any nausea, dizziness, weakness?"
"Uh…a bit, but only when I try to move. Haven't tried standing up yet, either," her father explained to him. "Hurts to breathe, feels tight, and kinda like I've been stabbed, too."
"That should be expected…but we'll keep an eye on things," the corporal told him. "Normally you'd have been handed over to a doctor by now, but we're still working on that. We've got a few army doctors back in Selatapura, but they had their hands full, so until we can get them over here you'll have to make do with us, sir."
"You haven't killed me yet," he said with a nervous laugh, cut off only by a coughing fit he tried to suppress.
"I'll see about getting you something for the pain. In the meantime, I'll get your vitals," the corporal said. He turned towards Naomi. "On that note, I heard from one of your wingmen that you're needed in the ready room, ma'am. They said it wasn't urgent, but I thought I'd let you know."
Naomi hesitated, glancing towards the cracked door. "I don't wanna keep them waiting, but…" she started, trailing off as she looked over at her father.
"I'm fine. I doubt I'm going anywhere any time soon," her father said, motioning towards the door. "Just go. Before I get up and kick you out myself."
"I'll look after him, ma'am. Try to keep him out of trouble," the corporal added, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Thank you," Naomi said, repaying him with a grateful smile of her own. With one last look towards her father, who motioned for her to leave with an exasperated look on his face, Naomi set off out of the sick bay.
Navigating it wasn't difficult after she'd already been through it getting in. The setup wasn't any different from a regular hospital floor, save for the exclusion of any windows and the halls being somewhat claustrophobic. That last part was unsettling to her, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. She retraced her steps at a brisk pace, though, keeping out of anyone's way and trying not to give in to her curiosity too much as she passed by open rooms, trying to give the other soldiers stuck there what limited privacy she could. Compared to earlier, not long after they'd gotten her father settled in, it was a lot quieter. She hadn't roamed around once she'd been allowed into the ICU room with him, but it had been loud when she'd been out there.
Once she was out of sick bay it was a matter of finding her way to the ready room, which wasn't as difficult as she expected. She had absolutely no idea where she was going, but her renowned luck seemed to be shining down on her, since her first guess was right. She had the choice of going up or down, and she was pretty sure the answer was 'up', but given her limited familiarity with modern carriers that was a bit of a gamble. She'd heard her brother and brother-in-law complain about navigating carriers before, and her sister telling them they were both being dramatic, so she was going off the mental map their stories had given her. She really was just lucky she got it right.
The ship was mostly deserted, save for the coalition soldiers that had commandeered the place. Only a few soldiers from the Osean army were walking about, accompanied by maybe a handful of IUN soldiers, and almost none of the few people she saw on the way over were Erusean. Even with the Conservative faction on their side and several units coming to the Admiral Andersen to regroup, it seemed that the Oseans and Eruseans were still giving each other a cautious distance. She doubted things like that mattered anymore, especially since they were all in the same fight for the same future, but boundaries like that were still hard to break down.
When she finally found her way to the ready room and pushed the door open, she was met by mostly familiar faces. Everyone was quietly conversing among themselves, with the rest of Strider Squadron all sitting together at the front of the room, with Cyclops Squadron just across from them. Avril and Bandog sat among them, though Naomi noticed Sarge was nowhere to be seen among any of them. She might have been worried if she wasn't sure that nothing bad had happened to her given how minor her injuries looked as well as the fact that Bandog probably wouldn't have looked as almost relaxed as he did if Sarge wasn't doing well. Golem and Mage Squadron were all present, being uncharacteristically quiet. About the only person not there was Long Caster. And to her surprise she spotted the two Sol Squadron pilots sitting in the back, keeping quiet and out of everyone's way. They were the first ones to notice her step in.
For a minute, Naomi stood in the doorway awkwardly, not sure what to say to them. The rest of her allies took notice of her a moment later, the conversations dying off as they all turned to look at her with mixed looks of sympathy and surprise. She didn't know what else to say, so she just gave them all a small smile and quietly greeted them with, "Hey. Sorry, it took me a minute to get up here."
"Don't worry about it, Trigger. We weren't in any rush," Jaeger said, giving her an understanding look and a reassuring smile. "I'm just glad to see you're still on your feet."
Naomi nodded and stepped inside, cracking the door behind her as she made her way down the aisle between the seats, painfully aware of everyone watching her as she walked. Count got to his feet when she reached the seats Strider Squadron was occupying, putting a hand on her shoulder as he checked her over. "Hey. How're you doing?"
