AUTHOR'S NOTES: A little bit of a filler chapter here as the story relocates across the country. This chapter is basically some character building (with both our main characters and Riana Arashikaze), and some world-building, as well as a few reminders way back to ORW III. I love a good post-apocalyptic tale, and even though this world is a lot more stable than most, there's always going to be reminders that it's a world that survived a nuclear war.

Naval Base Mayport

Jacksonville, Florida, United States of Canada

22 April 2002

"Good morning, Ruby," Weiss greeted her friend. She was preflighting the Typhoon, checking that the eight missiles onboard and the two underwing drop tanks were all secure, looking into the tailpipes and the intake to make sure they were clear. "How are you this fine morning?" It was a fine morning, and according to the meterologists, it promised to be a fine day.

"Mornin'," Ruby mumbled. She was in her flight suit like Weiss, but looked exhausted.

"Everything okay?"

Ruby sniffed a laugh. "Well, Weiss, let's see. We're working for the CIA now, we're facing stealthy GRIMM that may or may not be piloted, half the Air Force wishes I was in prison, and my boyfriend is being transferred as far away from me as possible so I'm not 'distracted,' by the same person who, it turned out, kept the person in the world I hate the most still alive for reasons that don't make a lot of fucking sense. Oh yeah, aforementioned boyfriend also wants to marry me."

"You could've just said no, it's not okay," Weiss told her. Ruby realized that last sentence had slipped out, and prayed Weiss didn't notice. Her prayer was not answered, because the blue eyes suddenly widened. "He did what?" Weiss exclaimed, as she realized what Ruby had said.

"Shh, Weiss! Not so loud!" Ruby looked around frantically, but neither Yang nor Blake were anywhere around. "Keep it a secret, okay?"

Weiss grabbed Ruby's shoulders. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, what? Did you accept, you dolt!"

Ruby had to smile; when Weiss broke out the d-word, she was serious. But the smile quickly faded. "No."

Weiss looked confused. "No? You didn't accept?"

"No. I didn't accept." Weiss opened her mouth, but Ruby gently took her hands off her shoulders. "I don't want to talk about it right now, okay? We're still boyfriend/girlfriend, just not…official or whatever. We're…what you and Marrow are."

"Ruby, Marrow and I are friends with benefits, as he put it. He hasn't proposed to me. We have sex now and then. It's not serious, not like..." Weiss took a step back. "But…all right, I won't press for details. For now."

"Thanks," Ruby said. "I might need to hit you up for advice later, though."

"Marriage advice from the unmarried marriage counselor?" Weiss chuckled. "You'll notice that I was the last person in our merry band that lost their virginity."

Ruby was tempted to ask Weiss more about that—Weiss' first time, with Marrow, had been the night before Ruby had been shot down and tortured by Neo, and they hadn't had much time to talk since. When Ruby was a freshman in high school, Yang had shooed her off so she could have "big girl talk" with her older friends. Ruby had envied that. Now she was in a position to do some of that herself, but there wasn't time. There's never enough time, she thought, and yawned.

She looked back longingly towards the VOQ, knowing that at least she had made some nice memories. After getting back from Greenbrier, Ruby Flight plus Oscar and Terri Suul had gone back to the crab shack, and finally had a chance to pig out on seafood. They had told fighter pilot stories and laughed late into the night, forgetting the war for a little while, remembering friends that were long gone and those that were still very much alive. Although beers had been consumed, none of them had gotten drunk—though others at the crab shack that watched the pilots do karaoke would've been forgiven to think they were very drunk. Weiss had perfect pitch and easily won the karaoke contest, but Ruby had laughed so hard it hurt watching Yang and Blake butcher songs; she would never hear Hootie and the Blowfish again without thinking about what the bear said they could.

Afterwards, around midnight, everyone had headed back to their VOQ rooms—Terri had left to go home to her family, while Yang, Blake and Weiss went to Yang's room to play video games for a little while. Ruby and Oscar had gone back to his room and once more, made love. They were both tired of the hard and angry words they had shared, and their lovemaking had been silly and playful, with Oscar acting as the Evil Overlord (using one of the spare sheets as a cape) and Ruby the Helpless Captive (tied up with a phone cord). Afterwards, giggling and sated, they had slept wonderfully, only for Oscar to wake Ruby up and insist they were filthy and needed to shower together. As she had arrived on the flightline at 0915, it was the reason she hadn't gotten much sleep—but it was worth it. But now Oscar was headed to Key West, she to Arizona, and there was no guarantee at all they would see each other ever again.

