Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - A Bolt From the Blue

Asuna Yuuki had a problem.

Strictly speaking, it was more of a cascade of problems that all stemmed from one very poor decision, but that doesn't sound as succinct over radio, and right now, every moment spent on that, could've been far better used in trying to sort out her problem… her plane was missing a part, which had led to it being on fire, and she needed to leave it!

How today had gone so badly wrong, she struggled to comprehend…

Earlier that week…

Asuna was a model student, and she prided herself on that fact. If you asked her to write an essay and have it back to you the next day, she would ensure it was back to you at the exact time you'd asked for, without a doubt. She would always answer the question she was asked in classes, made sure that her notes were meticulous, and prepared for any eventuality.

What she wasn't, however, was a gamer. Or a pilot, for that matter.

When it came to gaming, she knew enough to know how to use a controller, as well as how to pull off basic attacks in the fighting game that Misumi was fond of, but that was the extent of her knowledge on that front. When it came to flying aircraft, she knew even less. She knew that going too fast was a bad thing, and that long flights were really quite boring. What she didn't know was how to fly a plane, and that was coming back to bite her, right now.

She'd listened to her brother, Kouchirou, explaining ACES Online to their parents over dinner once, and she'd witnessed her mother's apathy towards the project firsthand… or towards gaming in general, actually. Or anything that wasn't ''bettering yourself'' as she'd once put it. He'd rebuked that claim by suggesting that her definition of bettering yourself was in fact bettering your standing in society, and that she should just say what she really meant. The rest of the dinner had been an awkward affair, with very little conversation, but Kouchirou's implication, that bettering yourself wasn't linked to your standing in society, had lit something in her.

A desire to do something more exhilarating. Something like… gaming.

Okay, she admitted she had to start small; it wasn't as if she could just ask her parents to let her go gallivanting off around the world, as tempting as that sounded. She was still the heiress to her family's company, after all. Gaming felt like the perfect way of getting a small degree of freedom, and it wasn't as if she was going to become a delinquent just from playing a few games…

Her mother certainly had different opinions on that, though, having outright told her that any distractions from her studies would be treated harshly, but fairly, and that games were just a way for the unintelligent to pretend they had power before they returned to a life of mediocrity. Asuna doubted that was very likely on both counts, and Kouchirou hadn't seemed all that happy that his own mother was acting like that towards the industry that employed him. Needless to say, he'd become Asuna's biggest supporter when it came to games, which would've been great… had it not been only a few days before the NerveGear launched.

He'd planned to spend about an hour on the system himself when ACES Online launched, setting an account up for both of them, a semblance of cover from their mother, and then let Asuna use it.

That hadn't exactly gone to plan. Kouchirou had been held up at work, and Asuna had been given the go-ahead by him to log straight in and make their account. She'd made an account, and, with an evident lack of experience in MMOs, made their avatar look like her, or as closely as she could, managing to match all but her hair colour, which was now orange, rather than chestnut brown. She did find it odd that a game where players would be in the cockpit of a plane would need an avatar creation system that detailed, but there wasn't one for the planes themselves.

Selecting a country from the starting lineup had proven a task, considering she knew very little about the aircraft, their performance, and how they'd fly, but, after deciding that it wasn't as if they couldn't change planes, went for one on aesthetics alone - the BAC Lightning F.2.

Before she could fly the Lightning, however, she was to be put through the game's tutorials and learn how to fly first. She appeared in the cockpit of a very different looking aircraft just moments after she'd pressed 'accept,' then looked around. The aircraft had side by side seats, a long and straight wing, with a pod at the end of each wing, and appeared to be quite high off the ground.

As she returned her view to facing straight ahead, a man appeared in the seat beside her. The man wore the same green flight suit as she did, but his face was completely obscured by a blacked-out visor and an oxygen mask that had to obstruct his ability to speak…

Remarkably, it didn't, and the instructor, an NPC or Non Playable Character, as Misumi had called the game's characters that weren't people, took her through the basics of starting the aircraft, apparently called the Jet Provost, and, before too long, it was at the runway.

Lined up perfectly, as the instructor had told her, in a very stereotypically British accent, even going as far as rolling his 'r's, before telling her how the takeoff would go: the aircraft would pick up speed, and, at 110 knots, the instructor would call out for her to rotate the aircraft, bringing the nose off the ground and the aircraft into the air, before retracting the landing gear at 125 knots.

As the Jet Provost hit 100 knots, Asuna pulled back on the control column, and the small trainer became airborne, although only barely, as she felt a buffeting through the aircraft, as she climbed out at 20 degrees nose up. The instructor took immediate action and brought the nose down to about 10 degrees, allowing the aircraft to pick up speed and not drop like a rock into the grass beyond the runway. The instructor, having picked up on the fact that she was a newbie and making snide comments whenever she messed up something, had made the rest of the flight a

particularly unpleasant experience for Asuna, and as she got out of the Jet Provost, she made the decision to log out. She wasn't cut out for this, after all.

She opened her menu, and… the log out button wasn't there.

She was a rational person, and realised that, if this wasn't an isolated incident, there'd be people working to fix it. She'd only have to hold out a few hours at most… That had been until everyone in the game had been gathered in the base's main hangar and the situation explained to them. They were trapped. Not only that, but if their avatar died in the game, then so did they. The only way to escape ACES Online was to clear the game's campaign, which involved a bewildering number of missions, numbering into the low thousands apparently. Upon revealing this particular piece of information, the cloaked figure that Asuna assumed had been the game's lead developer, Akihiko Kayaba, made himself very scarce, probably to avoid being beaten by the angry mob gathered in front of him…

He needn't have bothered, given that most of the crowd were too busy having a breakdown to actually do anything, a not unreasonable reaction, Asuna thought.

/-/

Almost two weeks had passed until the hopelessness on the base had started to subside, and people had started to go out and look for the first mission. She'd overheard a number of the players moaning about Kayaba and his questionable decisions. Somehow, she figured they didn't mean trapping them all in a death game, and more likely his design choices…which made her wonder if they had any sense of perspective.

Regardless, she held her tongue and headed to the library. The library in the game was a huge area, larger than the main hangar on the airfield…, and yet she was the only person here. A small smile came to her face as she realised that she had a small hint of normality back in her life and as she read through every book on aviation in the library and made notes on what she felt was important.

As she did so, she began to lose track of time, and, before she was aware, it was 2am. She'd been woken up by the librarian NPC, who'd asked if she'd wished to log out and take a break. She hoped that was just a case of a line of dialogue being left in and not just Kayaba toying with them. Considering what he'd done, she really wasn't sure which it was.

Finding the library had been the end of the good news, as it turned out. The bad news began to pile up as she read about the aircraft she'd chosen. Performance didn't worry her too much (though reading about an engineer who'd accidentally taken off in the aircraft, by moving the throttles too far, hadn't exactly done anything for her anxiety…), but it was handling the aircraft that concerned her. She'd struggled to fly the Jet Provost safely - never mind properly - and that was an aircraft designed to be easy to fly! The Lightning…just wasn't, a fact evidenced by no one else out of almost ten thousand people flying the aircraft. Those that had flown it only flew it briefly, before they converted their EXP to the slower, but far more stable and agile Hawker Hunter.

Asuna herself considered that option briefly, but two obstacles came about. The first was that the Hunter was also a less capable aircraft in air-to-air combat, being subsonic and cannon-armed, with no air-to-air missiles, meaning she'd potentially struggle should she encounter supersonic aircraft.

The second was a more important one - that required having actually flown the Lightning for at least a few flights. So far, she'd managed none, which meant it was time to change that, in her mind…

After a few minutes, she'd found her way to her aircraft, which currently looked quite plain compared to some of the others she'd seen. A natural metal finish ran the length and width of the aircraft, with only a white tail fin, and an olive nosecone, covering the radar, to break up the finish. The Lightning itself was a larger aircraft, having the distinctive feature of its twin Rolls Royce Avon engines stacked on top of each other, which helped to reduce thrust asymmetry, should an engine fail, as the aircraft would not begin to pull to the side that had lost the engine. Its heavily swept-back wings also held the fuel tanks and its main landing gear, the former of which gave the Lightning a relatively short range without the use of its ventral tank, on the belly of the aircraft.

The other downside to the novel engine arrangement, as Asuna was now finding out, was that the Lightning was a narrow aircraft, as she had very little room in the cockpit, her shoulders only barely avoiding hitting switches. With no instructor, but an entire evening of reading the operations manuals for the Lightning, under her belt, Asuna felt confident that she could start the aircraft, and perform a routine flight, albeit armed with only the twin 30mm ADEN cannons, rather than carrying the two Firestreak missiles, usually mounted on the fuselage.

After a few minutes of messing about with switches, buttons, and toggles, the two Avon engines roared to life, and Asuna was soon discovering just how much power the Lightning actually had. Even with her feet firmly on the brakes and the throttle at only the lowest position, around 5% thrust, the aircraft still felt as if it would run away from her as she taxied to the runway.

Lining the aircraft up on the centre line, Asuna took a few deep breaths and said a silent prayer. This could go very badly wrong, and she had no idea just how this would actually perform…

The throttles were opened up, and, almost immediately, the Lightning bolted. Like a racehorse on a track, the Lightning flew forward, and Asuna went flying backwards into the seat. The description she'd read suddenly felt very accurate…; it really was like being saddled to a skyrocket!

Within twenty seconds, the Lightning had accelerated to take-off speed, and Asuna pulled back on the control column, and the aircraft soared airborne. In the Jet Provost, she'd nearly stalled at 20 degrees nose up. In the Lightning, the aircraft continued to accelerate, passing through 350 knots with very little difficulty, as the plane soared upwards through 10,000 feet.

As the plane continued to climb through the ever thinning air, Asuna took the chance to look outside the aircraft. It looked almost the same as when she'd flown before, only dashing by far faster. However, there was something that felt so different, something liberating about this. The only limits she had to worry about were the plane's limits, the sky around her, and that incoming aircraft…''Is that speck another…'' she mumbled to herself, her blood running cold as the realisation set in. She pushed the Lightning into a dive only a split second before impact, far too late to avoid the imminent collision.

Asuna didn't even have time to process what happened next, as her Lightning's vertical stabilizer collided with the aircraft, tearing around two foot off it with a sickening crunching noise. What happened to the other aircraft, she didn't know, as she frantically checked her plane's new performance. Remarkably, despite the collision at 525 knots, around 1000kmh, the Lightning continued to respond as it should, although the aircraft's latitudinal stability was considerably worse, the Lightning beginning to sway as it continued in a straight line…

Knowing that the aircraft was now crippled, Asuna began to fly the aircraft far more gently, performing a turn that a cruise ship would've considered wide and returning on course to the airfield, where she'd be spending some of her very limited supply of EXP on the repair bill, but she'd be safe, and that was more important.