"I'm fine, I think," she answered, grateful for everyone's concern even though she didn't want them to be worried about her. "Just been a long night."
"How's your dad?" Count asked, taking a step away to let her sit down.
"He's awake and talking fine. They said he was pretty lucky, but they're gonna keep watching him," Naomi said, speaking loud enough so the others could hear. That seemed to set everyone at ease, since the atmosphere in the room immediately lifted once she told them that. She couldn't blame them. None was as relieved as she was that he was doing okay and probably none of them were as worried as she was about him either. Still, she didn't want to stay on that topic, too tired and drained to run through everything again. "So, how did things with those drones go?"
"That's what we're here to discuss, actually. Just waiting on you," Jaeger told her. "They're still flying and none of us were able to touch them. But once we withdrew from the space elevator, they seemed to lose all interest in us."
"No, they lost interest once they realized Three Strikes wasn't there anymore," Seymour corrected from the back of the room, sitting with his arms crossed and a resting expression that made him look pissed off at all of them. He didn't sound like it, though. When Naomi looked back at him, he explained. "That shouldn't be a surprise, really. You're their priority target, just like you were to Mihaly. Only difference is these guys aren't capable of any mercy."
Knocker grunted, almost like he was about to disagree, but he held back. "Yeah, well, they may not have been as interested but they absolutely were still on our asses. They just didn't pursue us."
"Have you spoken to Dr. Schroeder about this?" Wit asked. He sat with his legs crossed, looking and sounding far more polite in comparison to Seymour. "He'd probably be able to explain their actions in more depth than we could. All we can do is guess based on what we know about Mihaly, but…"
"But we're essentially fighting Mr. X on steroids. And without emotions," Húxiān said with a frustrated huff. "And everything he did was with emotions and mercy and whatever else. I know we got a glimpse, but I don't wanna see what they're fully capable of."
"None of us do. We're working right now to get a video communication set up with Dr. Schroeder and Long Caster," Jaeger explained to them quickly, trying to stop any arguments before they escalated. He gestured to the screen behind him. "We were having a bit of trouble clearing up the signal, but right now they're back at the support facility trying to monitor the drones. They'll get us the information we need."
"We're just lucky the only losses we took were material," Fencer said with a tired sigh.
Naomi looked over at him, looking each one of the pilots over. "Who's out of commission?"
"As far as Cyclops is concerned? Me, Lanza, and Skald. Tabloid's plane is still doing alright, though," Fencer replied. "Dunno about the others." He nodded towards Avril, giving her a small smile. "I'd ask the Scrap Queen about the extent of it, though."
Everyone looked to her and she shifted a bit in her seat, glancing at Tabloid and then Naomi before she answered, crossing her arms. "I went over everyone's aircraft. So far, Count, most of Cyclops, Faun, Kathryn, and Hans," Avril said. "I could make repairs to them, no problem. But I don't know who's been cleared to fly by the med guys and who hasn't."
"We can go over that later. In the meantime, you know for certain you can get 'em in the air if they are cleared?" Clown asked, and Naomi remembered he hadn't been around her enough to know just how good her skills were.
"If she could keep the trash cans we had in the penal unit flying, she can get our birds now in the air," Count said with a small smirk. Usually he and Avril didn't show off their confidence in the other, but it was hard for them all to have history in Spare Squadron and not at least be willing to vouch for them. Even if they weren't exactly close friends.
"He's right. If there's anyone that can handle the job, it's her," Naomi said. She looked over at where Avril sat, looking a bit shocked by their support. She really didn't like that much attention being put on her, and Naomi knew this. There was just one concern. "But are you gonna feel up to that?"
Avril blinked, then put on a confident smirk of her own, brushing off her concern. "Relax. It's nothing I haven't handled before," she said. "If you need it, I'll get it done. I guarantee it."
"I can help out, too, if you need an extra set of hands," Tabloid offered out of nowhere, even looking a bit embarrassed after he got a couple of raised eyebrows. He chuckled, wiping it away in an instant. "Might ease the load a bit if you guys are willing to trust me."
"I think I'll take my chances with the damaged plane," Lanza joked with a tired chuckle. "I think my odds would be better that way."
"Well, that's one problem out of the way," Jaeger said. He looked at Naomi. "What do you say, Trigger? We'll do whatever you say."
