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444th Air Base, Zapland, Usea.

June 1st, 2019.

0745hrs.

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Two days have passed since the new additions to the base were brought on board. To Mere's own relief, she got to know a few of them, some of them had some background in mechanics so that takes a load off of her and Queen while another was gonna be joining the pilots, Sinker was the name she recalled. He would be taking Duds place as Spare 10. Out of the group though there was one last person she hadn't met. Quiet guy from what she's heard from the other convicts that came off the transport. From the few times she saw him, his body language didn't tell her much either and he looked like a plain normal person. He was about as tall as Count yet he had short brown hair. His eyes though, it was hard to put into words what she saw but it felt almost like a ghost came to haunt them. A fitting name she made for him since he seemed to just disappear into the base. She rarely saw him even with the other inmates at the yard and the only time she's seen him was when he left the chow. Putting that aside, she was on her way to the briefing room. The day before all the prisoners associated with the planes were told there's a meeting at 0800 hour. She dashed through the cafeteria and managed to grab a small to-go meal consisting of an over ripe apple and a barely toasted piece of bread with cold cheese in the center. Typical, was all she could think of as she stuffed the dry sandwich down just before she entered the main building for the meeting.

Entering, not many people were present. It didn't help that there were only a handful of pilots to begin with and she still wonders why she's ordered to come to these meetings. Sure she's a WSO and is required to attend but there's no pilot that wants to fly with her. No one wants to babysit another person in the air. Taking a look around the room she saw Sinker was present along with Lampshade near the front quietly minding their own business. Tabloid was in his usual spot fiddling with a zipper when he spotted her. He gave her a grin and patted the seat next to him that Mere usually took. Plopping down she started to chew on her apple just as Full Band and High Roller walked in.

"Well morning to you," Tabloid said as he glanced up and nodded to Full Band as the two took their seats in front of them. "Yet another early morning briefing, wonder what it'll be this time."

"Wanna bet on what it'll be today?" High Roller grinned as he glanced back at the two.

"Probably just him going to introduce the new pilots. Maybe it'll be him preaching about why we're here or maybe they'll send us on a mission," Full Band lazily said as leaned back in his seat. "A scheduled mission would be nice instead of having to scramble against a raid."

"So, you wanna lock that bet in?" High Roller asked Full Band, his thumb rubbing his index finger before glancing at the door hearing it swing open again.

"Please, I've already put everything I can spare on that first bet we made," Full Band elbowed High Roller.

"Still shocked you put your bets on the new guy. Yee of little faith for yours truly," Count smirked as he took the seat beside Mere and leaned back. "You should know by now that I'm the top dog around here, Full Band."

"Oh keep yapping your own praise Count," Champ grunted as he took the seat beside High Roller. "We'll all see once we get a kill."

"Well fat chance of that happening," Tabloid grunted as he leaned back in his chair. "Two for two intercepts without any weapons. When do you think we'll even get to fight back?"

"And what do you think Wire? Awfully quiet now," High Roller glanced at Mere. Crossing her legs she leaned back a bit and just shrugged.

"Well I can't say too much. None of y'all want to have me bitchin' at you from the back so I can't tell how well you fly."

"Well there aren't any two seaters ready, now is there," Full Band looked back at her.

"Tomcats ready for anyone if you want to swap. Besides," she clasped her hands together behind her head and smirked, "I've got the most kills of you all right now."

"That doesn't count, that was before you were convicted for your crimes," Full Band snorted. "Probably just rode the coattails of a pilot for your kills. Either way, I'm fine with what I've got right now."

"You'd just get in my way," Champ huffed.

"I can barely keep it together in that Mirage so the stress of having a second person would be too much," Tabloid shook his hand.

"I'm sure you're good at what you do, but the Su-33 just fits me like a glove," Count leaned back looking to see the other pilots filing into the room while High Roller chuckled.

"No luck there huh? Maybe next time Hotwire." Mere let out a breathy chuckle as she watched the last of the pilots make their way into the briefing room. She did a quick scan picking up the new guy who was leaning against one of the walls. Only a few minutes later, did the door in the far back corner open and in walked the base commander. The hushed conversations died down instantly as he stood at a podium. He looked at the officer manning the computer who quickly logged to start the briefing.

"All right guys, I'll let you in on some juicy info. One of the new guys was found guilty by the International Union Peacekeeping Force's court martial. It's official now. He is the murderer of Harling in the flesh." A few whistles and ooh's followed this statement while Mere tensed up as she glanced over at Sinker. She studied him for a second when she glanced over to the other new guy. She hadn't really thought too much about Harlings death as she was in the middle of her own court-martial, but she was a fan of him. Even if she was too young to understand his politics while he was president, her aunts and uncles spoke fondly of him. She knew that her grandfather had met President Harling when he was on the original OFS Kestrel, but she never got the full story. Looking him over, it still didn't add up. He was sitting quietly, arms crossed with a frown yet his eyes held this anger and annoyance.

McKinsey waited for the commotion to die down before he continued, the screen displaying a picture of the new guy's personal emblem. One is a fox holding a gun in its mouth while the other was a fish swimming around a missile, "Their TAC name's are Trigger and Sinker. Now, as of today, they may be attached to the Osean Air Force Base 444 Squadron, but that's just some symbolic bullshit. It doesn't really matter if Trigger's Harling's murderer or not. Every last one of you has been incarcerated for one reason or another." He paused, glancing around the room before he continued. "A few of you in the penal unit know how to fly, and HQ needs to plug the deficit in our air force. So they proposed sending you guys on a reconnaissance mission to the Waiapolo Mountains. But that idea was flat out rejected. No, you'll be atoning for your crimes right here at this base. This base is a decoy designed to draw enemy fire. And, as members of this base, you'll be taking hits from the enemy. This will allow our forces to safely prepare a counterattack."