For the next minute or so, the Lightning wallowed around a small amount, but otherwise behaved itself. That was until she noticed an orange glow on her instrument panel and looked back at the rear fuselage, to a sight that would make any pilot's blood run cold - the number one engine, the upper one, was engulfed in flames. Frantically, Asuna shut off that engine as she attempted to fly the Lightning back to the runway, around thirty miles away. Those thirty miles would feel like agony, the distance only inching closer to her, and Asuna prepared for possibly the most terrifying moment of her life - landing a damaged, and burning, plane, on her first solo flight.

The runway came into sight, and Asuna lowered the landing gear, feeling a noticeable weight on the controls, which filled her with yet more dread. The next seconds passed by, and the Lightning descended towards the ground, a soft thump telling her she'd made it…

As remarkable as she felt her landing was, it hadn't stopped the fire from growing increasingly large and engulfing the rear of the airframe as she'd made it. She frantically tried to open the cockpit, but, in her panic, her mind went blank as to where the release switch was, and a thought passed through her head - she could always eject if she had to, right? That was an equally terrifying prospect…

In films, ejecting from an aircraft was always depicted as a last-ditch effort to save yourself, when no other option was available, and give those filmmakers some credit, that it was. But in films, 99% of the time, the person got out safely. However, it was also a far more dangerous prospect, as it involved a perfectly timed system going exactly right, at exactly the right millisecond, to jettison the canopy, before a series of rockets fired you out of the aircraft, and hopefully not through the canopy. It wasn't even over then, because now you were in a seat, exposed to the air around you at high speed and all the aerodynamic forces that entailed, until you and the seat separated and a parachute opened, allowing you to float gently down to earth…you hoped. Or at least, Asuna did. Considering her luck, she didn't even entertain the notion of ejecting.

From halfway across the base, people were beginning to gather on the grass at the end of the taxiway to understand what the hell was going on and where the hell the thick black smoke was coming from. The few who could see the unfolding chaos couldn't do much to help, as the Lightning continued rolling down the taxiway, albeit slowly.

Inside the cockpit, however, Asuna had finally remembered how to unlatch the canopy, and, before she did, she pushed both fire extinguishers, something she'd forgotten to do as the crisis unfolded a few minutes prior. Both extinguishers came to life, spraying the twin Avon engines with foam and shutting them down permanently. Or until they could be rebuilt…which, based off just how bad the fire was outside of the aircraft, probably wasn't an option. The canopy release took only a few seconds, but, in a situation like this, every second mattered. Losing just five of them could be the difference between life and death, and Asuna knew it.

After three seconds, the canopy had opened partially, but got stuck as it did so. The fairly lithe girl was able to fit through the gap, contorting herself as she did, before dropping to the tarmac below. Picking herself up, she could feel the heat from the burning tangle of aluminium that had once been her aircraft, and it was excruciating, as if someone had set a sauna at far too high of a temperature, and, instinctively, her body made the next decision…; she ran away, as fast as her legs would carry her. Those seconds felt like an eternity, each passing slower than the last, until…

BOOM!

The aircraft exploded as the fire reached the ventral fuel tank and ignited the volatile fuel stored, bursting into a fireball that raised several feet above the aircraft. The shock wave generated threw Asuna, and a number of onlookers, off their feet and straight to the ground, whilst the fire had ceased to even loosely resemble an aircraft anymore, just a mangled field of scorched metals and tarmac, surrounded by a ferocious blaze and a number of NPC firefighters.

Asuna looked back at where her Lightning had once been, and not for the first time this week…felt like weeping. In the space of a week, she'd lost not only her whole life and her freedom…, but now she'd lost the one thing she could definitively call hers. The only way this day could get any worse was…

''SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! BOMBERS EN ROUTE!'' The modulated voice over the base's PA system pierced the atmosphere around her, as players ran frantically to their aircraft, most of which were in the hangars on the far ends of the airfield.

Today really wasn't her day, after all...

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - The First Days

(November 6th, 2022)

Kazuto Kirigiya, or as he now went by, Kirito, had a plan. It wasn't a brilliant plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. The chaos that had engulfed the airfield was nothing short of horrendous, and he had no doubts that staying put was a bad idea, given their current circumstances. Why had Kayaba done this, he wondered, as he walked over to the flight line, and picked an aircraft.

In the beta, Kirito had flown a customised F-16C, that he'd had fine tuned to his style of flying by the closest thing to a master mechanic that a month long beta had produced. He'd upgraded the aircraft to the highest he could, allowing him to equip every weapon fit for the aircraft, and was not far off obtaining the next aircraft up - the F-2A.

That was then though, and now, he found himself a newbie like the rest of the players. The highest level aircraft he could see was an F-104J, painted in the Japanese colours, and by that, he meant the closest approximation that Strangereal had to Japanese colours… in other words, it had the Hinomarus, but that was about it.

A few aircraft down the line stood an F-5E, the Tiger II. The F-5 had been developed as a lightweight fighter for the US to supply to allied nations in the 1950s and 1960s IRL, and as a result, the aircraft was the polar opposite to aircraft then in development, being a small, light and agile fighter, with no radar of any kind in the single seat version, only the twin cannons on the nose. That had been the F-5A, which was soon developed into the F-5E, which had significant aerodynamic improvements, more powerful engines, a longer range, a wider variety of weapons, and an, admittedly poor, air-to-air radar. It wasn't much, but it was certainly better than the other options available…

Kirito jumped into the cockpit, and began flicking switches in a well rehearsed routine from his first days in the beta…

(Day One of the ACES Online beta…)

Kirito was a gamer through and through. It was the reason he'd chosen to sign up for the ACES Online beta, and more importantly, it was for that reason he didn't back down from a challenge, and would find a way to power through it when one came his way…

He certainly hadn't been expecting that challenge to be pre flight checks, in a VR environment though. Having launched ACES Online, and developed his avatar to fit him perfectly, he'd immediately chosen the highest level aircraft available at the Reserve level. That had been the F-5A, and now the gamer had found himself walking around an aircraft that looked similar to his F-5A, but not identical. For one thing, the aircraft was longer due to the addition of a second cockpit, which told him the aircraft was either an F-5B, the twin seat version of his F-5A, or a T-38 Talon, an aircraft developed from the same airframe, but for the purpose of an advanced fighter trainer.

A small red decal near the front, of three claw marks, with the characters ''T-38 Talon'' told him it was not an F-5B, and confirmed it to be the training aircraft. Whilst Kirito was busy performing what he hoped were pre-flight checks, a man was now stood by the ladder into the Talon's cockpit.

The man's features were all obscured by the helmet and visor he wore, and the only skin he could see on the man was that around his neck, which suggested he was Caucasian. The man spoke, ''You must be the new recruit. I am Major Zeal.'' his voice confirming another detail - he was American, or at least, his accent was. ''The aircraft in front of you is the T-38A Talon. It's a supersonic jet trainer, and a very agile aircraft. Get in the plane, and I'll walk you through the technical specs of the plane, and its limits, whilst we set it up for the flight.''

Kirito was a guy who'd spent most of his, admittedly short, life so far in front of a computer. Which made the aircraft in front of him a very different creature, as there were very little on the T-38 in regards to computers. Every part of the instrumentation was analogue, and relied on an intricate system of gyros and other mechanical methods, and as a result, Kirito certainly hadn't had an easy time getting the hang of the start up system.

In fact, after logging out for the night, he'd actually spent his time finding a simulator pilot explaining how to start a T-38 in another simulator.

The next day had came, and after returning from school, he'd read over his notes multiple times, and after logging in, set up the T-38 on the first try. Before too long, Kirito had managed to taxi the plane to the runway, and set up the aircraft for take off.

''Ready to go.'' Came the voice from the rear cockpit. With little hesitation, he pushed the two throttles to full power, and held the control stick tight. At 110 knots, the T-38 rose from the runway, and Kirito retracted the landing gear after a few seconds. The instructor seemed impressed, as the T-38 accelerated through 200 knots and passed 3000ft. ''Textbook, trainee.'' he said.

The rest of the flight had been relatively uneventful, at least until Kirito had nearly blacked out in a 9G turn, and sent them careening into the ground. The instructor's tone had been distinctively unimpressed come the beginning of the next flight, almost as if he remembered the 500 mile an hour impact into the forest below...

/-/

All of that had been a very different time. A time when he could mess about, and whilst he was always erred on the side of caution back in the beta, he could throw himself into danger and come out a lot worse for wear from it back then too.

He couldn't do that now. All it took was a single lapse in concentration during a dogfight, and bang. Best case scenario, he was able to eject and live to fight another day. Worst case scenario, he never saw what hit him…

Putting those thoughts out of his head for now, he pictured the route from the main hangar to the runway - straight along X-ray to Juliet 4, then a left turn onto Runway 21. From there, it was as simple as heading on a course to the first airfield he'd found in the beta, which was about fifteen minutes due north. All perfectly normal, he thought to himself…

Which is why his radio going off surprised him just a bit. ''Kii-bou, I know that's you in the F-5.'' The familiar voice of one of the few people he'd actually talked to in the beta spoke, the same nasally voice as she'd had during that period too. He couldn't see her aircraft anywhere, but he doubted she'd be far away. The UHF radios weren't that long ranged, and only really worked if both of you were less than thirty miles apart, so that narrowed it down a little.

''You already know where I'm heading, Argo. Fort Pleasant.'' He answered.

''If ya think that's a good idea…'' He didn't have to see Argo to tell she was less than pleased at that news. Her tone communicated that pretty well, even with the crackling on the frequency. ''Look, Kii-bou, don't take this the wrong way, but ya need somebody with ya. Fort Pleasant's gonna be abandoned, an' even if ya were the ace of aces back then... ya really plan to man a base by yerself?'' As much as it painted Kirito to admit it, he really hadn't thought that far ahead. He'd assumed that, just like in the beta, the base would be open to players as soon as someone landed there and therefore, he wouldn't need to man the base himself. With the thought in his head, what was to say that Kayaba hadn't meddled with the game? He certainly couldn't say that with any confidence...

''What are you asking, Argo?''

''I'm not asking anything, I'm sayin' that I'm comin' wit' ya.'' During the beta, Argo had demonstrated that she was just as tenacious as he was, but had often taken the more risky reconnaissance missions that came up, relying on speed and agility alone to get in and out of a target, in that RF-5 she'd flown. He didn't imagine that anyone would be willing to take those type of missions voluntarily anymore, with the risk to their own lives now a very real, and ever present threat...

Scanning around him as he lined up on the runway, he noticed another F-5 behind him on the taxiway, an earlier A model that had, in a sick joke on Kayaba's part, been given the name ''Freedom Fighter''. He had no doubts that was Argo's plane, and the next radio transmission confirmed that... ''I told ya, I'm comin' wit' ya.'' Kirito, deciding that arguing with Argo was an exercise in futility, didn't respond and began to do a take off check, as her F-5A pulled alongside him on the runway...

Flaps - set. Canopy - shut. Engines - looking good. Throttles - to full.