"Ruby?" Weiss was trying to get her attention.

"Huh? Sorry." Ruby smiled sheepishly. "I was…uh…thinking about something else."

"I don't wonder." Weiss gave her a sly grin.

Before she could embarrass herself any further, Ruby changed the conversation. "I know Terri Suul's staying here, so Blake had to fly a Bug instead of her F-14…but why a two-seater?" She pointed at the two-seat F/A-18D Hornet sitting at the end of Ruby Flight's lineup. It carried Marine markings, the tails marked with the coiled rattlesnake of VMFA-323, the legendary Death Rattlers. Must have flown down from Beaufort this morning.

Ruby's question was answered, but not by Weiss. They heard Yang yell out a greeting, and both women turned to see three people walking towards them: Yang, Blake, and Riana Arashikaze, the latter of which explained the two-seat F-18, since she was dressed in the same flight suit, G-suit, survival vest and lifejacket that the others were.

"Mornin', Rubes," Yang greeted her sister, which included picking her up and kissing her on the lips.

Ruby spluttered and spit. "Really, Yang?"

"I'm not getting any action, so I might as well get it second-hand." Yang made a nauseated face as Ruby gagged. "You know, that came out a lot more gross than I intended it to."

"I worry about you sometimes, Yang," Weiss sighed. "Actually, no. I worry about you constantly."

Blake thumbed at the rest of her flight and spoke to Riana. "See what I have to put up with?" Riana grinned.

The banter stopped as all five women quickly talked about formations, callsigns, frequencies, and weather. It would be about three and a half hours from Mayport to Luke Air Force Base; they were not in a hurry, and they would pick up time as they headed west. "No offense," Ruby said, "but why are you coming with us, Riana?"

"I'm your CIA liasion," Riana replied. "Don't worry; I'll stay out of your way. I'm just here to get you what you need to accomplish your mission—cut through the red tape and so on. I'll probably head back to Greenbrier after a few days." She smiled longingly at the four fighters. "I could've met you out there on the Gulfstream, but I've always wanted to fly in one of these things, so I pulled some strings. Top Gun is my dad's favorite movie. I know all the lines."

"And every time you use one of the lines, you get fined fifty bucks," Yang said. It was an act, of course; she quoted the movie vigorously, like most fighter pilots who had grown up during the 1980s. Riana nodded, clearly not sure if she was being pranked or if Yang was very serious.

"Well…we should probably get going." Blake ruffled Ruby's hair and motioned for Riana to follow her to the Hornet.

"You okay?" Yang asked Ruby, her tone now serious for real.

"Yeah…just miss my boyfriend already," Ruby said wistfully. Yang's smile was brittle; she still had trouble getting used to the fact that her kid sister had one, let alone was having regular sex. Ruby dropped her voice. "How's things with Blake?"

Yang shrugged. "We're friends. Probably all we'll ever be." She tried to make her smile seem more genuine. "Well…as Dad says, if you've got eight friends to carry your dead ass to the grave, then you are a successful person. I'm satisfied, Ruby."

"Hope so, Yang." The sisters hugged. "I love you, okay?"

"Love you too…you little shit." Yang pulled back and put her hands on her hips. "I don't get it. Here I am, a blonde bombshell, with legs for days and tits that don't quit, and here's my sis, short and flat-chested, and she's the one getting all the action."

"Ha! Serves you right for all those times you wouldn't let me hang out with the big girls." Ruby winked at her sister, they laughed, and then they parted to their aircraft.

Blake helped Riana strap into the aircraft. "You ever been in one of these before?"

"Just on Microsoft Flight Simulator." Oh God, Blake thought. Most people who flew in fighters, even if it was just to take pictures or as morale flights, went through the basics—how to bail out, how to open a parachute, how to survive a ditching. Her concern must have shown, because Riana gave her a reassuring look. "I've done over a hundred parachute jumps, Captain…and not why you think. I'm not field personnel; I'm just an analyst. Skydiving is my hobby, though."