Mere only rolled her eyes at his last statement. Atonement for their crimes? The majority of the convicts here were in for petty crimes with a few being more egregious crimes from what she could gather. Yet everything they were doing at the base felt like they were sent to death row. Forced to go up into hostile skies with nothing but your radars to give a 'stern and semi-threatening talk' to the enemy.

Before the briefing could continue, the ground beneath them shook followed by a low rumble in the distance. The lights began to flicker while some of the new pilots jumped to their feet. As soon as the alarm went off one of the guard pulled the door open yelling "Incoming!"

"Shucks, we must be quite popular," Tabloid commented next to Mere. She let out a scoff as she leaned forward tapping each thud she heard in the distance counting the number of holes they will be filling later.

"Switch off that alarm!" McKinsey ordered. "The usual huh… I thought Zapland was supposed to be an isolated area. And to think we had a few days without an incident. Damn it." The alarm was soon cut off after a few more seconds when McKinsey looked up at the pilots. "Okay, I'm gonna need a few aircraft to scramble."

"Again?" A pilot spoke up causing the others to voice their own protest.

"Tch, more meat into the grinder huh," Mere grunted and Full Band shook his head.

"Anything else beats solitary, that's for sure," he commented as he rubbed his hands against his knee.

"Wonder how many more will die today," Count scowled as he got up as McKinsey continued.

"We just need to make it look like we can put up a fight. Some of those piles of junk on the runway can at least take off. Let's get the guiltiest cons in the sky first." His gaze shot over to Trigger and then to Mere. For some reason, she felt like a knot was tied in her stomach. "We'll start with Harling's murderer. We don't expect you to down any bombers. But what we do want is to make them think that we've got an active base here. Hotwire, show Trigger to his plane in hanger four. Dismissed."

Show the new guy around? Mere thought, Why me of everyone here? I'd rather keep some distance with a convicted murderer…

"Hey, Hotwire right?" Looking up, Trigger was standing in front of her. Blinking a bit she cleared her throat before nodding. His voice was softer than she thought but looks could be deceiving she reminded herself. "So are you gonna sit there or will you show me to my plane?"

"Uh right, yeah, this way." Jumping to her feet, she followed the rest of the pilots out of the main building to the hangers. She watched as pilots split off towards hanger two while Champ, Full band, and few other spares duck into hanger three. Reaching the fourth hanger she saw that Count had finished gearing up and was already in his cockpit strapping up with High Roller not far behind. Tabloid patted her shoulder as she rushed off to his Mirage. Making their way to the back, she eyed that the Tomcat was finished being loaded up with some AIM-7 sparrows and regular missiles. Glancing at the tail, Mere had a number of feelings churn in her seeing three sin lines painted on.

"A Tomcat?" Trigger asked before frowning. "I'll need a wizzo."

"You're looking at her, come on and get in," Mere said, nodding her head to the plane as she went for the ladder.

"Then where's our gear?"

Mere froze as it finally dawned on her, she didn't have a locker for her gear. Typically she'd already be fully suited up for the briefing so they can head straight for their planes. But having no pilot to fly with she always attended with no gear. Hell, she wasn't even given a locker to store her stuff in anyways.

"Wait shit, gear, we need some gear!" She groaned out loud as she gripped her head. She paced thinking she had some time to run to storage to see if there's some sets, but she didn't know if there were any spares and if there were, where. The hanger began to rattle as distant bomb blast reminded her of their tight schedule. She would have tried to tough it out without a G-suit but no helmet meant no oxygen which was a deal breaker. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute trying to think of a solution when one of the ground crew came running up from the back of the hanger carrying a stack of cardboard boxes.

"Hotwire! New guy!" The young boy yelled, his shrill voice barely audible over the sound of Count's spooling engines.

"Mouse?" She gave him a confused look when he shoved the box into her hands and the other into Trigger's.

"When we started to arm the Cat, I ran and got the extra helmet and suit we had when you shipped here!" he explained and she brightened up immediately. Mere excitedly ripped the top of the box off like a kid during Christmas. Inside she found a G-suit which she threw on in record time, a pair of gloves which she quickly stuffed into a pocket and to her surprise, it was her helmet. On the front was her tac name in black lettering in a red outlined box. Underlining it was a red wire that had a short under the i. On the side of her helmet were some black wings, the edges highlighted with a orangish red, while on the back is her own personal emblem, a bust of a Kestrel adorned with a black valkyrie helmet. Yanking it on, she looked to Trigger seeing he was already ducked under the nose of the plane and was making his way up the ladder. Mere quickly followed him and slid into the rear seat. In one fluid motion, she plugged her radio into the plane and flipped on the battery power. Twisting side to side, she quickly got the seat's straps over her shoulder before glancing over to verify the ladder was pulled away from the plane. Making a quick sweep of the edge of the cockpit, she called "Canopy!"

Trigger paused and looked back at her, an eye brow raised. "Are you clear of the canopy?" she clarified.

"Clear," he calmly called as he looked forward again. Glancing down, Mere flipped a switch closing the canopy. Taking a shaky breath in, Mere was surprised how excited she was to get back to the sky.

"Well, this is a new experience," Trigger commented as he looked around, seeing the mule hook to the front wheel and dragged the Tomcat out of the hanger. He squinted his eyes a bit as the noe of the plane was dragged out into the sun when they came to a halt. Looking to the side, he saw the mule drive away before the ground crew gave him a thumbs up. His eyes darted across the multitude of switches in the cockpit when he finally found the engine start up switch. The first engine began to whine to life and he carefully watched as the dials came to life.

"Assuming you were a single seater before?" Mere asked, leaning her head to the side to try and look at Trigger as the second engine began to whine up.

"Single seat, single engine," Trigger chuckled a bit as he wracked his brain again about the start up procedure for the second engine. Watching the RPM's fall to a normal level he kicked the other engine on and waited for the RPM's to settle before he taxied the plane out. "Last time I had another soul on board was back in the academy. Having an extra pair of eyes could be useful." Powering up a few displays, she began her usual routine.