The lightweight F-5E rolled down the runway, its twin J85-21 engines propelling it to takeoff speed slightly faster than Argo's earlier A model, giving Kirito a very brief head start in the drag race that had been their takeoff. Within seconds, both aircraft were rolling down the runway at speed and shortly after, both F-5s lifted into the sky.

The flight to the base at Fort Pleasant wasn't a particularly long one, only being around a hundred miles away, meaning that at cruise speed, they'd reach it in less than fifteen minutes... not that the short time made the flight any less awkward. Despite Argo being one of the few people he actually had managed a full conversation with during the beta, he hadn't expected her to tag along with him as a babysitter. Besides, she knew he was a good pilot, even if his social skills were more than a little rusty, so it wasn't as if he couldn't look after himself. ''Kii-bou, we're coming up to Fort Pleasant. I'll let ya lead fer landing. After all, ya know the old saying?'' He pondered on the question for a few seconds, and then gave up.

''I don't think I do, Argo?''

''Ladies first...'' He wasn't even in the same airplane as Argo, and he could already feel that smug grin of hers radiating from the Freedom Fighter...

/-/

The landing at Fort Pleasant had been a relatively smooth affair, and both aircraft were now taxiing into the main hangar, a reinforced concrete structure that, if Kirito remembered correctly from the beta, was supposed to be able to take a direct hit from a heavy bomb, and still remain standing. Useful really, given he had no doubts what the first mission would be. He'd played enough Ace Combat games to know that the first mission was always a simple ''Base under Siege'' mission. The big question now, was when?

Once both F-5s had been stored safely inside the hangar, the two ex-beta testers had agreed that the best course of action was to find any resources that could be used to sustain their operations from the base. That the base had been abandoned in a rush, they had no doubts - fuel bowsers, albeit heavily dilapidated, were still full of jet fuel, ammunition was still chambered in the anti-aircraft guns, and tools had been left in the maintenance bays.

Inside the huge hangar, Kirito was starting to doubt just how structurally sound the building was - staining from water ingress was running down from the roof, whilst rust was beginning to form around a number of the main joints on the steel girders that held the hangar up, and a nasty smell, that of standing water that had evidently stood for a while, could be smelt over one side of the hangar...

The mess was a different story entirely. If they'd had plenty of tools in the hangar, then they'd made an unpleasant discovery... they had no food, other than what was left in the vending machines, and that could've been years out of date. Luckily for them, Kayaba hadn't been such a sadist as to program in expiration dates for the foods in ACES, which meant neither would die an unpleasant (and ever so slightly embarrassing...) death from food poisoning.

The next problem that they'd realised was the sleeping arrangements... somehow, in a base meant to handle at least a squadron's worth of people... there was only one room for sleeping.

The pair had decided to flip a coin to see who got the bed, and who was sleeping in the mess hall... and almost immediately afterwards, Kirito had decided that he hated his luck.

(Back at the base, nine days later...)

''Hi, can I-'' And another one walked past her. Back in school, a couple of friends had laughed that getting a guy to do what they asked was as simple as fluttering your eyelids and acting sweet and innocent... they were so far beyond wrong, it had found itself in a new category of incorrectness. During the beta, she'd made a new friend, who'd agreed to meet with her on launch day, but the guy was nowhere to be seen. As much as her feelings made her resent the bastard who'd left her on her own here, it wasn't as if they'd done it on purpose. Maybe they'd been busy, and just not had chance to sign in, thus sparing them from the fate of being trapped in this hellscape, unlike nearly ten thousand others. The first few nights, she'd spent completely isolated, sleeping in the mess room, just a part of the furniture to almost everyone else. Some people had offered her some reassurance, whilst a few sat with her for a bit... it hadn't done much to help, but it was something.

The eighth day of this hell had arrived, and there had been a distinct change in the tone around the base. During the evening, a few players had taken on what they believed to be the first mission of the game - a reconnaissance run over a nearby base, to investigate reports of Belkan bombers being moved into position.

Spurred on by this success, she'd spent all day asking her fellow players if they'd help her get better at this game. Most just ignored the black haired girl, and carried on with their lives. Of the ones who had actually spent more than two seconds in the vicinity of her... well, she'd honestly wished they didn't. Some were slimy, and she could feel them undressing her with their eyes, whilst the others believed themselves to be god's gift to women everywhere...

In other words, she'd found reasons not to get in an enclosed space with them.

After a bland and unsatisfying meal in the mess, she'd found herself a seat near the flight line, and watched as a fighter took off, its exhaust trailing diamonds as it disappeared from sight, into the early evening sky. She thought to herself just how much better things would be up there, just the wide open sky, and herself. Evidently more resilient than she believed, she got up and went looking again.

In a hardened hangar, just off the taxiway, she'd spotted a player getting out of an aircraft, still armed. She knew very little about planes, and had only really logged into ACES to understand her father's job a little better... She'd gotten a lot more than that, in the end.

''Umm, hi, I don't mean to bother you, but umm...'' She stuttered, as the pilot turned around and removed their helmet. He was taller than her, at around 5ft 6in, with a mop of light brown hair on his head, and gave a smile towards her.

''Oh, sorry, couldn't hear you.''

''I, umm... I want to get better! Can you, you know, help me?'' She blurted out, earning a slight chuckle off the pilot stood in front of her.

''Yeah, of course.'' He gave an innocent smile, as he walked over to her. ''Sorry, I didn't catch your name?'' He asked.

''Koharu, you?'' She gave a slight bow as she introduced herself to her new teacher.

''Coper.''

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Eyes on the Road...

The past ten days had been boring, if he was entirely honest. Of course, ''boring'' was a subjective term, given that the pair were flying Mach 2 capable jets on a daily basis, but the missions had been very simple. A small number of intercept missions, to force a number of aircraft to turn away, or a simple interdiction mission, to engage a tank column about 50 miles away, were the most interesting of the missions they'd undertaken over that time. The very small rewards from the missions allowed some modifications to have been made to the Phantom...

The first of these was a modification to the twin J79s, allowing a not insignificant increase in the aircraft's dry thrust output, and giving it a boost in its stats, especially in regards to its Speed and Agility. The second was a modification to the weapons systems, which allowed the Phantom to carry an internal cannon, the same M61A1 that was mounted in the stock gunpod, which was now mounted under the nosecone, and an improved array of air-to-ground ordnance, rather than just the unguided 1000lb bombs that equipped the stock aircraft.

The final modification was a purely cosmetic one - the aircraft now wore a four tone camouflage scheme. This scheme consisted of a gloss black underside, with dashes of red for the stencil data, with a brown and two tone green camouflage pattern across the rest of the airframe, with various sections towards the rear of the aircraft left in bare metal, due to their proximity to the extreme temperatures produced by the twin J79s. Admittedly, the scheme was more than a little bit of a compromise on Kirito's side - he'd wanted an all over black airframe, before Argo pointed out just how much that would defeat the idea of camouflage in the daytime.

As part of their attempts to ration the fuel until they could find a way to bring the base into full use, they'd decided to take turns flying the Phantom, acting as the RIO, or acting as ground control. Today, Kirito would be flying the Phantom, whilst Argo directed him from the ground, the Phantom's onboard radar needing work done, and thus, out of commission for the time being. Onboard for today's sortie were four Sidewinder heat seeking missiles, and a full load of ammunition for the 20mm cannon, but no Sparrow radar guided missiles, due to the radar's earlier failure and Argo being on the ground, meaning Kirito was reduced to Within Visual Range combat rules.

Climbing through ten thousand feet and passing 400 knots, Kirito undertook a brief control check on their Phantom. All systems looked clear, and he informed Argo of his status up there, ''Everything looks clear Argo. Just going to get a feel for the boosted controls, the skies are clear, right?'' He didn't want a repeat of the other day, when he'd narrowly missed someone deciding to go for a joyride in their F-104... it was only so long before someone died because of the lack of any degree of air traffic control, in his view. Admittedly, he hadn't planned on nearly being the person to prove that point, but the universe did work in mysterious ways sometimes...

Meanwhile in the control tower, Argo pulled herself from her reclined position on the seat, and tapped the aging radar set. One green dot, Kirito, and that was it. ''Yer clear, Kii-bou, skies look clearer than the water.''

Kirito muttered to himself about that not being difficult with their water supply at Fort Pleasant, but acknowledged Argo's description of the situation.

The first manoeuvre he planned to pull off was a simple barrel roll - nose up, roll the wings around 360 degrees, nose down, and return to level flight. Beginning the manoeuvre, Kirito applied additional power to the engines, bringing the throttle up to 80%, the maximum setting without putting the thirsty J79s into reheat, which enabled the afterburner and wasted a tonne of valuable fuel, and raised the Phantom's nose, before quickly pushing the stick to the left, the wings rolling as he did, whilst the nose began to drop too.

Pulling the stick back, the Phantom soon levelled out and Kirito began to consider his next manoeuvre. Considering his altitude, he decided on using a Chandelle, a fairly simple manoeuvre where the aircraft rolls into a climbing turn and turns back 180 degrees on itself.

The Phantom nosed up, and Kirito pulled the aircraft into a 45 degree bank, the aircraft climbing into the turn and levelling out at 14000ft, when his radio crackled into life... ''Kii-bou, got summat. Looks like four bogeys, heading 358 at 50 nautical miles. Altitude is 6000, and descending... fast, by the looks of it!'' Kirito pulled the Phantom back into a banking turn to put him on the correct heading, before putting the Phantom into a 20 degree dive towards the forest below...

Gravity would do the work of ensuring the Phantom accelerated, allowing him to leave the jet at only 80% power as he dove down to 6000 feet. With no functional onboard radar, he'd be relying on Argo's callouts from the ground and his own eyes to determine the situation. With what he already know, it was potentially a flight of four aircraft, and given the increasingly low altitude they were flying, he took an informed guess and assumed strike fighters of some kind.

His assumption was soon shattered however, when Argo made her next callout ''Kii-bou, one of 'em's broke off. Looks like it's climbing fast! The other-'' Without warning, his radio screeched with static, before another voice came over the frequency...

''Is anyone there!? Please?! My flight lead's abandoned me, and they're gonna kill-'' Violent thuds came over the radio, as the panicked girl tried to finish her distress call, the sound being one that Kirito knew all too well - the sound of cannon fire.

''New gal, can ya give me ya heading and altitude?''

''358, and uhh, 5600 and dropping! I'm... my plane's hit badly!'' The girl panicked, as Kirito scanned the sky near the area of the bogeys. Descending through the cloud cover, he could see a grey trail off his 1'o'clock, which was almost certainly smoke of some form, with two contrails behind the smoke.

''Help is on the way, don't worry! Kii-bou, ya heard all that?''

Closing in, Kirito could finally see the planforms of the three aircraft. One swept wing aircraft, being pursued by two tailed deltas, both firing their cannons at the leading aircraft whenever the opportunity presented itself. ''I see them, one Hunter being chased by two MIG-21s, Argo.''

''Good, go bring 'er home!'' Argo called to Kirito, before switching to the distressed aircraft. ''New gal, ya've got an F-4 bearin' down on ya, he's friendly.''