"That's good," Blake told her. It meant that Riana at least knew how to use a parachute and do a correct landing. "Okay, since this is a cross-country flight in generally safe airspace, we shouldn't have to get into combat. If we do, I'll give you a quick crash course in how to operate the radar if we have time; otherwise, just be my second set of eyes." Blake peered a little closer and noticed that the glass in Riana's glasses was a little thick: they weren't there for looks. "How bad are your eyes?"

"Um…let's just say I'm pretty nearsighted. But I'm good at sensing movement!"

Oh shit, Blake thought. Well…at least she's not a complete newbie, like Little was. "Like I said, we probably won't get into combat. Anyway, if something goes wrong, I'll yell eject, eject, eject—three times, just like that."

"And if I say anything after the first one, I'm talking to myself and doing my first and last solo in a F/A-18."

Blake laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. And it's a F-18. Only the dumbass media adds the A." She checked Riana's straps and made sure the connections were in place. "Got a barf bag, just in case we run into some weather? It's supposed to be CAVU the whole way, but you never know." Riana tapped a leg pocket. "Good. If you puke back here, you get to clean it up. Not the crew chief or the ground crew when we get to Luke. If you start feeling a little nauseated, take some deep breaths of that oxygen. That helps. If we get into a fight, your G-suit will keep blood in your head, but remember to press down like you have to go to the bathroom or even scream." She motioned around the cockpit. "Don't touch the throttle or stick unless I tell you to and keep your feet off the rudder pedals. Just sit back and enjoy the flight."

"Hey, just sitting back here is good enough for me," Riana said. "Ready when you are, Captain."

"Call me Blake." Blake moved to the front cockpit and got strapped in, with the help of the ground crew. Once they were ready, she lowered the canopy. "Doing good?" Blake asked as she strapped on the oxygen mask.

"Yeah, let's do this." Riana's voice was trembling, but Blake wasn't sure if it was excitement or nervousness.

In deference to her passenger, and because there was no real reason to do a combat one, Blake executed a standard takeoff, just like the rest of the flight. They circled around Mayport once, then turned roughly northwest. Their route would take them across northern Florida, over the Gulf of Mexico to clear the congested airspace around Pensacola, then back over Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. Blake went over the route in her head, thinking about divert airfields if she needed to land, and where any potential threat might come from. The only danger zone would be around New Mexico and Arizona, where air pirate bands from Mexico occasionally raided across the border—though that was less of a problem these days. Danger Zone, Blake thought, and stifled a giggle. Like many naval aviators, she thought Top Gun was the dumbest, most ridiculous, cliché-ridden piece of propaganda ever made, but she'd also watched it probably a hundred times.

They soon crossed over Florida and went out to sea, though they would never quite be out of sight of land. Blake checked the altimeter: 25,000 feet. They were actually below most airliners at this altitude. It was a beautiful day, as promised: the blue sky curved over them without a cloud in it, deepening to dark blue; below them was the Gulf of Mexico, the light blue waters only broken by the wake of a freighter steaming south. "Doing okay back there?" she asked Riana over the intercom.

"Yeah," Riana replied. "This is really beautiful. You don't get this view from an airliner." There was a pause. "Hey, can you flip the plane upside down?"

"Just want to see what it's like? Sure." Blake put the F-18 into a lazy roll until they were now looking up to see down into the ocean. She gave Riana about a minute or two, then rolled back over.

"What are you two doing over there, Ruby Three?" Ruby asked.

"Ruby Three Bravo wanted to do a little bit of aerobatics, Lead," Blake explained.

They were flying a wide formation, the usual expanded combat box. She saw Yang's speedbrake open on the spine of the F-15, and the big fighter slowed until she was flying parallel to the Hornet. The speedbrake closed and Yang flew closer. At first, Blake thought that Yang wanted to show off for Riana a little, maybe even scare the inexperienced woman by getting as close as possible. Then she saw Yang was trying to get her attention by waggling her wings. "Ruby Three, Four. Want to hassle?" she radioed.

Blake glanced into the rearview mirror of the forward cockpit, set in the canopy bow. "Riana, how do you feel about a little mock 1V1 air combat?"

"Really? I'd love to!" She held up her hands to show Blake they were not on the stick and throttle. "I take it you don't want me to fly it."