"Tower, Hotwire, radio check." Mere asked, glancing around seeing the other pilots were lining up to taxi towards the runway. She never really paid too much attention whenever they had to scramble some planes since was either working, or finding some form of cover to duck into. She never saw how much of a shit show this actually was.

"We hear you, Hotwire," control replied. "Taxi to the runway now. Check your altimeter and wait in front of the runway."

"You heard that Trigger?" Mere asked and he gave a thumbs up. He started to pull forward towards the runway joining the queue of other planes.

"Control, would you kindly send me up first?" Count asked near the front of the line, seemingly both annoyed and bored.

"Wha- The hell is he doing?" Trigger grunted as he suddenly kicked the nose of the plane over to avoid the plane that was pushing through. Mere's helmet clunked against the canopy and she let out a grunt as she wasn't expecting the sudden move. Looking over to her side, she saw Champ push his way through. Annoyed, she flipped him the bird. Shaking her head, she glanced over at the fake runway spotting the bombers. Seemed strange, they looked like they were making their way closer to the main base.

"Spare 8! Champ! This is the control tower!" control finally snapped at him. "You are not cleared for takeoff, obey orders!"

"Go to hell!" Champ bellowed in response, ignoring the warning as he rolled onto the runway.

"All aircraft preparing for takeoff, watch out for Spare 8! He's forcing a takeoff!" Control sounded frustrated by Champ's actions, rightly so yet there wasn't anything they could do to enforce their orders.

"What the hell even is this base…" Trigger sighed as he put his oxygen mask on.

"Welcome to Spare I guess…" Mere threw her hands up and shook her head just as flabbergasted.

Count radioed in again, his plane right in front of the Tomcat. "I'll take up command," he said, leading the way for the remaining aircraft on the runway. "Any objections?"

"I've got one. That bet still stands correct?" Mere looked over at Count's Su-33

"What bet?" Trigger looked back at Mere and then to Count's plane.

"Tch, we'll see," Count grumbled.

"Who knows, maybe Sinker is the guy," Tabloid chipped in with a chuckle. "Besides, that'll all get decided in the skies. Hehe..."

"Touché," Count let out an amused huff as he took off followed by Tabloid. It was Trigger's time and Mere reconfirmed that their instruments worked.

"Trigger, your call sign is Spare Fifteen. Consider it your prisoner number for the air."

"Hmm… Trigger, Spare 15, copy."

"Hotwire, Spare 15, copy," Mere said when she thought she heard a light chuckle from Trigger. "What's so funny?"

"This whole thing is rather amusing." She could almost tell that he was smirking under his oxygen mask. "No command structure means we're free to do what we want."

"Free?" Mere furrowed her brow a bit when the ATC came back on the radio.

"Spare 15, runway is clear! Take off immediately. Commencing deception and interception." With a click, the ATC closed the chanel

"Better be good, Trigger. I've flown with Aces you know." Mere chuckled a bit as she gripped one of the handlebars.

"Aces huh?" Throttling up, the familiar roar of the afterburner rattled through the cockpit. "I'll give you a show then," Trigger smiled as the wheels began to roll. Down the runway the Tomcat began to roll. Mere felt herself relax feeling the semi-familiar acceleration push her back into her seat and she quite enjoyed it compared to the rather violent take off the catapult gave the plane. The cockpit rattled as they picked up speed when it all smoothed out as they went wheels up, yet Trigger leveled off just a few feet above the runway. The hydraulics whined as the gear was being pulled up.

"Trigger…?" Mere checked her instruments seeing the speedometer climb before looking off to the side seeing they hadn't climbed far. "Trigger?"

"Lets dance," was all he said before he yanked back on the stick pushing the Tomcat into a climb. Mere nearly doubled over from the unexpected G's before she managed to lean back squeezing her legs with a grunt.

"Fucking hell!" Mere grunted before they rolled right and leveled off. Taking the brief bit of calm to silently curse her pilot, she quickly went to work flipping some more switches and turning on the radar. The air was full of fighters both friendlies and enemies. This is the first time she's seen the enemy ever focus on the main base. In her ear, the radio crackled to life as Champ's voice came through.

"Wooohooo! My blood's boilin'!" Glancing to at her radar, she saw Champ's ID off to her left. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Champ was already moving to chase down some of the fighters.

"Toss the chump into solitary when he lands!" she heard the ATC growl. She let off a light chuckle as she took in her surroundings. If it wasn't for the fact they were currently under attack, she's happy that she's back in her second home away from home.

"So, you at least remember the roles in tandem from the academy right, Trigger?" Flipping the master arm on she tested the stick seeing that the radar slew was working.

"I got the guns, and heaters, you got everything else," he calmly said but sighed. "Not that it matters all that much. Seems like the FCS is still locked."

"What!?" Mere quickly went to lock up an enemy MiG in the distance and tried to pull the trigger to send off a SAAM, yet there was no clunk, no smoke, nothing. "The hell is the base commander thinking!?"

"No FCS again huh?" Count's voice came across the radio with a sigh. Off to their left, he pulled up in the lead position. "Welp, we're acting as bait again today boys. This will be another long day…"

"Damn it all!" Full Band spat, a light thud could be heard over the radio as he hit something while Tabloid gave a nervous laugh.

"How fortunate of us, the commanders being extra lenient on us today. Gotta love it," he sighed.

"The hell are we supposed to do without weapons?" Trigger growled a bit when a new voice to Mere and Trigger came over the radio.

"Prisoners use nothing without supervision," The voice was harsh and cold. Mere tried to rack her brain where she's heard that voice before, "Not even a pencil." Moving to join this sorry excuse of a formation, High Roller soon spoke up.

"And here comes Harling's murderer."