''Th-thank you!''

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Putting the Phantom into a dive to reach the stricken Hunter, two thoughts crossed Kirito's mind. The first was just how real this was, and how little room for error he'd have here. If he messed up, someone was going to die, a burden he'd not really felt yet. The second was a far more selfish thought to him - he was enjoying this, the thrill of the hunt and the adrenaline rush it bought about. The heavy Phantom dropped fast, and was soon in firing position against the MIG trailing to the rear of the Hunter, a fact that Kirito had noticed only a split second later than he should've, but now raced to get a lock with the heat seeking Sidewinders.

GRRRRR... Growled the missile seekers, as Kirito hit the trigger to release the missile. ''Kirito, Fox Two.'' He called out, confirming his firing of the missile. Within milliseconds, a missile screamed off the underwing rail, a white smoke trail following the missile as it accelerated to Mach 2.5, and in just under five seconds, the missile's proximity fuse warhead tore through the unlucky MIG, the rear fuselage and its stabilisers disappearing entirely, obliterated by the blast. The doomed MIG began to spin wildly, flames and fuel pouring from the destroyed Tumansky engine, before the wreck impacted the dense foliage below and scattered itself into thousands of pieces, and in every direction...

''Kirito, splash one MIG!'' He called out, as the surviving MIG realised the situation - he was now alone, and outnumbered two to one. The fight had suddenly become a very lopsided battle for the MIG, who now had two options. The first was to apply full afterburner, and exit the combat area as fast as possible, hoping the Phantom wouldn't give chase. The second, and the option the pilot went for, was to throw the MIG into a steep banking turn and use the aircraft's superior turning performance to try to turn the tables on the Phantom.

Kirito, having anticipated the MIG's next move, quickly armed the Vulcan cannon and positioned himself as best as he could to lead the target. With the Hunter still in front, he'd have to be very careful with the 20mm fire, to avoid friendly fire...

''Kirito, guns.'' He positioned the pipper onto the MIG, and pulled the trigger. Less than a second, the trigger had been pulled for, and in that time, a hundred rounds poured out of the cannon's six barrels, as a stream of fire befitting of the name Vulcan, impacted the remaining MIG. Unlike the previous MIG, the aircraft didn't simply explode, but rather rolled back to level, shedding parts of the wings and fuselage, before attempting to climb, the pilot clearly fighting for any semblance of control that the crippled airframe would offer. His attempts would not last long however, as Kirito saw a sharp metal wedge fly back off the airframe, only narrowly avoiding striking the Phantom.

That wedge had been the MIG's right wing, and the now fatally wounded aircraft began to plummet towards the forest below. The last anyone saw of the aircraft, it had buckled towards the centre, and split in half, each section engulfed in flames, before it too met the same end as its wingman.

''Kirito, splash the other MIG. Argo, are we clear?'' He asked, as he scanned the skies around him visually.

''Both of ya are clear. Scope's clean.'' He breathed a sigh of relief, as he checked his fuel state, and almost immediately regretted his previous action. Less than a quarter of a tank left, and still 80 miles from base... this was going to be tight, he thought to himself. Now trailing behind the damaged Hunter, he could see the damage that had been done to the aircraft, as holes from cannon shells seemingly outnumbered rivets on the Hunter now. The grey smoke he'd used to identify the aircraft had begun to become an acrid black, and left a visible deposit of soot on the Phantom if he came too close.

''New gal? Ya still with us?'' Argo called to the Hunter, with no response. Another attempt to reach her went unanswered, and at Argo's request, Kirito flew in formation with the damaged Hunter, relaying what he saw to Argo. The girl was still alive, and she was trying to get in contact seemingly, although her radio appeared to have been destroyed by cannon fire.

Through some creative use of hand signals, Kirito had told the girl to follow him back to Fort Pleasant, which was the closest airfield available to land at from their current position. As they approached the runway, Kirito took position ahead of the Hunter, allowing him to guide the stricken aircraft in, without the risk of having to land after a potential crash.

Flaps set, and airspeed reduced to around 160 knots, and Kirito was set for landing at Fort Pleasant. ''Ya cleared ta land, Kii-bou. Make it snappy tho', dunno how long the new gal can hold it on the approach.'' Argo confirmed his landing clearance, and after twenty or so seconds, the Phantom touched down and began braking.

The short runway at Fort Pleasant pretty much ensured that every approach made would require them to use the braking parachute, and today's were no exception, the chute deploying behind the Phantom to bring it to a halt, before the aircraft taxied off the runway. Leaving the runway, Kirito shut down the two J79s, and got out of the aircraft as fast as he could, before he sprinted as far away from the taxiway as he humanly could. If that Hunter was as badly damaged as it looked, there was a very real chance that it could careen off the runway, and although losing the Phantom would set them back, he'd rather it be that than he lost his life instead...

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In her life, Koharu could say with absolute certainty that she knew exactly what muscle strain felt like - she was a gymnast after all. This though? This was something else entirely, she thought as she only barely managed to hold the Hunter's nose above the horizon. She remembered her lessons from the beta and the few lessons Coper had given her, on landing the plane she'd come to consider hers. ''Ne- scrrrrr - ca- grrrr'' Her radio, badly battered from the cannon fire, attempted to come to life before failing with smoke. That really was all she needed, a cockpit filled with smoke as well as a shattered front windscreen and bullet holes through a number of major instruments...

She looked around the damaged pane of glass in front of her, peering around the side in the hope that she could see the runway in front of her. Somehow, she was able to identify the runway, and began to descend towards it, hopefully in a somewhat controlled manner. The Hunter was rapidly losing hydraulic pressure, and the engine was probably damaged given the constant spluttering and very low power it was now putting out, although she couldn't be certain on exactly how badly as the gauges were amongst the casualties of the gunfire.

Her altimeter was another casualty, meaning she would have to make an almost completely blind landing, as the smoke began to fill the cockpit further. Despite the heat in the cockpit, Koharu had never felt such a cold sensation as the chills now running down her spine. A quick glance outside the cockpit and she saw the runway far closer than the previous speck it had been.

In that moment, she decided on what could well be her last course of action - she was landing the Hunter, rather than ejecting.

She lowered the landing gear, as she passed over the forest at the end of the runway, and watched as she the Hunter began to feel as if it were floating down the runway. She refused to have come so far, only to fall at the last hurdle! The last of her strength was used to push the plane's nose down, the nose wheel making first contact with the tarmac...

CRUNCH

... Before almost immediately disappearing, crushed under the weight of the aircraft as it charged down the runway at nearly 200 miles per hour. Koharu felt her head jolt forward, smacking against the destroyed gunsight ahead of her, before everything went black. Outside, T=the careening Hunter, now almost standing on its nose, with its left wing digging into the grass next to the runway, continued down the runway and off the end, the fighter coming to rest in a sand filled area around a hundred metres from the end of the runway, as its fuel tanks ruptured and sprayed fuel into the still hot engine...

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Watching the unfolding crash from the tower, Argo raced to get back down to ground level and over to the resting site of the Hunter. Unlike Kii-bou, she'd only actually crashed once, after her Tigereye had been torn up by triple-A fire on a recon run over a suspected Belkan V-Force base in the beta, and even then, she'd chose to eject from the plane rather than risk a fatal crash landing.

Either this girl was very brave, very overconfident... or she'd had no other option.

From what Kii-bou had told her, the Hunter was badly shot up and some of the cannon shells had clearly done a number on the plane's communications systems, so it wasn't unreasonable to think they could've damaged the ejection system too... Regardless of what had happened, Argo sprinted down the staircase that connected the tower to the base itself, before coming out into the twilight sky. The sky looked brighter tonight than it had on previous nights, but that was only as it was lit up in part by the blaze of twisted and torn metal, jet fuel and grass at the end of the runway that had once been a Hawker Hunter.

As she sprinted over as fast as her legs would carry her, Argo could only hope that Kii-bou had gotten there before her, and was working to free the new girl from the wreck, or that she'd been able to free herself and escape from the molten mess at the end of the runway. Parts of the Hunter's landing gear were lying on the runway, torn apart by the violent touchdown and scattered as if it weighed nothing at all, rather than the veritable mass of metal it was, whilst a deep trench had been dug off to the side, where the Hunter's wing had torn through the grass before it came to rest.

Approaching the site, a sense of deep relief came over Argo, as she saw a figure coming through the flames - Kirito, who'd got something, or more accurately, someone, over his shoulders as he ran from the crash site. The two met about 400 metres from the wreck, before continuing to run back towards the apron and well away from the scorching blaze at the end of the runway.

Argo was the first to speak, as Kirito placed the girl down and the pair began to tend to her wounds. Remarkably, despite the mass of cannon fire that he torn her Hunter up, not a single shell had hit her... probably for the best, given the high explosive shells used in the GSh cannons, which would've ensured she hadn't survived long enough to crash land. Even more remarkably, despite the cannon damage to the cockpit, she didn't appear to have any shrapnel injuries either... Somehow, other than being knocked unconscious in the run off, she was relatively unscathed, a fact that got a mirthless laugh out of Argo, who suggested they paint a four leaf clover on her next aircraft, just to show how lucky she truly was...

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Whilst the events at Fort Pleasant unfolded, a two tone grey F-16 Fighting Falcon was climbing into the twilight sky, on course to home base. Inside the aircraft, its pilot thought hard about what had just happened. Scanning his radar, he could only see two radar returns... almost certainly the MIGs that had bounced him and Koharu. Some may have called him a cynic, but Koharu was... not a good pilot, to put it mildly. When the MIGs had found them, she'd rather conveniently given them a good target to shoot at - after all, the Hunter was cannon fodder for a skilled MIG-21 pilot... the F-16, well, it was almost certainly the other way round.

Just because she'd been a poor pilot though, didn't mean Coper didn't feel some degree of sympathy for her, and her unpleasant demise. He'd not meant any ill will towards her, but when it came down to it, he wasn't willing to sacrifice his life for just another pretty face, like so many others would've done.

Continuing along at around 20,000ft, Coper scanned the skies around him. No visual contacts whatso-BANG!

With no warning, the F-16 spun violently around all three axis, going through the motions as he struggled to even understand what had just happened. His vision was almost completely impaired, the G forces going from positive to negative and back to positive again with little chance of recovery between, throwing him around the cockpit as if he were a ragdoll, his body going from weighing six or seven times its normal weight, to less than a third of its weight as he tumbled around the F-16...

With the greatest amount of difficulty, he pushed the side stick forward, an attempt to get the Falcon into a more controllable position. His attempt failed, as the F-16 failed to respond at all, the spinning becoming even more chaotic, before Coper heard a noise amongst the alarms that made his blood run cold - a ripping noise...

''I don't want to die! Help!'' He cried at the top of his voice, the F-16 continuing its fatal spin, almost as if it were spiting its pilot, before the final alarm he'd hear began to blare throughout the cockpit... WOOP. WOOP. TERRAIN. TERR-

Several miles away, and on the ground, observers reported a smoke plume rising above the forest, with little indication as to where it had come from...