"Uh…" Naomi hesitated, caught off guard. She was too tired to do much of anything, barely staying awake as it was but too on edge to rest very well. But they weren't going to act without any kind of word from her. She had to think fast, whether her brain wanted to or not. "I guess we'll wait for word from Long Caster and that…Schroeder guy. And until we hear back from them we try and get some rest. Sound good?"
Everyone mumbled off their own words of agreement and Jaeger nodded. "Alright. It's settled then. Everyone settle in where you can. We're looking at a long night and an early morning."
Naomi felt bad for that but she knew it couldn't really be helped that much. They had to make do with the hand that they were dealt and that's what they had to work with. Once the war was over she'd sleep the rest of the year away if she could. At the very least give everyone a nice, long vacation. After everything they'd been doing and especially now having to be ready to jump back into the air with barely any sleep they deserved it. They probably deserved at least a half a dozen medals by now, too.
She sighed, getting to her feet, ready to head back towards the sick bay to sit with her father for the rest of the night. She was stopped by Count, giving her a concerned and curious look. He'd been looking at her like that since they'd gotten back, not that she could blame him after breaking down on him like she had. "Hey, where're you off to?"
"Back to sick bay, probably. I don't have anywhere else to go," Naomi said, not really giving it much thought. She wouldn't rest very well but she'd rather sleep in a chair and ruin her back than be down in the crew quarters if something happened. That and the ICU room was a lot less cramped and terrifying to her than the sleeping quarters on a ship, but she didn't want to get into that.
"You should get some rest," Count said with an almost frustrated sigh. "You're not gonna be able to do anything else for him."
"I don't want him to be alone if something happens. I should be there," Naomi argued. Actually, the irrational part of her brain told her that if she was there then nothing was going to happen. She wasn't any kind of medical professional, she'd probably just be getting in the way, but she wanted to be there. Being away, even for this, made her anxious. "I'm not gonna just leave him there alone."
As Count opened his mouth to argue, Kathryn stepped in. "Hey, Count's right. Your father would just tell you the same thing. You need sleep and you're not gonna get it in sick bay," she pointed out. "There's people checking on him around the clock. And if it makes you feel any better I can go down and sit with him for a bit. Only if you're okay with it."
Naomi considered it, but judging from the look they were giving her they wouldn't give her much of a choice. She thought about it, wondering how she could fight her way around it, but she decided to give in. If not for herself then to make them feel better. "Alright. Just…call me if anything happens."
"Don't worry, we will," Hans told her with a small smile before he and Kathryn set off in Naomi's place.
Naomi sighed, watching them leave, wondering how on earth she was going to find somewhere to sleep. At least if she'd gone back to sick bay she would have known where she was going. Now she had to navigate more parts of the ship. Defeated, she dropped back into her seat in the ready room as everyone dispersed, leaving her only with Count. She buried her face in her hands, trying not to look up at him.
He stood there in silence, though she could tell he was watching her. Eventually she lifted her head up enough to stare at his feet, then slowly lifted her eyes to look him in the face. She gave a dry laugh and blew out through her nose as she simply told him, "I'm tired."
"I know you are, Trig." He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder and she reached up to grab the top of his hand with hers. It made him pause for a minute, but then he gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "C'mon. Let's find you somewhere to sleep."
November 1st, 2019.
0030hrs.
After over an hour of tossing and turning in the cramped bunk she settled into, Naomi gave up on sleeping. She felt like she was locked up in a cage. A cage that could end up at the bottom of the ocean. After staring up at the ceiling and pipes less than two or three feet above her for a few minutes, she got tired of just lying there. So hopped down from the top bunk, zipped her flight suit and jacket back up, grabbed her boots and set off for the deck. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to go.
The sleeping quarters were nothing like the barracks back on an air force base, but they didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Even though the officer's quarters were roomier and private compared to the enlisted sleeping quarters it still wasn't a comfortable fit and it wasn't anywhere Naomi liked being. She'd been spoiled by the air force and she'd be the first to admit that. And after being stuck on this carrier for less than a few hours and getting tired of it, she swore she'd never complain about the OADF's barracks again.
Along the way things on the ship were quiet, but she knew not everyone was asleep. Once she stepped out onto the flight deck she was met by the same kind of silence, but there were still pilots and crew milling about, though she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Maybe a night patrol or maintenance or something, trying to make sure they were ready in case those drones came looking for a fight. But overhead the skies were clear of any aircraft. So far they were being left alone.