"I didn't kill Harling," Trigger growled back. Looking up from her position, Mere peered at the mirror that was set up in the front to try and get a look at Trigger. She was happy enough to get back into the air, she never considered how she felt about flying with a murderer, or without weapons. His eyes held anger yet there was also this tiredness to them. Their eyes met briefly and she looked back down at the radar suit. They were approaching the fake runway and it appeared some of the fighters had taken notice of their approach.

"He put two missiles right between old Harling's eyes!" Full Band mused.

"Always in the know, aren't you Full band?" Count came back to the coms. "In this war, intel is a

life or death matter."

"Cut the chatter and engage the enemy," a that same voice from earlier cut in again

"Whatever you say, Bandog," Tabloid chirped as the spare squadron and just dispersed. Mere watched as they all just split away to do their own thing, none of them even having a wingman to cover them. Count had followed Champ loosely but they seemed mostly to play close to each other the others split off to their own corners. Left on their own, Mere was brought back when Bandog came back over the radio.

"Spare 15, Bandog, I'll handle surveillance. The bombers that attacked the runway are coming back for another round. You guys just need to make a lot of noise, just make them think there are fighters at the base." He chuckled a bit darkly. " And if any of you die, think of it as you atoning for your crimes."

"And what if we just fly out of here?" Trigger asked as he banked towards one of the bombers.

"Then your IFF will be tagged as an enemy for all allied squadrons and you will be shot down. Don't try anything stupid."

"Righto," Count radioed back when the missile warning system began to beep.

"Shit, missile, 1 o'clock!" Mere yelled. She tensed her body up and braced expecting any move. She was violently pushed right as Trigger rolled the plane to the left and dove trading altitude for energy. Grunting, she craned her neck to look back to watch the missile. The white trail got closer as Trigger continued his evasion, bringing the missile lower before he suddenly pulled up. Mere relaxed a bit as she watched the missile sail under them too far away to proxy on them. "Missile evaded!" letting out a sigh, Trigger put the plane into a gentle turn when Tabloid came back on the radio.

"Hey, I got someone on my tail. I could use a hand here!" Tabloid's voice was a bit labored from the G's he's pulling trying to evade his pursuer.

"I'm busy," one pilot called.

"Deal with it yourself, my hands are full!"

"Five bucks and I'll come over to help."

"Just hit your afterburner and run, Spare 11."

"Oh come on!" Tabloid groaned in defeat while Mere looked down at her radar.

"Spare 11… Er, Tabloid, swing him North and we can pounce him!" Mere radioed while flipping through a few switches and grabbed her stick. Without any hesitation, Trigger rolled the plane over and pulled to come up on the MiG-29's tail. Working in the back, Mere was busy trying to lock him up. "Jink right Tabloid!"

Tabloid rolled his Mirage over and dove away while Trigger stayed glued to the Fulcrum's tail. It rolled left and right trying to break the lock when the radar started to track some chaff. "Oh no you don't!" Mere growled a bit as she relocked the Fulcrum. With another grunt, she took a second to check their six seeing another bomber escort, a Su-33 was coming to aid their ally. "Break left, Trigger, we got one coming for our ass!"

"Got it," he acknowledged before breaking off the enemy. Twisting in her seat, Mere tried to get eyes back on the Su-33. "Come on, where is he, Hotwire."

"I'm trying! Uuhm, ah, Bandit's on our right still closing- Shit, smoke in the air!" Mere stomach seemed to flip a bit as Trigger aggressively went on the defensive again. Deploying flares the missile initially tracked the Tomcat when it suddenly diverted went after a flare exploding behind harmlessly behind aircraft. The shockwave shook the plane when the SU-33 broke off of them as a Mirage swooped in onto its tail.

"Spare 15, I've got your back!" Tabloid let out a triumphant laugh as he continued to push the Su-33 away. "The enemy seems to think that our air force is concentrated on this base!" Tabloid spoke up again on the coms a bit more cheerful.

"Everything on the ground is fake. Can't the enemy see that?" Full Band cut in again sounding a bit annoyed but rightly so.

"I have to agree. No mission against a base this large should have a near 100% survival rate," Mere added as she was watching their six.

"Means they're really that convincing." Tabloid added when he suddenly grunted. "Ah, Hotwire, on your six!"

Looking back, that MiG-29 they were chasing had pulled around and was slotting in on their six.

"Shit, Trigger!"

"I heard him." he called as he began to fly away towards one of the bombers that were bombing them, a Tu-95.

"Give me a sec, I'll be right there!" Tabloid called. Trigger was jinking left and right ever now and then as the Fulcrum got closer when Trigger spoke up again.

"Trail a bit Tabloid, there's something I want to try."

"Oi, dumbass you've got a passenger!" Mere shouted from the back.

"Trust me. Be ready to drop flares," he said calmly. Behind them, their RWR beeped and whined every now and then as the fulcrum got closer before a lock. "Come on… come on…! Shoot damn it…!"

Mere was craning her neck left and right keeping the pursuing aircraft in view when the RWR started to beep as he got a solid lock. A puff of smoke erupted under the wing of the fulcrum followed by the missile alarm in the cockpit.

"Missile, Trigger!" Looking forward, Mere took in a sharp breath as she saw they were closing alarmingly fast at a Bear. "W-Wait what are you-"

"Deploy flares!" he commanded. On instinct, Mere hit the countermeasures button dumping chaff and flares at the same time he pulled up slightly. The rumble of the bear's propellers came and went quickly as they passed over it. The Tomcats airframe rumbled as the missile behind them detonated. Whipping her head around Mere couldn't believe what she saw. One of the bears engines was trailing smoke burning yet it started to yaw and pitch down. Not long it nosed down into an uncontrolled dive, ripping a wing off and smashing into the desert below.

"The hell was that explosion? Did someone get shot down?" Sinker asked over the radio.

"Holy shit, Spare 15 just splashed a bomber!" Tabloid excitedly called which was followed by shock from the other pilots.

"No way. Does he have his FCS unlocked?"

"He's got Hotwire in the cockpit with him, maybe she did something to the computer," Another accused.