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Hold Back the River...

Sat in the rec room, Argo watched over the new gal as she recovered from being knocked out. The girl in question was a fair bit taller than she was, but still shorter than Kii-bou, with similarly messy black hair ... though she reckoned the helmet and the crash landing hadn't exactly done wonders for her hairdo. All in all, Argo thought she was pretty cute, in a kind of girl-next-door way. Her helmet had been pretty badly banged up, to the point where a large crack was now running along the left hemisphere, over the standard Osean markings.

After about ten minutes of being away with the fairies, the girl snapped back to the land of the living, and almost immediately bolted upright, nearly throwing Argo to the floor in surprise... ''Where am I?! Y-Who are you!?'' she looked around frantically, attempting to back away from the small woman in front of her.

''Steady now, ya had a nasty bump. What was tha' last thing ya remember?''

''Landing, I remember touching down, then a noise, and then just now.'' The girl answered, slightly confused as she tried to piece together what had happened to her.

''Ah, ya landing gear gave way durin' that emergency landin'. Went straight off the end'a the runway too... ya really lucky, ya know? Coulda been far worse fer ya! Jus' glad we got there when we did...'' The fire surrounding the Hunter had engulfed it in less than a minute, and with her rendered unconscious... it didn't really bear thinking about.

''Oh, umm, thank you for saving me!''

''Nah, ya don't need ta thank me fer that, that was all Kii-bou's doin'. What happened up there tho? Ya seemed ta have stirred up a lotta attention fer just a routine flight?''

''Coper - uh, my flight leader - said that he remembered there was an airbase out here, and that we could hide out there. I followed him without thinking, and the first we knew was when ground fire started to come up at us, and both our missile alert things went off. Then the fighters appeared, and Coper ran off, and then I ran into you guys.''

''Hol' up? Ya found another airbase? Where was it?'' Argo bombarded the girl with questions, realising that their impromptu intervention might have just been in the nick of time...

''About fifty miles south of here... why?'' asked Koharu, confused at the relevance of their accidental reconnaissance flight, whilst Argo slapped her hand to her face in a slightly theatrical manner.

''What's ya name?'' Argo already knew the answer, given the girl had it printed onto a patch on the shoulder of her flight suit.

''Koharu?'' She answered, almost unsure of herself as she did.

''Well, Koharu, ya may have just set off the entire campaign...'' Argo stated, a tone of seriousness in her voice that was betrayed by the expression on her face, a small grin on her face as she stood up, and hit the button on her radio... ''Kii-bou, we're gonna need both our craft refuelled and rearmed. I'll be with ya in a few...''

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Hours had passed since the emergency landing, and Kirito found himself very bored, yet very anxious. He'd already refuelled the Phantom and the Freedom Fighter, as Argo had asked, especially now there was the distinct possibility of Belkan air activity. Given that they were already probing Belkan airspace on a daily basis, he was a little bit surprised that it had taken Koharu and her flight lead stumbling upon the forward operating base at Rhinemartial, to generate any form of response.

That was another thing that Kirito didn't like the sound of - her flight lead. Whilst he hadn't seen the guy, and Argo had only briefly tracked him, he'd made haste to escape the combat area, and left his wingwoman to what he'd probably assumed was her death. Whilst Kirito couldn't speak for what would happen to him had he been in any military IRL, he certainly found it to be a rather shitty act, especially if he knew what he was doing. How that person could live with themselves, he really wasn't sure.

As his thoughts returned to the radar set in front of him, he noticed four dots heading north at around 2000ft and 400kts, with no transponders detected. The dots were clearly quite a large return, so that meant they weren't fighters or fighter bombers, but rather something considerably bigger. Whatever they were though, they were moving fast through the area, and looked to be on a course for the base at Rechlin... the home base for everyone else.

Kirito, without a moment's hesitation, raced down to the stairs once again to get to the Phantom. He really hoped this wouldn't be like the beta test, where the Belkans threw multiple waves of aircraft at Rechlin, in a time on target strike, with aircraft from across Belka taking part in the strike. The first wave, he remembered, had been formed of tactical bombers, loaded with cratering munitions in order to knock out the runways of the base, before a veritable mass of heavy bombers approached from altitude. The radar hadn't appeared to show anything at altitude, which did a little to help his anxiety there, but it was the low level attack that concerned him... those aircraft were far too high for such an attack. He couldn't help but think - were they just a decoy?

If the plan they'd worked out was correct, the radar blips would pass overhead at Fort Pleasant, towards Rechlin, and they would be able to intercept the main bomber force from behind, thinning them out before they reached Rechlin, and allowing the players there a small window to form up after the strikers had been dealt with.

That was the plan, anyway. Somehow, Kirito expected circumstances not to stay within the confines of the plan...

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At Rechlin, a fight of aircraft, numbering about eight, had made their way onto the taxiway, ready for the usual early evening Combat Air Patrol mission, after the false alarm earlier. At the front of the formation was a two ship element, formed of an F-8C Crusader, and an F-4E Phantom. The Crusader had been customised somewhat, its usual ghost grey and white colour scheme being replaced by a two tone blue one, with bright red hinomaru on the wings and fuselage, alongside an unusual choice of weaponry. On the fuselage missile rails were two AIM-9C Sidewinders, the radar guided version of the Sidewinder, and two standard AIM-9B, and alongside the quad Mk12 20mm cannons, the F-8 certainly looked the part of an interceptor...

The Phantom, the much larger aircraft of the two, also wore the same two tone blue scheme with hinomaru in positions on the outer wings and just ahead of the J79 exhausts. Loaded up was a full weapon load - four standard Sidewinders, and four radar guided Sparrows in the under fuselage recesses, whilst two large drop tanks were equipped on the outer pylons.

In the cockpit of the F-8, its pilot was getting slightly anxious, as they'd been told to hold short of the runway, due to a developing situation. As they stood waiting for news of the developing situation, a radio call came in from the Phantom besides him. ''Boss-man, you reckon this is the start of the campaign?'' crackled his radio with the voice of Harry One, coming from the back seat of the F-4.

''Fuurin Flight. Liberator Flight. Rivet Top has reported contacts approaching from the south. Heading 330, at 2000ft, estimated speed of 500kts.''

Klein, for the first time since he'd gotten into the Crusader, gave the mission a thought. They'd been told to expect a flight of bombers heading in at low level, and at least if the tower had been right, coming in relatively fast. That meant that they weren't going to have a lot of time, especially if the bombers hugged the ground as he believed they would, and they would likely have difficulty in detecting them with their airborne radars - the ground clutter returned from that altitude would likely negate any clean Sparrow shots, and the radar guided -9C's equipped to his Crusader were an equally unknown variable, a weapon that no one else that he knew of used.

''Fuurin Lead, Fuurin Two. Cleared onto the runway, await take off clearance.'' Came the call from the ground controller, as Klein looked outside of the F-8, into the afternoon sky. Now with permission, the Crusader and Phantom rolled onto the runway, and lined up for a formation take off. They'd need to get airborne as fast as they could, and with that in mind, Klein deployed the Crusader's party trick - the variable incidence wing, a way of increasing lift on take off and landing, by pivoting the entire wing assembly upwards to around 7 degrees from the fuselage. In coordination with the leading and trailing edge flaps, and the thrust generated from the afterburning J57, it was more than enough to get the aircraft into the air quickly.

''Fuurin Lead, Fuurin Two, you are cleared for take off.'' The tower controller called, and without hesitation, the roar of J57 and J79 engines echoed across the base. The Crusader and Phantom hurtled along the runway, the Crusader becoming airborne first, with the Phantom following a few seconds later, less than twenty seconds after the engines roared up to full power.

As the two ship formation climbed to 5000ft, the next two aircraft - the other two members of Fuurin Flight, flying another Phantom, and unusually, a Mitsubishi F-1. Klein had briefly wondered why Dale had picked the F-1, given its main role as an anti-shipping aircraft... which had a drawback, given that Rechlin was at least a hundred miles from the coast, and the Belkan Navy even further away. At least he had, until he realised that the F-1 could carry a sizeable amount of ground attack ordnance, mainly in the form of 500lb Mk82 bombs and a number of pair of 70mm rocket pods, alongside a pair of AAM-1 infrared air-to-air missiles, and quite quickly changed his tune.

Behind the Phantom and F-1 were the other flight - Liberator, their flight being formed of an F-104J Starfighter, a pair of F-102A Delta Daggers and a single F-11B ''Super Tiger''. Unsurprisingly, the Starfighter was last in the queue for take off, given its very short range on internal fuel, a range only slightly increased with wingtip tanks, and probably not aided much by the twin Sidewinders under the fuselage.

''Boss-man, I've got contacts. A lot of 'em!'' Klein cursed the Crusader's comparatively poor radar, and having to rely on the two Phantoms in Fuurinkazen for their long range information.

''All aircraft. Targets are 50 miles out, confirmed as bombers of the Belkan Air Force... wait, no. There's fight-'' The call from Rivet Top, the Airborne Early Warning platform to the south ended abruptly, and it didn't take a genius to work out what had happened. Rivet Top was down, and the bombers were not the only Belkan aircraft in the sky that evening...

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Climbing through the twilight sky, Kirito felt a sense of dread. He couldn't explain why, but he was concerned that they'd arrive too late to do anything, or that they'd find the base in ruins, pulverised by multiple waves of unimpeded bombing raids.

He could only hope that they'd been able to get at least a small contingent of aircraft up before the first wave of strikers arrived to soften up the base, as even at top speed, he doubted they'd be able to reach them in time to assist. The larger bombers, on the other hand...

''Umm, Kirito? I think I see them... four blips, uhh, straight ahead.'' Oh, and that was his other concern - Koharu. He understood that throwing her into a completely new aircraft with absolutely no warning not training, then expecting her to fight for her life - again - wasn't a good idea in the slightest, but he did have to wonder why she was now flying as his back seater. She wasn't terrible at it, a small mercy today, but she was no Argo either, often calling out simple directions rather than more detailed information. Luckily, Argo had given her a very brief crash course on how to operate the Sparrows, so they could at least fire on the targets from a distance... a capability that was about to become very useful, as four specks came into sight...

Though vague, Kirito, the gamer and aviation geek he was, recognised the targets - B-52 Stratofortress strategic bombers. It was hard not to recognise them, really, with just how iconic the BUFF was. Developed in the 1950s as a nuclear bomber, and an evolution of the earlier B-47 Stratojet, the B-52 was one of the longest serving aircraft in history, with modernised versions continuing with the USAF even in the present day, not expecting to be retired until 2045, with the aircraft expected to be over ninety years old at that point! It's eight engines, mounted in four pods under the large swept wings, putting out truly unmistakeable contrails behind the bombers, and with four of them in formation... well, Kirito couldn't help but by slightly awed by the sight of four of the bombers, even if they were the targets.