There wasn't a whole lot to look at up on the flight deck. The cloud cover was scattered, and you could only make out a few stars here and there. In one direction there was the faint glow of city lights in the distance and across from that was the barely visible shape of the space elevator. For the most part the only thing to really look at were the planes lined up on the deck and water as far as the eye could see. Not exactly the most scenic place, but she'd take it.
Naomi made her way along the flight deck pretty much unnoticed, making her way around the planes and out of anyone's way. She reached the all too familiar aircraft of Sol Squadron, parked alongside the Osean aircraft, and she had half expected that Wit and Seymour had been long gone or at the very least had turned in. But when she rounded the second aircraft she spotted the two of them talking at the edge of the deck with one of the makeshift maintenance crew members. Their conversation was wrapped up a second later as the soldier turned to run off, giving Naomi a surprised look and a courteous nod before he rushed off, leaving Wit and Seymour giving her curious, surprised looks of their own.
"I figured you'd have been asleep by now, Three Strikes," Wit said in some kind of a greeting, and not wanting to be rude Naomi approached them. They were both taller than her, Wit the tallest of the three, easily about as tall as Skald while Seymour only had a couple of inches on her. They could probably throw her overboard and she wouldn't stand a chance. But they were on the same side now, so she was trusting them not to do that. "What brings you all the way up here?"
"Nothing important. I just couldn't sleep," Naomi replied, not really sure what other excuse she could give them. She wasn't going to spill her guts to them or anything, but she could be civil and honest after they'd been willing to join up with all of them. Especially with her. She nodded towards their planes. "Everything alright with you two?"
"Just going over what needs to be done before we can fly," Seymour answered with a shrug. He gave her a small laugh as he added, "So as soon as we can refuel we'll be getting out of your hair."
Naomi felt a pang of annoyance and even disappointment at that. "You're not staying?"
"We are. To finish the fight at least, but we need to head back to the airfield the Conservatives set up outside the city," Wit explained, shooting Seymour an irritated look. "Sorry to disappoint, but we're not leaving for good. Regardless of how someone made it seem. Not until we put a stop to this." He looked back at her, his expression still blank. "We've been working on this project right alongside Mihaly. We know…at least some tricks that might help you. We've learned a lot since we've been with him. Arguably more than you."
"I'm not gonna deny that. I'm not his student, I'm not going to know how his brain works, let alone what some psycho A.I is thinking," Naomi said, crossing her arms. She tried not to sound harsh, but she probably came off that way. "But I still beat him, so don't underestimate me. He still taught me a few things."
"I know that. I'm…not underestimating you, I promise. I apologize if it came off that way," Wit told her quickly, his voice level. He sounded like he meant it, but it didn't sound like something he'd wanted to say. Like he was still having to learn to be pleasant. "I know better than to underestimate you, truly I do. You're an incredible pilot, otherwise Mihaly never would have wasted his time with you. But even a great pilot can't do everything on their own. Mihaly more or less proved that, didn't he?"
Naomi hesitated. She'd never had to comfort someone that used to be her enemy before, unless she counted the Princess, but she didn't know if she'd ever really comforted her that much. However, one was a girl a couple of years younger than her and Wit was a grown man, a soldier, and probably her age if not older. It was…weird to think about. But she'd have done it for anyone else currently under her command, so she swallowed her pride. "Look, there isn't anything you could have done for him. I wasn't willing to lose that day. I don't think I'd have let up until he was gone," she said hesitantly, trying to think before she spoke. "And I'd have done whatever I had to to make that happen. So…basically…don't beat yourself up."
Wit seemed at a loss for words, staring at her like he was still trying to process what she'd said. Seymour, however, looked between the two of them with concern before he narrowed his eyes on her, crossing his own arms and straightening up. "You've got a pretty big ego if you think you could have taken all of us on at the same time."
Naomi blinked, realizing that she hadn't come off the way she wanted, and she almost panicked. "Wait, no, that's not…I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly, now worried Wit was about to go off on her. It was her turn to be apologetic, though she felt a lot more awkward than Wit probably did. "I just meant that it isn't your fault that he got shot down…I don't think there's anything you could have done differently. I'm just not…great at fixing the problem when I caused the problem, I guess. I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. I didn't really take it that way." Wit finally pulled himself together, shaking it off and making no indication he'd been stunned for a moment. "Really, you're right. Mihaly was…well, is a very stubborn man. I don't think he'd have given us the choice to stay anyways. It was probably for the best, though. I think we all would have been evenly matched, so someone had to go down." He gave her the ghost of a smile. "I'm just glad we could put that behind us. For our sake, our allies', maybe even the world."