"Confirmed, bomber down," Bandog confirmed while Count only huffed. "What the hell…?"

"Leave it to the murderer to find a way to kill even without weapons. That was just dumb luck." He grunted a bit as he somewhat skillfully maneuvered his plane around dodging another missile.

"Hot damn, gunna have to rethink the odds on this one!" High Roller butted in. "So much for betting who's gonna get the first kill."

"Holy shit Trigger, how'd you know that was gonna work," Mere asked as she leaned forward to get a look at him.

"Well uh…" Mere glanced down, seeing that his hand on the throttle was shaking a bit. "I didn't. Well… Kinda," he let out a nervous chuckle as she gained altitude to look around. Mere soon spotted the others were doing all right, they haven't lost any planes yet but that could change at any second without being able to use weapons. It was then that she noticed that bombers had moved over the main runway.

"H-Hey there's bombers over the runway!" Dookie called out just as bombs began to land around the runway, one of them hitting close to the main building and the base of the control tower.

"Shit…!" Bandog called, the radio going a bit staticy when McKinsey's voice also came over the radio, muffled explosions can be heard through the microphone.

"Hey! What's with all the shaking?!" he demanded. In the background, someone gave the order to send in the fire team. McKinsey growled at Bandog and Spare Squadron, "Do not let the enemy get any closer! Are you cons trying to kill me?" There was a click as he signed off but there's no response from Bandog.

"Hey, Bandog, you you still alive? Be a real shame to die before us convicts" High Roller asked.

"Only I decide when I die. And this goes for you. Your life is in my hands," Bandog coldly responded before grunting in annoyance. "Shall I order them to shoot them all down?" Bandog asked the commander. There was a long pause as Trigger banked around looking at one of the bombers. Bandog waited a moment before he asked again, "Commander? Commander McKinsey?" Silence. Mere began to wonder if their act was up and the bombers figured their actual target, or if it was time to let the dogs off their leash to hunt. Even with the goddamn daredevil of a pilot she has, having to watch for missiles and lock up the enemy was only going to help them survive for the short while and it wasn't going to let them get anywhere. Sitting back, Mere couldn't help but wonder if this was all they were going to do before dying. Her train of thought when she noticed a new message one of her MFD's followed up with Bandog's orders.

"They even tried to kill me… Spare Squadron, listen up. Shoot down everything carrying bombs. Weapons free. You're cleared to engage. Show no mercy."

Mere had locked up the Bear that Trigger was lining up before she pulled the trigger. A clunk was heard as a SAAM dropped from the pylon before its rocket motor ignited, speeding off towards the bear. "Lion-8, fox-1!" she excitedly yelled over the radio when the sparrow slammed itself into right behind the wings causing a massive explosion and fireball that disintegrated the whole plane. There was a collective gasp and cheer from the convicts as Mere let out the breath she held. Only then did she realize just one small mistake, "er, Spare-15, splash."

"Look at that, Harlings murder did it again!" High Roller pointed out.

"Oi, my kill!"

"Our" Trigger corrected as he quickly rolled the plane and went after a fighter.

"Come on, let's show 'em what we're made of!" Champ cheered while Count laughed.

"Right o', I'm not losing that bet. Count, engaging," he chirped, rolling off to go after the escorts. "Alright, I'm assuming command. All aircraft support me."

"Who's gonna dance to your lyin' tune?" Champ cut in as he was dog fighting with another escort. While Count only laughed in response.

"I'll show you all how it's done once I get top frag. Just you watch, Hotwire." Mere could only roll her eyes. If she wasn't busy aiding Trigger in the dogfight they were in she'd throw a retort but their actions will speak for them.

"Tone, Spare-15, fox-2," Trigger calmly called as he pulled the Tomcat a bit harder before releasing the missile from the rails. Mere flexed her leg muscles in the turn and watched the missile fly true and up the tailpipe of the enemy Fulcrum. How the hell could he be so calm and talk normally while pulling these G's? She was ripped out of her thoughts and nearly out of her seat as he kicked the rudder and rolled to the left again continuing the high G turn getting onto the tail of another fighter and quickly shot another missile off. The fighter jinked to avoid it but made the mistake of moving right into Trigger's guns. The vulcan roared under their cockpit spitting out 20mm high explosive shells which ripped a line from the leading edge of the wing and across both engines igniting them. "Splash two more."

Not wanting to be out done, Mere saw that there were two more bombers in front of her. Locking the closest up first, Mere tapped the trigger letting one SAAM off the rail and waited a second before tapping again launching another SAAM. "Spare 15, fox-1, fox-1!" The first flew true slamming into the bomber's wing, clipping it off and sending the Bear into a death spiral. Quickly, she locked up the other Bear hoping the other SAAM was still in the radar cone. She watched the missile initially trail downward before it snapped back upward hitting the bear right behind the bomb bay. As it flew through the smoke the fuselage structure gave out cutting the tail off the plane. The plane went into a climb suddenly ripping the wings off and sending the crew to the desert below.

"Look at that, Spare 15 just made an Ace!" Another spare pilot pointed out. Looking up from her work station, she saw Trigger looking back at her before he raised three fingers. His face was covered by his oxygen mask but she can tell there was a smirk plastered on his face.

"Can confirm, two hostile bombers down, good work Spare fifteen," Bandog confirmed over the radio.

"Trigger, keep an eye on your kill count. We can compare later," Count's smug voice came over the radio again before chuckling. "And no, Hotwire's kills don't count as yours."

"Yeah. I'm betting that report will get dressed up real pretty. Especially since they are self-reported!" Tabloid said with a light chuckle amused by the whole situation.