''Kirito? Should we fire on them?'' asked Koharu, flipping switches that (she hoped) would arm the long range Sparrow armament. Evidently the advice Argo had given her had worked, as a growl came through the cockpit of the Phantom. GRRRRR... Missile lock.

''Fire when ready, Koharu.'' Kirito stated, and Koharu nodded from the back seat. Within seconds, a dull thud came from underneath the aircraft, the noise of the Sparrow leaving the aircraft, before a plume of smoke passed in front of them. Another few seconds passed, and the twilight sky lit up ahead, a black cloud now taking the place of the third B-52 along the row, whilst a fiery trail tore towards the ground below, all that was left of the once behemoth of a bomber.

GRRRR. ''Firing again.'' Again, the thud of the missile leaving the aircraft was obvious. This time though, no smoke trail in front of them and evidence that they'd even fired a missile. A second missile released, this time the rocket motor lighting, and the Sparrow streaked through the sky...

...and completely past the B-52s, before detonating about a mile ahead of them. It was turning into one of those days, Kirito thought to himself, as he checked his position. Argo, flying the slower Freedom Fighter, was considerably behind them and wouldn't be here for at least another three minutes, and they'd soon be within Sidewinder range of the bombers.

''Firing.'' Koharu called out, the final of the four Sparrows detaching from the aircraft, and streaking towards the bombers around 30 miles ahead. As if by some miracle, the final missile hit home on the lead B-52, its right side pouring smoke and fuel as the aircraft listed to the right. Unseen to the crew of the Phantom though, the listing bomber was about to demonstrate the dangers of formation flying, as the vertical stabiliser of the damaged BUFF slammed into the cockpit of the aircraft trailing its right wing. The cockpit of the second aircraft was severed from the bomber, and the rather impromptu redesign of the aerodynamics, pushed the plane into a steep dive, the wrecks of both aircraft intertwining in the fading light...

Even Kirito, who'd once managed to score an air-to-air kill with a 500lb bomb of all things, seemed amazed at the shot. The momentary speechlessness aside though, they still had a job to do, as the final B-52, now realising that it was in serious jeopardy, began to turn and run back in the direction it came from - a wise choice, given the circumstances...

Not that they planned to let it retreat though, as the Phantom now closed into Sidewinder distance. Kirito threw the aircraft into a turn to position themselves behind the lumbering B-52, and pulling out about eight miles behind the bomber. In their headsets, a growling told them that they had missile lock, and without a word between them, Koharu hit the trigger on her joystick to fire. A Sidewinder detached from the underwing pylons, dropping into the slipstream, before its rocket motor ignited and the missile raced towards its target at Mach 3.

The heavy bomber didn't stand a single chance of evading the missile, even with the release of countermeasures, and the proximity fuse warhead blasted shrapnel into the horizontal and vertical stabilisers of the B-52, tearing sizeable sections off both control surfaces. The damaged bomber, now out of control, plunged towards the ground, before the crew of the Phantom saw the final moments of the aircraft - the wings detaching from the aircraft as the fuselage was engulfed by the flames from the failed fuel tanks...

Kirito winced as he watched the fiery display, and just by looking in his rear view mirror, he could tell Koharu wasn't taking that display all that well. He couldn't blame her, really - it was the first kill she'd witnessed up close, and it had certainly been one of the more unpleasant to witness. Still, they'd dealt their blow to the incoming bomber force... now, it was time to hope that Rechlin would stand against the incoming force...

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The battle above Rechlin was nothing short of continuing chaos. Aircraft dashed around in every direction possible, and without the control and coordination from Rivet Top, everyone had selected their own targets, making the chaos even worse at times... ''Liberator One, I have a-rragh!- kill!'' The pilot of the F-104 called out, straining to pull a tight turn in the fighter, the stubby wings proving a less than ideal planform for the mission at hand...

''Where'd all these guys come from!?'' called another pilot, this time flying an F-102, as he dodged a missile launched from a MIG behind him.

''Liberator Three, ya've got one behind ya!'' the F-11s pilot called out to his ally in the Delta Dagger, just moments before a MIG-19 tore past his nose at break neck pace, the F-11 breaking to pursue the Farmer.

Klein had found himself engaging the strike fighters, alongside the rest of Fuurin Flight, whilst Liberator took the fighters that had came with them. So far, they'd done a pretty good job, with not even a single scratch on the airbase,

In the briefest of reprieves during the intense furball, Klein pulled his mask away from his face and cursed whoever had modelled the masks to be this damned uncomfortable. They did not need to be able to hear themselves breathe constantly, and for the mask to become covered in sweat! There was realism, and then there was that!

His brief moments of rest were interrupted as an aircraft raced away beneath him - a single Su-22 Fitter, approaching the airbase's accommodation. They'd made sure that everyone who wasn't in the air was being moved to safety away from the base itself, and now, the bastard was about to take advantage of that... no chance, he thought.

Without replacing his mask, he threw the Crusader into a dive and pushed the throttle to the afterburner position, the extra fuel dumped into the J57 providing an extra kick to chase the Fitter down.

Having noticed the blue Crusader diving on them, the Fitter's pilot decided that even if he couldn't kill his pursuer, then the concrete below him could... the aircraft descending to below fifty feet, only barely avoiding scraping the taller buildings with its bombs as it tore through the base, strafing whatever appeared in its path with its twin 30mm cannons, the few remaining players on the ground racing for cover as the Fitter tore up everything in sight...

The heights involved meant that using his remaining Sidewinders was out of the question - the missiles would simply hit the ground before the motors ignited, and at these heights, he simply couldn't depress the guns enough to get a clear shot on the seemingly suicidal Fitter. With no way to stop the Fitter, Klein began to wonder if the only way to stop this guy was to ram him... but then, a split second opportunity: the Fitter had to climb, to avoid becoming a high speed bunker buster itself. Klein seized the opportunity, pulling back his trigger three times in quick succession...

Those three pulls sent over 250 rounds of 20mm fire into the Fitter, and the aircraft shuddered, as its control surfaces appeared to jam in the nose high position. The large Lyulka turbojet, once capable of providing nearly 25,000lbs of thrust, was now spluttering as smoke and fluids trailed behind the damaged Fitter, the aircraft shuddering again as it dropped to stall speed and began to drop like a rather aerodynamic brick. Klein, sensing that keeping low was going to be a very bad idea, slammed the J57 into its afterburner position, and the Crusader raced skywards again. He watched over his shoulder briefly as a tremendous explosion tore through a thankfully empty section of base's apron, the damaged Fitter, plus its payload of bombs and fuel providing a spectacular fireworks display...

Now back at 2000ft, Klein quickly checked his ammunition - all four cannon were now empty, and he had just a single radar guided Sidewinder left on his left cheek rail. His fuel state wasn't looking any more healthy either, with only about ten minutes of fuel still in the tanks. ''Fuurin Lead, I'm bingo fuel.'' He called out, deciding that he needed to return to the runway ASAP.

''Fuurin Lead, we still have bandits over the field. We cannot guarantee a safe landing...'' That much didn't need to be said, Klein had eyes of his own after all. Fortunately though, the situation had cleared up slightly, as he was no longer constantly on alert for any aircraft that may collide with him at any given moment. ''Boss, we'll cover you.'' called Kunimittz, his Phantom passing overhead as he did so.

''Fuurin Lead, I'm coming straight in.'' The Crusader approached with its wing extended, and the touchdown was as smooth as could be. The landing itself was a textbook affair, even despite the rather less than textbook scenario, and the F-8 rolled onto what was left of the apron. Klein, now seeing the damage to the base from ground level, realised just how much of a mess the fighters had made. One hangar was now completely out of commission, the tail section of a MIG-21 now lodged into the roof, whilst the fuel tankers were nowhere to be seen...

''All aircraft, bandits are retreating. I say again, bandits are retreating.'' The tower called the remaining interceptors, before giving them a chance to land. What had happened here today, it would signify the opening salvos of the war to come...

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Bring Down The House

Lisbeth would be the first to admit that she wasn't exactly a girly-girl. Sure, she could get dressed up and enjoy herself like that - and she did, from time to time IRL - but she was also what her parents described as a tinkerer. She took a keen interest in technology, and more importantly, how that technology worked. What was connected to what, and how that related to another component, and how the fine balance of those components allowed it to function, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that... though possibly not to her parents, who still believed that her first phone had met its fate under the wheels of a car, rather than an improvised prying tool, as she tried to remove the back of it without heating the rear glass.

That interest had been narrowed down somewhat as she grew older, zeroing in on the world of aviation and the fine balance of engineering that industry demonstrated. How the specific components of a high-bypass turbofan worked, the intricate system of hydraulics and just how minute the tolerances were. Even the slightest of errors, and a perfectly designed aircraft could be left a smouldering wreck of twisted metal and scorched earth. It was a morbid thought, even when she wasn't in a game of death, but she'd found it kept her mind on the job at hand.

That job was fixing a number of cannon holes in an F-102A Delta Dagger, one of which had been where the remains of an unexploded shell had made its way into the J57, and was, at least according to its pilot, beginning to sound like a brick in a washing machine.

As it had turned out, that wasn't the only problem the F-102 had, given a 23mm shell was now lodged in the landing gear, and even more annoyingly for her, in the weapons bay mechanism. Lisbeth could appreciate a classic design when she saw it, but this Delta Dagger was turning into a massive headache for her, and the pilot of the craft had not helped with that. From the moment he'd stepped out of the plane, she'd known that he wasn't going to be an easy customer to deal with. The way he'd stepped out, his walk feeling like something you'd see from a Hollywood movie about ace pilots in the past, and the posture of someone who knew exactly what they wanted, and heaven be damned if they weren't going to get it. The sky blue hair, and arrogant smile had reinforced her expectations of the guy, and to paraphrase a song, that didn't impress her much...

He'd asked... well, it was more told, her what he expected, and that was to have his plane as good as new - or if she wanted the extra cash, better - before the next mission. She'd told him, in no uncertain terms, that she'd fix it to the best of her abilities and that he'd have his craft back when he got it as she was busy with other work...

Admittedly, that was a lie, but it wasn't as if she was going to drop everything to fix this tool's fighter. Unfortunately, that only works when you actually have other work, as Lisbeth had discovered. The past few days had been spent working on the F-102 out of spite, if anything - she would get it back in time, and it would be the best aircraft in the game, bar none, because she had made it so!

Which explained the headache she was starting to get, as she removed the missile bay door and the remains of a 23mm shell dropped onto the floor. Whoever said the life of a military mechanic was glamourous was not only wrong, but they were a complete liar too!

Deciding that the best option at the moment was to go and take a fifteen minute break, and then come back to it, Lisbeth put her tools down and walked to the other side of the hangar, to the vending machine. As she looked around though, she noticed an aircraft that hadn't been there earlier - a burnt out hulk of metal, in only the most vague outline of an aircraft. She could tell that the aircraft had once had a shock cone in the front, along with being a single seater, but that was as far as she could identify it. It was a sad sight to someone with an engineering mind, but this was the military, seemingly, and the aircraft looked as if it had been through every warzone imaginable...