"That's a bad idea. No, I got it. Let me make sure Ruby's okay with it."

"Don't you outrank her?" Riana asked.

"Yes…on the ground. Up here, she's flight lead. I could be a four-star general and I'd have to take orders from her." She keyed the radio. "Ruby Four, we're up for smoking your ass. Ruby Lead, permission for a little fight?"

"Wait one, Ruby Three." They heard Ruby radio the nearest military radar station, which was Eglin AFB, about fifty miles to the north. They were over the Eglin ranges, out to sea, but both the USAF and the FAA tended to look askance at unauthorized dogfighting. "Permission granted, Ruby Three, Four," Ruby called back. "You're cleared for 1V1 ACM. Skies are clear for twenty miles around; hard deck is ten thousand feet. Nothing too fancy—keep your tanks. Ruby Two and me will hold high at angels 35. Start in line abreast. Wait until I give the word." The F-16 and Typhoon climbed upwards, clearing the area. Yang looked over, reached up to the top of her instrument panel, and acted like she was cocking the guns on an old World War I fighter. Blake nodded: guns only. Yang then swung outwards a little until they were flying line abreast, about two miles apart.

"Okay, Riana, tighten your straps. This is going to be a knife fight. We can't get too rough because we'll tear the tanks off, but you're still going to be taking a hell of a lot more Gs than you would on that Gulfstream," Blake warned.

"Ready," Riana reported.

"Get the barf bag ready just in case." Blake's eyes were on Yang, and she knew the other pilot was watching her.

"Ruby Three, Ruby Four, fight's on!" Ruby called out.

Blake instantly snapped the stick right, turning towards Yang, watching the guns pipper in the HUD. Since their guns were actually loaded, she would not pull the trigger. She hoped Yang had been too slow off the hop, but she had been wrong: the F-15 was turning towards her. A second later, the two fighters went past each other canopy to canopy, Blake getting the briefest flash of Yang's yellow helmet before the F-15 was gone. She pulled the stick to the right again, remembering not to turn too tightly or she'd tear the drop tanks off—technically, dogfighting with the tanks on was a very bad idea due to the extra drag, but dropping them into the Gulf of Mexico would mean an explanation to the United States Marine Corps exactly why, and an impromptu show-off dogfight was not a good reason. Even so, the turn was a good 4 Gs. "Watch for Yang!" Blake warned Riana, whose hands were on the canopy, holding on.

"Okay!" A pause. "Don't see her!"

"She's out in front." Blake spotted the F-15 curving to the left. "We'll turn inside of her." That's weird, Blake thought, as she went left as well, a little harder than Yang clearly was. The F-18 could turn inside the F-15 in certain parameters, but Yang was making this too easy. Maybe she's doing it for Riana's benefit, give her what it feels like to make a kill? The pipper slid towards the nose of the F-15; one more second and it would be over the wide back of the Eagle.

Suddenly the F-15's wings went level, and then the fighter rocketed upwards: it seemed to disappear. "Oh shit," Blake said, rolling back to the right, knowing Yang had the advantage now. She had never lost it: the slow turn was a trap that Blake had stepped right into. I should've known… "Riana, look up! She's going to drop down on us!"

"I see her! Tally F-15, uh, one o'clock high!" It was actually closer to two, Blake saw as the F-15 dived, but she was impressed with Riana's radio call. For all the good it did: Blake knew she was trapped. If she broke either way, Yang would get behind her, and if she dived, it would take her below the hard deck in seconds. She had to try, and went right. Normally, she might have wiggled out of Yang's gunsight, but limited by the drop tanks, there was no chance. "Takka takka takka!" Yang shouted, and Blake could swear that she felt the F-15's gunsight on the back of her head.

"Takka what?" Riana asked. Blake saw that she was twisted around in her seat, watching the F-15 about half a mile between the canted twin tails of the F-18.

"Guns call, since we can't actually fire the gun," Blake sighed. "And we're also dead." Sure enough, Ruby helpfully radioed that the Hornet was a mort.

"Ruby Three, go again?" Yang radioed.

"Damn right, go again, Four." They set up back in line abreast, and once more broke into each other when Ruby called out that the fight was on. This time, however, Blake snapped upwards into a climb. "Why'd you do that?" Riana exclaimed. "She's behind us!"