"Pfft, whatever," Mere grunted when the RWR began to blare at them as they've been spiked before the missile alert joined the tune. Looking back Mere spotted that another Su-33 had slotted in on their six and shot a missile off. "Missile, 7 o'clock high!" With a grunt, she wasn't ready for Trigger to roll over and pull into a dive so suddenly. Recomposing herself in the G's she looked back seeing the missile continue to track towards them. "Dumping chaff-" she was cut off when the RWR stopped blaring and the pursuing fighter was falling away in a fireball. She watched as the missile quickly went straight before self-destructing as it lost its target. Through the smoke flew a Mirage that pulled up to gain altitude.

"Got your back Trigger!" Tabloid called, sounding a bit more chipper than before. Looking up, Trigger pulled the plane up and into a loose formation with Tabloid

"Thanks, I owe you," Trigger said looking over at Tabloid

"Just payback for the earlier save. It's actually nice being able to defend yourself for once though." He chuckled a bit as they took their time to survey the battlefield. The number of enemy planes had dropped and a good number of bombers were shot down. Glancing over, Trigger eyed the single white stripe on Tabloid's tail.

"Say, Tabloid, what's with the line on your tail?" he asked. Tabloid

"Oh these things? They're-"

"Allow me to educate you," Full Band cut off Tabloid, "In this unit, you get your tail marked with scratches." He paused letting his statement sink in, "So, the more scratches, the more heinous the crime. They're called sin lines."

"Sins huh," Mere looked at Tabloid's sin line before glancing at their tail. Even though she can't see them, she still envisioned the three lines marking them. "So what, Trigger and I got 4 sins?"

"Well that all depends on what you did." Full Band continued, "Trigger's Harling's murderer so he's got the most sins out of all of us. As for you Hotwire, I have yet to find out what you've done." Trigger just huffed in response, his shoulders slumping a bit as if he's tired of it all. Was he actually the murderer? Wait, Harling died at the lighthouse in early June, wouldn't that…

Mere's thoughts were cut short as Bandog's voice crackled over the radio. "Shut your mouths and pay attention. A new wave of enemies has been detected, bombers at high altitude coming from the north so stop watching your asses and Look. Up!" Looking down at her radar, she changed the range and finally saw them register. Escorts and a few high altitude bombers.

"I see them," Mere called. Trigger pulled the nose up pointing at the contrails high in the sky. Tabloid had followed behind them trailing ever so slightly. "Three escorts and a single bomber; a Blackjack. Tabloid, can you take an escorts in the head on and then get the spare?"

Tabloid waited a second when the SAAM strapped under his plane ignited and shot off at the right most flanker. Trigger pushed the Tomcat further as he got within missile range. He baited the foe to jink as he let off a burst of cannon followed with a missile. Homing only for a few seconds the missile buried itself into the nose of the flanker exploding in the plane's cockpit. Rolling to avoid the debris, the remaining fighter tried to get a gun kill on them but the shots went short. Flying past, Mere got a lock at the edge of the SAAM range before letting it off the rail.

"Spare 15, Fox 1," she called. Trigger kept the plane steady while Mere maintained lock homing the missile in. The engine cut before a second later the Tu-160 went up in smoke. Instantly checking their six, she saw Tabloid bag the other escort. "15, bomber and escorts are down!"

"Confirmed, bomber and fighters have been eliminated," Bandog confirmed while Champ whistled over the radio.

"At least he's descent at what he's known for," Champ chuckled a bit."Oh this will be quite an upset."

"I wouldn't go that far, targets that slow aren't a challenge. Don't let it go to your head murderer." Count replied with his usual smug tone.

"Hey, those bombers are my kills, thank you very much!" She replied angrily. "If you don't want any wires crossed, then give me some credit."

"Hey, well, a target is a target. Surprised you even got a lock with him flying like that," Count backed down a bit sheepishly while Mere just huffed.

"Will you all shut up and listen. Multiple bandits are inbound. They got bombers and support," Bandog ordered updating the aircrafts radar on the new priority targets and fighters.

"Righto! All aircraft, follow me! That means you too Murderer!" Count's authoritative air came back quickly as he turned to engage the fighters while Tabloid stuck by Trigger's side.

"Jeez, now he thinks he's squadron leader," Tabloid scoffed a bit. "Hotwire, I'll support you. Oh, and you too Trigger. Just keep our wiring good luck charm alive and I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Oi, none of my work is based on luck. These scrapped and mothballed birds are held together with Queens blood and wired up with my sweat and tears." Mere shot back when Trigger spoke up.

"Wait mothballed?"

"Yeah wait, what do you mean by mothballed or scrapped?" Sinker asked as well.

"Oh, yeah welcome to the penal unit, a unit made up of scrapped planes and even scrappier pilots," Full Band mused, "Why do you think we're such a spread of fighters."

"Scrap or not, this is a pretty nice ride. What kind of magic do you two have up your sleeves," Tabloid chuckled as he rocked his wings a bit.

"I don't know what that mechanics problem is, acting like she's royalty or somethin'," High Roller huffed.

Count let off a dry laugh at High Roller's comment. "That's because she's the 'Scrap Queen'."

"'Queen'? Tch, more like a bad-tempered tomboy." High Roller scoffed

"Noted, want me to echo your sentiment to Queen, High Roller?" Mere asked, a light smirk on her face.

"You do that and your bid is forfeit."

"The targets are still active. Shut your mouths and keep up the attack," Bandog interrupted

"This place is weird," Trigger shook his head before looking down at his radar. "Okay, Tabloid, can you focus on the bombers? I'll deal with the fighters. You up for that?"

"Huh? Oh uh, yeah. Sounds fine to me. Keep my covered then," he said, trailing a bit further behind. Throttling up, Mere looked at the radar. There were four fighters escorting two bombers. Two MiG-29's and two more Su-33's were their escort. Flicking a few switches, she narrowed the search band and picked out one of the leading planes. Waiting until they were in range, she quickly locked the bomber behind the pulled the trigger, releasing a SAAM. "Spare-15, fox-1!" Smoke was thrown over the canopy as the missile climbed a bit to engage the bomber when she reselected a fighter still within the radar's cone. She watched as the pilot suddenly reacted by being spiked but it was too late as the missile slammed itself into the aircraft. "Splash!" She called and quickly locked up another plane, she launched another missile, "Fox-1 again".