It was at that moment that Lisbeth felt a tap on her shoulder, and snapped around to face the blue haired pain in the proverbial... ''You'll get your plane eventually! Gimme a break!''

...Only to find a very different person stood in front of her. The girl stood there was about her age, with long, chestnut hair, tied back into a ponytail that ran past her shoulders at very least, and with an expression of both confusion and a small amount of sadness on her face. Lisbeth felt like slapping a hand to her face, and she quickly snapped back into her salesperson attitude, beginning to apologise... ''Oh! Sorry, I thought you were someone else. Lisbeth, at your service, what can I do for you?'' She introduced herself.

''I, umm, my aircraft is... well, can you fix it?'' Lisbeth looked confused. The only aircraft other than the Delta Dagger in the hangar was that wreck, and it didn't take an expert to know that wasn't fixable at all! Which begged the question, where was- ''Oh.'' Lisbeth realised that it was the wreck she was talking about, and winced.

This wasn't going to end well for her up and coming reputation as Strangereal's best mechanic...

''Uhh, what happened to it?'' Lisbeth asked, looking around the molten wreck of twisted metal and rubber. There wasn't enough left to identify the type of it, let alone fix it!

''I had an engine fire, and well...'' The girl admitted, looking far more annoyed than before. Curiously to her, that anger didn't seem to be directed towards her, but herself.

''Ahh, I get ya. I don't think that's repairable though, there's... well, there's nothing left of it, practically speaking. You should have a replacement for it though?'' The girl shook her head, her hair flipping out from behind her. After a few moments of looking at her quizzically, Lisbeth realised what had happened with this girl's plane - the game still believed that the aircraft was there, and therefore hadn't given her a replacement. This gave her an idea... ''Tell you what, I'll take the plane off your hands, and strip it for spares, so the game thinks it's dead. At that point, you should have a new plane...'' Lisbeth hoped she was right, else she was going to look a bit stupid.

The girl seemed a bit downtrodden at this, but seemed to accept it as being the only real way to get a replacement. ''I suppose so...''

''I'll only ask for a single credit for it too, if that helps?'' Liz smiled, although it was quite obviously the smile of someone getting the better deal here, and a smile that was instantly recognised by someone else, who'd walked into the hangar during the conversation, and was watching intently...

''Still swindlin' pretty guys an' gals outta their hard earned credits then, Liz?'' The new girl, a significantly smaller woman, who had whiskers painted on her face, and a mop of dark blonde hair, grinned, as she wrapped an arm around the mechanic...

''I am not!'' She defended herself, scandalised by the implications. ''I'm helping her to get a new plane, Argo, because that-'' Liz pointed towards the hulk ''- was her old one.''

Argo winced as she saw the wreckage. ''I get yer point, but uhh, I din't get ya name?''

''Asuna.'' She answered.

''Asuna, if ya really don't wanna say goodbye to yer old bird, I've got an idea. Go and take a nut or bolt off her, and give it ta Liz here. Ask her ta put it on yer new one, an' that way, a part of her lives on...'' Asuna looked towards Lisbeth, who seemed to be okay with the suggestion, and walked over to the still standing nose gear, before pointing out a large bolt on the leg itself. Without wasting any time, Lisbeth removed the bolt, and handed it to Asuna to keep, and sent her a trade request... finally discovering what it actually was!

''Huh, it does not look like a Lightning anymore...'' She thought to herself. Mind you, it barely looked like an aircraft anymore, let alone a specific type. Still, Asuna accepted the request, and Lisbeth noticed her balance go up by a single credit as she did so, alongside a notification to tell her that she had a new item in her hangar.

Asuna, on the other hand, checked her hangar to notice that the Lightning, her aircraft, now had a symbol indicating that it could be used for missions again, and she quickly pressed on the craft, leading to a complete aircraft, entirely pristine, being stood before the three girls. With little hesitation, Asuna handed Lisbeth the bolt, and spoke up... ''Umm, Lisbeth? Could you give it a once over, make sure its as good as new?'' She asked.

''As good as new? I can make it better than new! Besides, you unlocked some parts for it, so I'll add those on for you...'' Lisbeth looked towards the chestnut haired girl, who actually looked as if she were about to cry in happiness...

It was things like that, that made her enjoy her role as the premier mechanic at Rechlin! Or quite possibly, the only player mechanic at Rechlin.

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Kirito was many things - an avid gamer, a surprisingly competent pilot, and an older brother/cousin, to name a few - but one thing he most definitely wasn't, was a good public speaker, and it was this that was now proving an issue, as he stuttered over his words to the base commander and a number of the squadron members around the base. ''So, uhh, that's the situation. Thanks to a reconnaissance flight, we know that the Belkan forces are operating out of Rhinemartial, and we think they intend to knock Rechlin out of use...''

''No shit.'' Stated a member of the crowd, before receiving a slap to the back of the head from another pilot.

A taller, blue haired man, flanked by another blue haired man, but shorter, and a man who seemed to resemble a startled porcupine, stepped forward from the group. The taller man carried himself with the air of a man used to leadership - a natural leader, who had the charisma to go with it. ''If it helps sir... I have a plan. A way to prevent any follow up strikes for some time...''

The base commander, an older gentleman, looked interested in what was being said. ''And you are?''

''Flight Lieutenant Diavel, sir. Leader of Liberator Flight. My plan is simple - two formations of aircraft. One wave of fighters will go in first, and draw out the defenders, equipped with spoofing equipment. This should lead the Belkans into believing they're chasing a wave of bombers, and that will hopefully spur them into throwing everything they have at that wave.'' Very few groups expressed any interest in that idea, which was understandable, at least in Kirito's eyes. That wave would potentially be sacrificial lambs, if things went wrong, and he had no doubts they would. Still though, Diavel continued, ''But that is where the second wave comes in. A mixed group of fighters and bombers, which will come in below the radar, and disable the runway at Rhinemartial. The fighters in the formation will provide top cover for the bombers as they come in, as well as suppressing triple-A fire.''

The base commander, now deep in thought, looked towards the remainder of the group, and asked the question that any sane person dreaded... ''Does anyone else have any ideas?''

The room remained silent, but restless.

/-/

Whilst everyone agreed that something had to be done, as it turned out, no one wanted to do it. Diavel looked out over the twelve pilots who'd gathered on the flight line for the training runs, and sighed. Realistically speaking, he'd needed at least forty-eight aircraft, and even if everyone flew single seaters - a rather unlikely situation - they were only at a quarter of the strength they needed.

Four aircraft flying into the jaws of the Belkan air defence, to distract them, was a sure fire way to ensure that they lost at least all of those aircraft, and that didn't account for the strike package either, which could be left seriously undermanned, or even worse... completely undefended.

Over the years, Diavel had learned something important in planning: Any plan could fail at any moment, for any reason. It was better to be over prepared, and ready for any eventuality, than it was to be caught off guard with no plan whatsoever. For that reason, he'd asked if he could use the runway as a target, to allow the members of the strike package to get some training on runway busting. Whilst that was being undertaken, the fighter squadrons would engage in mock dogfights off to the west, over towards the coast.

The ragtag selection of aircraft was not ideally suited for a protracted dogfight either - his F-104 had a tiny fuel tank and very poor manueverability, both Lind and Morte flew F-102s, aircraft that lacked both manueverability and a cannon, whilst Kibaou's aircraft was, at least on paper, the strongest fighter of the bunch, the F-11B having four 20mm cannons, and provisions for Sidewinder and Sparrow air-to-air missiles, along with decent performance in a turning fight.

With little else by way of options, Diavel sighed. They'd just have to make it work... for everyone's sake.

/-/

Kirito and Argo had volunteered for the mission as soon as they could. Not because they believed it was a good plan, but because they knew that something had to be done, and this had been the best possible situation. An all out assault on Rhinemartial would be tantamount to suicide, but there was at least a vague chance that something could be done here.

Stood off to the side of the small gathering were a growing crowd of players, interested in the planning of the first major operation of the campaign. The most intrigued by this seemed to be an aging gentleman, likely in his mid to late forties, who was looking at the pilots curiously. There was something about the man that Kirito just couldn't narrow down, but his expression just seemed... off. His expression gave off the impression that he was analysing each and every single member of the group - determining who would make a competent wingman perhaps, he thought to himself.

A pair of teenagers, one male and the other female were also stood nearby, conversing with each other in a language that definitely wasn't Japanese. What they were talking about, Kirito couldn't make out, but there seemed to be more than a little reservation on the part of the boy. There was certainly less reservation on the part of the girl, but without being able to speak... whatever language it was, he couldn't tell just how much was just nerves and how much was genuine concern at the meeting. It wasn't only the language that made them stand out: both teens wore blue overalls, rather than the more familiar khaki ones worn by almost everyone else, and both had naturally blonde hair.

Off to Argo's side was someone that she had apparently met in Liz's hangar, a girl who'd managed to total her plane, but wanted to go straight into the fight. Admirable, certainly... advisable, probably not. The girl stood to attention, her long chestnut ponytail flowing down the back of her neatly maintained flight suit, whilst her posture - almost perfectly stood at attention, with a degree of confidence in just the way she stood - showed that she must've been on the more well off side IRL. She certainly had that air to her, not that it mattered in here. Everyone was in the same situation after all.

On his side, Koharu stood at attention too, but her appearance seemed to display a far less confident image, her raven hair slightly ruffled, and her flight suit crumpled and creased in areas. To be entirely honest, that was understandable - the past three days had been spent in the air, training for as long as she could, practicing Basic Fighter Maneuvers with either himself or Argo in her new Hunter FGA.9. To say she'd worked herself to exhaustion was an understatement; the night before, and after five sorties that day, he'd had to actually lift her out of the cockpit as she no longer had the strength to do so herself... Needless to say, both he and Argo had told her she was not flying again today.

''Sorry we're late!'' A red haired man rushed onto the apron, with a number of men trailling behind him. ''You're still planning to take the fight to the Belkans, right?''

''No need for apologies! We hadn't started yet, and we are indeed! Can I ask your name?'' Diavel asked, still in leader mode.

''Klein, and these are all of Fuurinkazen.'' The red haired man introduced.

''Fuurinkazen? Wait... you fought alongside us to defend the base, didn't ya?'' The spiky haired member of Liberator Flight asked.

''Yeah, we did.'' stated Klein, standing slightly more proud than he had before. All of his group did, in fact. Kirito didn't blame them, he'd heard the story of the group who'd defended the base from Lisbeth when he'd taken his F-4 to her for modifications, and the pilot who chased down an Su-22, at rooftop level, and survived it unscathed. Apparently, the pilot in question had been the leader of a group known as ''Fuurin Flight'', and it didn't take a genius to assume that Fuurin Flight were actually Fuurinkazen. This Klein guy, if the story was true, evidently had some skill behind him and a small part of Kirito was looking forward to seeing him in the air...