Blake checked the rearview mirror. "Damn right she is." She held the climb, checking the sky around her as they went through 45,000 feet in a matter of moments, Ruby and Weiss two gray specks against the water. C'mon, Yang, c'mon!

"Takk—" Yang began, and Blake pulled the throttles back to idle and popped her speedbrakes. The F-15 shot past like a rocket, Blake instantly threw the the Hornet to one side, settled the pipper between the F-15's engines, and almost pulled the trigger by reflex. "Takka takka takka!" she shouted.

"Ruby Four, you're a mort!" Ruby sent out. "Okay, Rubies, knock it off. Let's Charlie Mike out of here." Blake moved the throttles back up, pushed the stick down to give Riana a bit of zero-G for a moment, and resumed course as Ruby radioed Eglin to thank them. A quick glance at the clock showed the entire engagement had lasted only five minutes. Yang came back down to cruising altitude, waggled her wings, and flew close alongside. "Hey, Ruby Three Bravo, you puking yet?"

"Are you kidding, Ruby Four?" Riana sounded utterly elated. "That was awesome! I wish we could do more!"

"Not feeling sick?" Blake asked.

"Are you kidding? No way! Wow!" Riana was breathing heavily, but Blake knew that the other girl was grinning ear to ear underneath her mask. "That was fun!"

The rest of the flight was a little anticlimactic, and Blake found herself getting a bit bored over the open plains of Texas. She was abruptly reminded of why they were going to Phoenix as she spotted a blackened spot against the plains to her left. "San Antonio," she said aloud. She remembered Maria Calavera's silver eyes came from being exposed to the radiation of that strike forty years before. It had been a ground impact that had obliterated Kelly and Lackland Air Force Bases, along with most of the city. "I wonder if the Alamo survived."

"It did," Riana said. "Still pretty hot if you want to visit it, though." Blake knew she meant radiation, not temperature.

"Have you been there?"

"No…I think Grandmother has. I've been to New York, though."

"Can't imagine what that's like."

"Spooky. It's all overgrown. A lot of buildings have collapsed, because the subways are flooded. You can't even go to Brooklyn or Queens because there's nothing left but two impact craters filled with radioactive water. We landed in Times Square and one of the people in the team had to gun down a feral cat with a M16. They're huge up there. Thank God we didn't run into any lions or tigers…they run loose in the city because they escaped from the zoo. Whole packs of them." Riana was silent for a moment, remembering. "It's weird, though…the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building are still standing tall. Lost all their windows, but they're solid. They built them good back then—took two nuclear shockwaves and didn't come down. Now they're like gravestones. You walk into Central Park and it's like a jungle…except for the Jackie Kennedy Memorial. That's beautiful." She laughed softly. "It's funny. It's all ruins, like ancient Rome or Angkor Wat in Cambodia…but it's oddly interesting as hell to be there. You know two million people died there, but…it's fascinating. I want to go back. Isn't that weird?"

Blake laughed as well, even as she felt cold. A war that had happened over a decade before she was born had reached out and touched her with a bony, icy finger over the plains of Texas, with the blasted ruins of San Antonio now behind them. She remembered seeing the trinitite of the Detroit impact craters glowing in the moonlight the night she had flown to Cleveland's ruins to find Roman Torchwick's base. "I think you're an adrenaline junkie, Riana."

"Probably. Comes with the territory, I guess."

They both quieted as a new voice spoke into the radio. "Ruby Flight, Darkstar, alpha check."

"E-3 AWACS," Blake explained before Riana could ask.

"Darkstar, Ruby Lead," Ruby reported. She gave them the makeup of Ruby Flight, plus her fuel state. Blake looked at hers: the drop tanks were empty and they were on internal fuel, but even with the dogfighting, she had enough to reach Luke with some to spare.

"Ruby, Darkstar—stand by to copy." Blake let go of the stick to grab a pen from her flight suit. She tried to balance the stick between her knees, but the Hornet began to wallow in the sky. "Riana, take the stick."

"What? You serious?"

"Yes!"