The other MiG-29 began to defend yet at that distance and angle, there was very little they could do other than breaking the radar lock. "Splash!" Mere yelled triumphantly before she leaned back in a braced position, her hand ready on the countermeasures as the remaining two Su-33s entered within her engagement range. "All up to you Trigger!"

"Leave it to me, lock up the lead plane," he said calmly. Gripping the stick a bit tighter, he picked the wingman as his first target. Hearing Mere confirm the lock on the lead plane, he launched a standard missile forcing them to go on the defensive. Taking in a breath he entered the merge with the enemy's wingman. With a grunt and careful footwork, Trigger snap rolled the Tomcat. Yanking back on the stick, he pushed the Tomcat into the high-G turn trying to bring the nose around. The Erusean was in the more maneuverable plane over a Tomcat but he made the mistake by reacting too slowly. The Tomcat wings extended giving Trigger the nose authority to pull around and point it at the target. Even when she braced, Trigger's movements kept surprising her. They were fast and aggressive yet still remained precise. There's some correction here and there but there was no huge overcorrection to his actions. The only thing she was questioning now was if he even had blood running in his veins. Fighting the G's, Mere managed to get a radar lock and he sent the missile at him

"Fox-2!" The missile flew true and straight into the engines of the Flanker causing it to burst into flames. A second later, a plume of white streaked away from the plane as the pilot ejected. "Splash!"

"Good kill, now where-" before Mere could look back, yellow tracers zipped past the cockpit. Ducking in her seat, Mere cursed while Trigger hammered the throttle forward and kicked the plane to the right. Looking back, Mere spotted the other Flanker as it glued itself to their tail. "I got eyes! He's coming in from the right, five o'clock high!"

Trigger pulled the plane up into a slight climb before he rolled over and dove to the left. He craned his head getting eyes on the perusing plane. Spotting the belly of the plane, Trigger jinked again narrowly avoiding the stream of deadly 30mm cannon shells. Rolling it back around, he pulled the throttle back and flipped the air brake. "Lets see how fast we can stop."

"Hey, now wait a min-" Mere eyes were glued to the perseusing plane her head whipping itself from shoulder to shoulder to keep the plane in view. She saw the air brake extend when Trigger suddenly threw the plane hard to the right dumping their airspeed. The hydraulic systems whined as the wings went from their semi seeped position to fully extended. Trigger swung the stick around to the other side and pushed down pulling some negative G's to get the nose to point in the right direction before yanking back hard violently dumping even more speed. "Triiiiiggeeerr!" Mere yelled from the back seat as her body first tried to rip through her seats harness to then try to push her through the seat and out of the aircraft. Getting her bearings she saw the Flanker suddenly over shoot them. Pushing the throttle forward, the afterburners light again giving them energy to maneuver and pursue the Flanker. The enemy plane was slow as he tried to match Trigger's speed which made it easy for him to stay glued to the enemy's tail. He didn't make it any easier though as the pilot jinks every time Trigger was about to line up his gun sight on target.

"He's good, I'll give them that," Trigger commented when he noticed their airspeed was dropping quickly, "However." As soon as he saw the Flanker level its wings, he cut the throttle and engaged the air brake just before the nose of the Flanker began to swing upwards as it tried to perform a cobra. Rolling the plane slightly and pulling up the nose, Trigger peppered the aircraft from the engine and up the fuselage with 20mm cannon fire before juking the burning wreck.

"Holy shit!" Mere shouted as her head whipped around watching the Flanker burning body fall out of the sky.

"Well, look at that, Triggers got some moves on him," Tabloid commented, quite amazed.

"Hotwire, you're not passing out from a little combat maneuver right," Count teased a bit.

"Please, I crushed the g-test in the academy," Mere grunted as she got her bearings again. Looking at the tac map, she saw Tabloid had finished off his bombers and was rejoining them.

"Trigger, don't get shot down now! I got good money riding on your survival." High Roller laughed. "Some guys have got big money on you going down, so watch your back."

"Spare 7, Shut. up." Bandog growled at him and Trigger just let out a sigh.

"What's with all these bets for anyway? I've barely been here a few days."

"Oh just one way us convicts can let off some steam and have fun. Sorta a tradition around here, Ya know? The guards and even Bandog are in on it."

"Spare 7, I believe I told you to shut up already," Bandog angrily shot back at High Roller.

"Eh, whatever you say," High Roller chuckled as he cut his mic.

"You'll pay for this," Bandog coldly replied.

"Makes you feel any better, I bet for your survival and being the top dog around here. Got four instant creamers, 10 bucks, and 5 insta coffees riding on this," Mere let off a chuckle as she checked on their missile reserves and the current radar picture. Good number of standards were left with a few SAAMs in reserve. Glancing at the radar, she quickly counted up the numbers and it seemed no one in spare was shot down yet.

"What the hell are you doing?!" McKinsey's voice suddenly came back over the radio demanding out of nowhere. "Are you trying–"

"Wilco. Commander McKinsey," Bandog had quickly cut McKinsey off. "Please maintain silence for the moment."

Mere let out a snort as she never thought she'd see the day when someone managed to shut their base commander up.

"C'mon, the last set of bombers is making their way to the base," she said, taking in a deep breath to try and calm herself down. She hasn't had to work this hard in a plane in a long time. Her legs ached from how much she's been squeezing them to fight the G's Trigger was putting the plane through. Approaching the last group, Tabloid took the lead and went after the fighters, opening a hole for Trigger and Mere to slip through. Locking up the bomber, she let the Sparrow off the rail, shooting down another Bear. Trigger repositioned the aircraft and took the final bear down with a volley of standards. Getting clear of the wreckage, he snapped the plane around to assist Tabloid. Mere was fast to lock up one of the fighters and sent out one of their remaining SAAM's at them. A trail of white rocketed away from the play ending in a plume of black and orange as it slammed into the Flanker. The plane Tabloid was chasing soon also went down as he gunned it down, the 30mm cannon rounds clipping a wing off. As Trigger swung the nose to point at the last escort, he saw it had broken off and was running away in full retreat.