She gave him a small smile, but there was one question she couldn't help but ask. She knew why General Shilage had done what he did, and she knew why he'd have been willing to fight in her place if she'd been the one that lost. She knew why he was putting so much faith in her. But she hadn't heard their side of things. They were young and idealistic pilots, which had been exactly what the Radicals had been looking for and preying and banking on to win this, at least the way Labarthe told it. So why turn on the project? Unless they were just doing what General Shilage had done. She wanted to know.
"Hey, since you bring that up," Naomi said, her smile fading a bit. "Do you mind if I ask you guys something?"
Wit nodded. "What is it?"
"Why did you come to help us?" Naomi asked him. "You have every reason to come here and kill me and my men, but you fought alongside us. You're willing to do the same thing again. Why?"
The two of them didn't answer right away, spending a moment or two thinking it over before they broke the silence. It was Seymour that had an answer first, putting on the first smile she'd seen from him that looked like a genuine smile and not a smirk of some kind, and he looked at Wit. "Well, I'm not really the one to ask. Mihaly said we needed to find someone to guide us to the future we wanted, and I couldn't think of anyone better than Wit," he said. "So I followed his lead."
Wit gave him an almost grateful look, before he gave his own answer. "I want to restore my homeland, but I can't do that without a home to go back to. And if this war continues, it wouldn't just stop at conquering Osea," he told her. "Flying with Mihaly taught me that drone fighters don't belong in the blue. They have no place in the skies we fighter pilots call home. And if they're what's going to destroy our future, then – in Seymour's words at the time – they're what the Voslagian Air Force should be fighting against. I'm not stupid enough to fight the one ace left that stands a chance against them."
"You give me way too much credit," Naomi said, trying not to sound nervous. Everyone did. They treated her like she was a hero. She wasn't. She was just trying to survive and get her men home.
"I'm not the one that took down the King of the Skies. I'm also not the one that flew through an Arsenal Bird to take it down," Wit pointed out to her with a small smile. He started forward, moving past her, and Seymour moved to follow. But he paused only to give her a pat on the shoulder. "I look forward to seeing the end of this alongside you, Three Strikes, so don't disappoint us. We're fighting for a common cause, regardless of the past. We're fighting for the future."
Naomi turned and watched the two of them walk away, not sure what to say to that. She wanted to tell them not to put so much faith in her or maybe wish them good luck but she didn't have any idea what to say. It hurt putting aside her differences and fighting alongside them, especially knowing how many deaths their flight lead was responsible for, but she guessed it was probably the same for them. She'd killed just as many people. She was responsible for plenty of deaths. But they still were willing to trust and follow her from the sound of things. Maybe a 'thank you' would have worked, but she came up with nothing.
Right as she turned she noticed Count had approached at some point, completely quiet, and judging from the look on his face something told Naomi they probably left to give him some space. They nodded a greeting towards him and he returned the nod stiffly, managing to hide his scowl until their backs were to him. He didn't give them much attention after that, slowly taking a few steps towards Naomi as his expression softened a bit, but the look in his eyes was a curious one as opposed to the slightly annoyed look he'd had when the Sol pilots left. Certain she was about to get a lecture from him, Naomi let out a sigh and took a few steps to the side, turning out towards the ocean.
He closed the distance between them, moving to her side. She glanced over at him as he let out a heavy sigh. "What're you still doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Naomi pointed out, putting on a small smile. He gave her a look that told her she won, since he didn't have a better argument. She shrugged and gave him a real answer, though. "I just couldn't sleep. My brain's overloaded and I don't do well on ships anyways."
"What, you get seasick or something?" Count asked her, raising a brow.
"No, I'm actually just…kinda claustrophobic," Naomi admitted sheepishly, still embarrassed by it. "And the idea of being trapped in a tiny little room if a ship starts sinking doesn't really help that any. Kinda feels like a cage, I guess."
"Yeah, I get that," Count said. If anyone knew about actual cages, it would be him. He knew about the 444th and solitary and whatever else they'd been through. But to keep the topic from drifting there, he turned it around before it could get heavy. "But you know you're a fighter pilot, right? Being in a closed space is kind of your whole job."