"Oookay…" Blake felt the stick move in her hand. The F-18 began to wallow even more as Riana tried to level out, going into what was known as a Dutch roll as the fighter began to yaw back and forth: Riana was overcorrecting. "Uh, Blake…"

"Just let the stick go for a moment." The F-18 smoothed itself out back to level flight. "Okay, now just hold it. Both feet on the rudder pedals, hands on the throttle. Don't move them, just hold what you have." She quickly jotted down what the AWACS was saying: new vectors. Blake reached up and plugged them into the inertial navigation system, and was surprised when the map display showed them their destination: Las Vegas. She did some quick calculations in her head: they would make it, though it would be a little closer on fuel than she'd like. If worse came to worse, they could call for a tanker or divert to Flagstaff. Darkstar signed off and Blake took the aircraft back, changing to the new course.

"Where are we going? Not to Phoenix?" Riana asked.

"Las Vegas."

"Uh oh. That's not good. Have you been there?"

"No. Yang has."

"It's bad," Riana explained. "It's not even really part of the United States. We had to abandon it back in the late 60s, when the GRIMM came. They destroyed Nellis and President Nixon ordered the place evacuated. The population wouldn't leave, so they were just kind of abandoned…but they held off the GRIMM. Now they're super pissed at the government and don't want to come back. The whole place is run by organized crime now."

"I heard the stories," Blake said. "We can land there, though? Yang said there's like a military mission there, right?"

"Yes, there's one—we can land there because the city council of Vegas needs the help. The place is a GRIMM magnet. I understand pilots are welcome there, but anyone else from the government?" Riana snorted. "Forget it. They'll tell you to get the hell out." Riana raised her visor and rubbed her eyes. "Still, though…if the AWACS told us to divert, then Grandmother likely wants us there for some reason. I'll call her when we get down. We'll be safe enough at McCarran."

The balance of the flight was made in silence as all five of them wondered why they were being sent to the most notorious city in the Remnant of the United States—a city that was not part of the country, as Riana had said, and yet still part of it. Blake felt apprehensive, about the same way she had felt about Menagerie when the White Fang were still loose. Maybe Arashikaze Senior got intel that Vegas is next on the hit parade, she thought. It makes sense that the Kobolds would hit there next—much softer target than Florida or Phoenix.

It wasn't long before the Grand Canyon yawned beneath them; it was the first time Blake had ever seen it, and she was stunned about how huge it was. Hoover Dam slid underneath as they entered onto the downwind approach to McCarran, and Blake lowered the landing gear. The reserve fuel light came on, but that was no longer a concern. She and Yang would land behind Ruby and Weiss, on parallel runways.

She spared a moment to look at Las Vegas on approach. It was still early in the day, just after noon, but the Strip still glittered in front of her, high-rises of glass, steel and neon, though the neon was shut off. Around the Strip stood other, lesser hotels, then a ring of nice homes. Beyond that, there was a wall, and beyond that, houses were crowded together tightly, something that reminded Blake of the Brazilian favelas she had seen in pictures. In the distance was the remains of Nellis Air Force Base, barely recognizable. Then she had to get her head back in the aircraft. She flared to land, lowering her flaps, and made a smooth landing on the long, modern runways of McCarran International Airport. She slowed down with the speedbrake, then rolled out at the end of the runway, turning to follow Yang to the military area of the ramp. "Oh," she said as they turned off the taxiway. "That clears it up a bit."

"How so?" Riana asked. Her voice held a note of disappointment that the flight was over. Blake pointed. Parked at one end of a row of F-16s was something that looked not of this world, even by Las Vegas standards. "I see," Riana said, because she did. "The Night Raven."

AUTHOR'S ADDITIONAL NOTES: Looks like Raven is back.

Again, this was a bit of filler, but it was a fun chapter to write. This story arc will involve getting more into the deserted areas of the Remnant of the United States; I've been watching a lot of Life After People to get ideas what an abandoned New York City or Seattle would look like. As we'll see in the next chapter, the Las Vegas of the Remnant is not very much like the Vegas of our timeline-it's less of a tourist trap than it is the more 1960s-era wild and wooly gambling den with the Mafia running the place, with a huge line between the rich and the desperately poor. Of course, Yang was in Vegas briefly during ORW III, but this will last longer than one chapter.

There's a good chance the next chapter will be a week late. I'm going off on a quick vacation, so I might not feel like pounding out a quick chapter while I'm out having fun.