"Remaining fighters have turned tail. All targets confirmed eliminated," Bandog announced. Mere let out a breath as she listened to the cheers of the other convicts. Leaning back, she pulled her oxygen mask off and shut her eyes for a second. She hasn't felt this exhausted since her academy days. Her thoughts drifted thinking she was getting soft but another idea popped in as she looked at her temporary pilot.

"Hell yeah! Still with us Harlings Murderer?" High Roller asked.

"Still kicking," he responded flatley as he looked back at Mere and held up five fingers and then two. Mere smirked and held up three fingers while Trigger only shook his head.

"Then dinner's on me tonight!"

"But this food's free," Sinker added and let out a breath.

"Cut the chatter. You'll have plenty of time to do that on the ground. Spare squadron, RTB." Bandog grunted.

"Hmm… Got it," Mere mumbled when she gasped. "Oh, would you look at that!" she sarcastically gasped as she pressed her face against the cockpit.

"Trigger's still with us, must have the devil in his rear seat," Bandog let out a dark chuckle.

"Oh eat my ass, Bandog," Mere growled back when she took a second to think. "If any of you fuckers say anything I will beat your ass."

"Hey, Spare 7, what happens if the one you've bet on dies while landing?"

"Well, then you win," High Roller responded calmly. "So… What, you're not done?"

There was a moment of silence before Bandog responded, "Just checking, that's all."

"Hmph… Just checking."

Over the radio the tower was calling each pilot down by call sign leaving Trigger and Mere extra time to loiter. Running a race track around the base, Trigger spoke up.

"So, Hotwire, what's this bet I keep hearing about?" He looked up at the mirror to her before down again as he brought the plane into a gentle turn.

"Oh that? Few days ago when we heard that we were getting nuggets, one of y'all was quite a hotshot. My gut said one of them would be special and could top Count, our current Ace of sorts."

"He talks big. Flying… Well not terrible but quite rough," he chuckled a bit. "You weren't terrible back there either. Mudhens?"

"Rhinos. I'm a navy girl," stretching her arms forward she grinned a bit as she looked up at the mirror, "And that's a one kill lead on you, Trigger."

"The first bear didn't count?"

"Not your missile," looking out of the canopy, she watched spare 13 touch down onto the runway meaning it was their turn coming up. It was exciting to be back up in the air doing what she liked. But she knew she shouldn't get too attached to this shift. Knowing how things will work, the ground crews will get another plane like one of the single seaters they have in progress. Maybe he'll take a Super Hornet like Fullband, maybe an F-16. He could probably make that F-15 dance like an angel…

"Spare-15, this is the control tower, make your landing checks. We don't want a wreck blocking the runway," the tower called. Mere glanced up at Trigger as he responded and began to go over everything. pulling around, he lowered flaps and the gear before lining up on the runway. "Spare-15, you have permission to land. Wind is calm so don't mess this up."

"Dick," Mere muttered as they approached. With a light flare, Trigger set the wheels down gently. He began to taxi back towards the hangers when Bandog came over the radio again.

"I lost a lot of money for that. Don't forget." With a click the line ended and Trigger sighed.

"Some welcome that Bandog fella left me."

"And it sounds like I got quite the upset win," Mere chuckled a bit. Trigger pulled the plane around to the fourth hangar where a number of planes were waiting, their canopy up and ladders pushed up to the cockpit. Powering down, Mere hit the switch opening the canopy and ripped herself out of the seat's harness. Pulling her helmet off she sat it in her lap and ran a hand through her hair as she made sure everything was powered off and clipped her helmet to her gear, she hoisted herself out of the seat, she made her way down the ladder. Once her feet hit the ground she did a quick walk around the plane. She paused near the rear as she nervously laughed looking at a new 30mm hole in one of the elevators. She paused again when she saw three scrapes and dents besides their cockpit. One angled for the pilot and two for the WSO on the back. Mere took in a shaky breath as she couldn't rip her eyes away from it when she felt something touch her shoulder. Recoiling, she turned around and took a step back just to find Trigger who had a concerned look.

"Hey, you good?" he asked calmly. His face remained neutral yet his eyes held some worry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mere's eyes darted down as she tried to compose herself. Her hands felt clammy and cold but she tried to brush it off. "Just… thinking about the work that needs to be done to repair her." She ran a finger against the scratched metal while she clenched her free hand into a fist to try and calm her.

"Yeah that uh… Those rounds were kinda close," Trigger let out an uneasy chuckle as he took notice of the damage. "But we're still here and both are still alive. I think that's a pretty good day."

"Yeah. You're right." Looking at the ground, Mere nodded to herself before turning around, spotting Count, Tabloid, and High Roller walking over to them.

"Murderer!" Count called out once they were in ear shot, "You done thinking about where to paint your kill tallies?" Trigger glanced back at the group. Count had a hard unimpressed expression as if he wasn't impressed by Trigger in the least. It seemed to have soften a bit as he glanced at Mere but Trigger thought he was seeing things. "Well come along back to the briefing room. Commander McKinsey has a god awful temper so let's get moving."

"That and he's pretty pissed he lost that bet," High Roller chimed in. "Hotwire! I'll get your winnings to you afterwards."

"Afterwards?" Mere looked at High Roller raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! New bets are open: Who's gonna get taken to solitary," he laughed as he turned around to head to the briefing. Mere paled a bit as she's so far avoided being sent to solitary confinement. Be a model inmate and you'll do just fine. With a defeated sigh, she walked past Trigger back to the briefing room. It couldn't be that terrible right?