"I can get out of a fighter jet. Besides, it's not the same," Naomi told him. He let out a quiet, curious hum. She lifted her head, trying to see what stars she could spot through the cloud cover, taking a deep breath of the sea breeze. "You should know that. In a plane I've got the whole open sky…it doesn't feel closed in. I'm in control and I can see everything. It's freeing, not stifling. I've never looked at a cockpit as a confined space or a cage, it's always been…I dunno, more like somewhere I'm comfortable. That probably sounds stupid, but it's how I feel."
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to watch for his reaction. He just watched her for a minute, with a look on his face that made her feel flustered. But he just let out a breathy chuckle and looked up at the sky as well. "Nah, I totally get it. Believe me, back in Spare Squadron the sky was the only place I didn't feel like a prisoner," he said with a huff. "I didn't sign up for it, but it's part of the reason I stuck with it. Now look where I am."
Naomi gave a slow nod. Truth is she didn't have some noble reason for signing up either but here she was. She couldn't really judge him for joining up for whatever reason he chose, whether he actually did it to serve or if he just did it for the hell of it. She glanced at him, having several questions she wanted to ask him about that and no idea how to bring them up. He gave her an opening but she didn't want to bombard him, so she went back to what first kicked off their conversation. "So how come you're still up?"
"Pretty much the same reason you are. Well, less the claustrophobia and more that I just couldn't sleep," he told her with a shrug, crossing his own arms. He stifled a yawn before he went on. "I'm tired as hell but my brain won't shut off. So I came up here to get some fresh air, happened to wander over here to see you talking to Mr. X's flunkies." He paused. "What'd you have to talk about with them anyways?"
"Not much. I just wanted to know if they were staying or not. They said they were and I wanted to know why," Naomi told him. The conversation had been short lived, but it didn't go over as badly as it could have. "I guess I ended up trying to comfort them about Mr. X, but I dunno if that went over so well. They've put a lot of faith in me now that he's out of the picture."
"Can you really blame any of us for that?" Count asked her. "You're a monster in the air. Before it used to piss me off and kinda freaked me out, but now…you're just someone that we can all count on. I guess you always were, actually, even to me and everyone else that treated you like shit."
"I'm not some kind of superhero or something, y'know," Naomi told him with a sigh.
"You're about the closest thing we've got right now," Count said, only half-joking judging from his tone. "I figured you'd be used to that by now."
"Well I'm not. Having everyone's lives in my hands isn't really fun," Naomi said. She didn't really have the energy to be annoyed. She'd more or less resigned herself to everyone's expectations, but that didn't make them any easier. She was their leader and it was her job to guide them and look out for them, so she just had to accept that it came with the job. But being put on a pedestal wasn't always the greatest thing. Count didn't answer her, so she took the time to get the topic back off of her, trying to sound unbothered. "So…what've you been thinking about?"
Count shrugged again. "A lot of stuff," he said, keeping his voice a bit low. "Not really anything important."
Naomi hesitated. She had a perfect opportunity to ask him what she wanted to, about what would come next for him, but truth be told she had been trying not to think about it too much. This was all going to end and she wanted that to happen. God, she wanted it to end more than anything. She wanted the war to be over and for all of them to go home, but she had a sinking feeling that once the thing that brought them all together was over everyone would be going their separate ways. Maybe retiring, transferring units, getting promotions, and whatever else. That would have been fine with her. She wanted them to be happy and healthy and live normal lives and do whatever they wanted, so long as they weren't trapped in this hell anymore. She'd never expect them to stay under her thumb forever, but she didn't want to say goodbye to any of them. And she really didn't want to say goodbye to Count. But the reason for that was an entirely different problem she'd have to deal with.
Against her better judgment, she couldn't help but ask him anyway. Pushing down any doubts and working up what courage she could, she lowered her voice a bit, pretty sure she sounded a bit pathetic when she asked him, "Have you thought about what you'll do? Once all of this is over, I mean."
Count didn't answer her right away, but she heard him shift behind her. She tried not to look at him, trying to hide her own worry and embarrassment. It was a stupid question and she was just setting herself up for a punch to the gut. She was actually afraid to hear what answer he could give her. But before the silence became unbearable, he answered her. "I'll be honest, I…haven't really given it much thought," he said. Giving her a breathy laugh, he played it off as he said, "I'm not leaving the air force anytime soon, though, so don't think you're getting rid of me that easily."
"I didn't mean it like that," Naomi said, managing a small chuckle of her own.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just screwing with you," Count told her, waving it off. His smile fell a little and his tone softened a bit more. "Seriously though, aside from my career I don't really know what else is left for me back home. Hell, they could lock me up again the second all of this is over."
"You don't have any family to see?" Naomi asked him. Another idea dawned on her, but she swallowed the knot in her throat and tried to sound playful as she asked him, "Or a girlfriend or something?"
"Last girl I dated dumped me halfway through college, so…no." Count actually sounded a bit uncomfortable when she brought that up. Naomi felt uncomfortable bringing it up, but for some reason she'd wanted to ask. And she felt kind of bad that she was so relieved to hear his answer, too. Clearing his throat, he went back to the first part of her question. "As for my family…let's just say I wouldn't blame them if they never wanted to speak to me again. I made their lives a living hell the last couple of years."
"What did you do that was so bad?" Naomi asked him. She wasn't sure how much she should pry, but if he was worried or stressed about something she wanted to help.
"What didn't I do? I pretty much spat in their faces, nearly ruined their reputation, completely disappointed them and shit over everything they raised me to be. The list goes on," Count said with a scoff. He hesitated, and Naomi stayed quiet, looking over at him and waiting for him to continue. Eventually he did. "Our lives were never easy. My biological dad bailed when I was like twelve and my mom had to work her ass off at two different jobs just for us to be able to eat. Her old high school friend ended up in the picture, and he stepped up after my dad left…next thing I knew the two of them were married and my stepfather ended up adopting me. Pretty sweet ending, right?"
"I mean, yeah," Naomi said. She'd had a pretty comfortable life, family secrets aside, so she didn't have much of a reference for stuff like that. She couldn't imagine dealing with it as an adult, let alone as a kid. "Seems like your adoptive dad was a good guy."
"God, he is. He taught me how to not get the shit beat out of me and how to shoot a gun and go hunting and fishing and play sports. He did all the normal dad stuff my biological father didn't give a shit about. Had the best sense of humor and sarcasm, too," Count said, smiling a little at the memory. It seemed like it was really bittersweet, but Naomi managed to smile when he did, the mental image a sweet one. "He was on the police force. Helped a lot with civilians during the last war and nearly got himself killed during a terrorist attack. No matter what he did, he put other people first. If it wasn't me and my mom then it was strangers he'd never met…either at work or just people he passed on the street." He sighed. "He taught me to be like that too. To go the extra mile for people and serve others while my mom taught me how to work hard and stay humble. And as you can see from…everything that I am, I took everything they taught me and shat all over it."
Naomi didn't want to interject. She knew he'd been convicted of fraud, but she hadn't ever pressed him on why or how severe it was. She just stayed quiet and let him talk.
"I was so embarrassed by the two of them when I got older. I already put up with shit from my 'friends' because the guy wasn't my 'real dad' or whatever, and after a while I just…started shitting on him, too," Count admitted, talking slowly. "And I got tired of not being somebody. I was just some random kid from nowhere whose own birth father didn't want him and barely spoke to him…so I started lying. About everything." He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. "It started small to look good and impress people but…I ended up getting involved with some shady groups then having to lie and steal to keep them from killing me. Before I knew it, I had a whole identity I fabricated out of thin air and I used it to lie my way through college and then the military and flight school…and they were so proud of me when I said I was gonna be a fighter pilot. But I lied about being a good pilot, too."
"You are a good pilot," Naomi said, trying to reassure him. She wasn't going to listen to him deprecate himself. "You're a great one, actually. You didn't lie to them about that."
"Maybe, but I did a lot of other shit. All for my own personal gain. Just about every kind of fraud out there, a few years into my military service, even lying and saying I was some kind of noble. Every record and oath I took was essentially a lie," Count told her, recounting the events slowly. He sounded less angry and more just guilty. "And when the truth came out and they found out they looked…so crushed and hurt and…they weren't even angry at me. They didn't yell, they didn't call me stupid or an ingrate, they just…looked at me like they'd lost their entire world. But God, I yelled at them. I wanted them to be as angry as I was."
Naomi blinked, looking over at him. It looked like it hurt him just to think about it. "Count…"
"I just wanted attention, y'know? To feel like I was important," Count said, keeping his voice low. "That's why I kept doing it. Even in the penal unit. There wasn't anything they could do to me at that point, right? My life was screwed at that point, might as well keep up the charade." He let out a dry chuckle. "So long as my life actually meant something in the end. Lie or not, it got me that far, right?"
"You do mean something," Naomi blurted it out before she could stop herself, turning herself around to face him. She couldn't listen to him talk like that. Not when he was one of the main reasons she'd been able to keep going all of this time. Not when being around him and being able to joke with him were the highlight of every day for months. He was important to her. "You mean something to me." He stared at her with an almost shocked look, his face flushing a bit. Naomi felt her own cheeks heat up and she saved herself as quickly as she could. "And to all of us. I know everyone is hard on you, and I know Wiseman pushed you all the time, but we wouldn't do that if we didn't care about you. We do care about you. And I know you care about all of us, so…that's not a lie, either."
Count just stared at her for a moment. At first she was scared she'd overstepped, but the look faded to a soft smile. "Thanks, Trigger." Naomi returned the smile, but as soon as she did he looked away from her and his own smile disappeared as quickly as it had formed. She was worried. Actually, just straight up terrified. And as soon as he looked back at her her heart started racing. "Look, Trigger…about that, I want…you mean a hell of a lot to me, too. And in case things go south against those drones I don't want to…I want you to know that…" He stumbled over the words, then let out a frustrated sigh and took a step towards her. "Trigger, you…you kept me alive and saved me in the most literal sense, about a half a dozen times, and I just want…" His voice was barely above a whisper, forcing out another breathy laugh. "I want you to know that…I'd follow you anywhere."
Naomi felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest and her stomach was doing flips. It was the same kind of rush she felt flying. Pulling some insane maneuvers and having to contend with the G-forces until it stopped being tiring and started feeling exhilarating, like she was completely alive and giving death a middle finger. The fact he made her feel like that was terrifying, just like a hard dogfight, but she also wanted to feel like that. She didn't hate it. It was one of the best and most exciting things in the world. But being so close to him and him saying what he did the way he did was starting to get scary and not in the good way.
He was so close she had to tilt her head up a bit to look into his eyes, and that just made things even harder. Because there wasn't anyone else that she wanted by her side more than him. And she couldn't risk losing him. Either because she couldn't focus or because he tried to be a hero. She'd put herself on the line for him without a second thought but the idea of every stupid thing like that he'd done for her was painful. Looking up at him, thinking about that, she wanted to just hold him as close to her as she could to make sure he wasn't going anywhere or that he was safe as long as she was there. He'd made it clear he'd do the same for her.
For a moment, Naomi got lost in her thoughts. Until he reached up and brushed his fingers across her cheek, moving her hair out of her face, and for a second she wanted to lean into his touch. But as soon as his hand gently cupped her face and he moved as though he was going to kiss her, she pulled herself together and placed her hand on his wrist, taking a step back. He backed off as soon as she did, and as they both stepped back Naomi tried to save the moment. "Count, wait…dammit."
Count swallowed, looking a bit embarrassed, but that changed to apologetic a second later. "I'm sorry, Trig, I never should have –"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong, I…it's just that…" Naomi cursed herself. She looked around, praying none of the people still out and about had seen anything that had just happened. For both their sake and the sake of their reputation. She reached up to grab a fistful of her own hair, letting out a frustrated sigh and trying to get herself together, while Count watched her with a concerned look on his face. Once she calmed down, she managed to meet his eyes again. "People only say and do stuff like that when they're scared they aren't coming back. And we've still got a war to finish and I can't risk either of us letting our guard down when we're this close. I can't…I won't lose anyone else, and especially not you."
"Trigger…" Count started, but she cut him off.
"If we're gonna do this then you're gonna have to make it out of that battle alive," Naomi told him. She put on a smile, trying to ease the tension. "So I guess you're gonna have to stick with me a bit longer."
"I told you I'd follow you anywhere, didn't I? None of that was a lie," Count told her, putting on a smile of his own. He stepped forward again and gave her a gentle kiss to the forehead like he had after the battle at Tyler Island. Only this time he didn't walk away from her, and Naomi wrapped her arms around him and pulled him towards her in a hug, which only briefly caught him off guard. He eventually wrapped his arms around her, resting one hand just below her shoulder blade and the other on her lower back while she rested her head against his shoulder.
"Then you better not die," she told him as firmly as she could with a smile still on her face.
She felt him lean his head against hers. "I'm not going anywhere, Trigger."