''Okay then, so if we don't have any more volunteers?'' He paused for about a minute, waiting to see if any more pilots arrived. They didn't, and so he continued. ''Okay then, we're going to start. As of this moment, all players here will be on the active roster for the Osean Seventh Air Force. You will be organised into squadrons and flights tomorrow, as we start the preparations for our mission, but today, we will simply go through the plan. This mission isn't going to be easy, and we will require everyone to pull their own weight. We are outnumbered, and quite probably outgunned as well, but we will show them what happens when you mess with us!'' A sea of cheers and shouts came from the crowd, before Diavel discussed the plan in greater detail, the crowd hanging on his every word...

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Some time after Diavel's rousing success of a tactical meeting, Lisbeth had called Asuna back to the hangar. For her, there was a sense of apprehension present, as she stepped through the shutter doors, and into the bright lights of the hangar. This new plane, it wasn't hers - it would never be her first plane, it was a replacement - nothing more.

''Sorry it took a while, everyone's looking for every modification under the sun! Almost like we're going to war, or something...'' Lisbeth joked, her voice echoing around the hangar, before she walked over to her. ''Still, I hope you like it...''

The aircraft stood before her was not a replacement for her Lightning, not at all... it was so much better! The generic natural metal scheme had been polished to an almost mirror finish, with light glinting off the airframe from the bulbs above. The vertical stabiliser had been replaced with a new and larger empennage, painted in a perfect gloss white, with red relief along the tip of the fin.

Near the cockpit was where Lisbeth was most proud of her work. Beneath the canopy, and just aft of the shock cone and cannons, was a small piece of artwork. The words ''Wind Fleuret'', written in red and in an ornate serif font, the words pierced through by a sapphire blade. On the other side of the aircraft, were Asuna's player details, alongside a nickname... Corporal Asuna ''Lightning''. She could scarcely believe just what Lisbeth had done for her. A complete stranger, and she'd made sure the aircraft was not only flyable, but even polished the plane too!

''Asuna? Are you-''

''It's... it's... She's fantastic!'' She shouted, as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Lisbeth had become flustered by the sudden outburst and the compliment to her work, and had began rubbing her hand against the back of her neck, through her brown hair, despite the oil still on her hands. ''Heh, yeah, she is!''

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Sat in the rec room that evening, a number of groups had begun to form. Obviously, the various squadrons were all together, with Fuurinkazen at the bar, whilst Liberator had found a booth on the other side of the room, but noticeably, people had started to actually talk to each other, in the anticipation for their first real mission.

On the other side of the room, Kirito, Argo and Koharu had taken over a table, trying to work out any potential problems, and develop a plan around it. Their attempts to plan for what was essentially the unforeseeable had hit a rather obvious problem... they had absolutely no idea what units were being committed. Argo had taken a cursory look along the flight line, but amongst the veritable sea of Phantoms, Tigers and Hunters, only a few craft had really stood out - A Lightning that she'd assumed was Asuna's, looking considerably more shiny than before, alongside a pair of Mirage IIICs parked furthest from the hangars, whilst the aircraft of Fuurinkazen and Liberator Flight had been parked along a different taxiway.

Whilst the various options were considered, and for one reason or other, were relegated to the bin, Argo had looked up to see Asuna sat alone at a table, hidden away from the rest of the room. The look on her face seemed to be one of trepidation, and she wouldn't blame her. There was a reason they were already considering what would be done, should (or when) things go wrong, after all. Still though, it didn't feel right to her just to leave the girl alone with her thoughts like that. She'd seen her in Liz's hangar earlier, and the conclusion she'd drawn immediately was that the girl wasn't coping as well as perhaps she thought she was. ''Ya mind if I ask 'er if she wants ta sit wit' us?'' She asked the group. Kirito shook his head as he returned to looking at a diagram of the terrain they'd be flying through, whilst Koharu gave her a thumbs up and a smile, a pretty conclusive result, if she were honest.

''Asuna, wan't it? Ya wanna come sit with us?''

''Why?'' She asked, without even looking around to see who was talking to her.

''Well, ya never know whose squad ya may get put wit'. Maybe ya'll end up wit' us! 'Sides, no one likes sittin' on their own in a bar!'' Argo grinned, as Asuna stood up and walked over without saying a word.

''Asuna, this is Koharu-'' The black haired girl smiled towards her. ''-and this is Kirito.'' The boy in question seemed to have forgotten he wasn't in his own world, and continued to analyse the terrain map, even mumbling to himself on occasion.

''Is he... always like this?'' Asuna asked, somewhat confused by everyone being completely ignored...

''Not always, but...'' She changed her tone slightly, her voice becoming slightly lower as she leant over Kirito, getting very close to him... ''Kii-bou...'' He soon snapped out of his little trance, shaking his head as he began to look around, before settling on glaring at her. In response, she gave him a knowing grin.

Oh, she knew that annoyed him, but sometimes, it was worth it!

''Sorry, I'm Kirito. You are?'' He asked Asuna.

''I'm Asuna. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.'' With introductions over, Asuna took a seat next to Koharu, and the group continued discussing possible plans, or countermeasures. By the time the evening was over, they had came up with nearly twenty plans, for almost every eventuality - a number that was agreed by all present to possibly be a tad on the side of overkill.

Sat on their bunk bed, Argo watched as the clock struck midnight, and she received a notification. One that every player in amongst the Seventh Air Force would also receive...

[22nd November, 1968. Commencement of Operation: Operatic Society.]

Chapter Text

The next morning had been a surprising wake up call for the players of ACES Online. Mainly as that wake up call was at just after sunrise... or around 04:45 in the morning, after a night of celebrating.

As was to be expected from about twenty pilots, many of whom were still in ''high spirits'' from the night before, as Diavel had euphemistically described them, the meeting that morning had not been a stellar example of airmanship. Between them, only Kirito's small group, Fuurinkazen and Liberator Flight had reported for training anywhere near on time - and even then, Fuurinkazen were still late. Just nowhere near as late as some of them, as players continued to walk into the briefing over an hour late. Asuna honestly wondered why they'd even bother turning up, when they would have absolutely no idea what was going on.

At the suggestion of the base commandant, two days of training sessions would be held, to ready the elements of the strike force and the decoy force for the mission they were about to undertake. The first day would be spent teaching Basic Fighter Manoeuvres, and fighting against opponents on a similar level to them.

To ensure there had been no favouritism in how the fights would go, twenty pairs of lots had been put in a bowl, and the players who drew the pairs would go head to head with each other. It also meant that no one would have too much chance to strategise before take off, and thus, have an information advantage. Kirito and Argo had drawn the short straw of the lot, and would be engaged with Diavel - an interesting fight, and one that he may have been looking forward to, in a weird way as his Phantom was more than a match for the fast flying, but slow turning Starfighter that Diavel flew...

Asuna had drawn her lot, and would be engaging with Liberator Two - Lind, if she remembered his name correctly. She had reservations about that situation, not knowing an awful lot about the F-102 he flew, other than the details that Lisbeth had mentioned to her, after she'd had Wind Fleuret revealed to her. It was an interceptor designed for speed, much like her Lightning, and with a similarly awkward weapon load out, in the form of the AIM-4 Falcon, but as for how it flew? She couldn't answer that one, other than saying that it was, at least on paper, less agile than her Lightning too, and probably slower as well.

Koharu's lot hadn't been much more reassuring, seeing her go toe to toe with a player called Alice. Unlike the others, who'd at least had the faintest idea of who they may be facing, she had no idea of who, or what she may be facing. Kirito had given her some tips on how to fly the Hunter in a fight - the advice being to keep her opponent in a turning engagement within visual range, where the Hunter excelled against most things. Whilst her Hunter had been modified by Lisbeth, the modifications were mostly cosmetic, such as the new crimson fin flash. What hadn't been modified yet, was its air-to-air armament - it still had none, bar its cannons and if she was a very lucky shot, unguided rockets. She really hoped she was fighting someone in a similar aircraft, rather than going head to head with something far superior to her Hunter...

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The first group of players had all taken off together, which had been quite a sight to behold, even for the pilots involved, as a wide variety of fighters from many nations climbed into the morning sky, two by two.

''All aircraft, once you've completed your engagement, break away and head west to rendezvous with tanker support. Callsign for the tankers is Whale.'' The controller in the tower called, as the first players approached the area marked for the BFM training.

Before too long though, the majority of players had reached the marked area, and the tower controller called the first lot of players to the area. ''Lot 1, you're up.''

The Phantom turned away from its orbit, and headed into the area. As they'd circled, it had been decided that, whilst Kirito scanned the sky visually, Argo's head would be firmly on the radar scope. She had a hunch that Diavel would use hit-and-run tactics, releasing Sidewinders from his F-104, before heading to relative safety. No matter what happened though, the Starfighter was at a disadvantage in a dogfight against the Phantom...

Still though, Diavel had put in a good show against the attackers last week, and had managed to down two far more agile MIG-19s in that Starfighter - at least according to the few people she'd talked to - so underestimating him was a very bad idea.

''Liberator Lead, Kirito. Fight's on!'' Liberator Two, acting as a referee called out. That was her cue, as she scanned the radar scope - if she could spot Diavel on her scope, she could volley off a pair of Sparrows and put some pressure on Diavel. The more pressure she could put on him, the more likely he would be to make a mistake, and that would be when the pair could pounce...

A small green spot came on the scope... ''Ah ha!'' She realised where he was in relation to them. ''Kii-bou, he's on our six!'' She shouted forwards.

A grunt came from the front cockpit, as the Phantom was wrenched from horizontal flight into a climbing turn to starboard. Pushed back into her seat, Argo remembered the breathing exercise she'd taught herself during the beta, and after the blackout incident, so as she could at least keep her eyes in the fight. The more eyes they had in the fight, the better! ''Drat! Kii-bou, he's movin' fast! Looks like he's closin' fer a Sidewinder shot!'' She frantically flipped switches, arming their weapons systems, ready for the first ''kill'' of the training round...

''Argo, tell me when he's approaching us, I'm gonna break left, try and get on his tail.'' Kirito called back.

''You just worry about gettin' us there, I'll get tha' shot!'' She replied, watching the radar scope intently, despite the energetic manoeuvring that the Phantom was currently doing.

The aircraft snapped from its climbing right turn, into a descending left bank. Argo scanned the radar, as they reached the top of the turn, and took a glance outside the cockpit as they passed over the apex of the altitude curve. She caught a glimpse of the F-104 racing past them with its afterburner on, the flame trail lighting up the sky around it. Head back down again, she worked on getting a lock with the Sidewinders - with that big of an infrared signature, it'd be hard to miss from their current position...

''Kii-bou, level off! I've got a Sidewinder lock!'' She called, handing off the firing to Kirito...

''Kirito, Fox Two!'' He called over the radio, and Argo could tell that there was probably a cocky smile on his face right now.

''Kirito from Liberator Two, that's a kill, fight's off. Head towards the tankers.''

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Some time later, and Asuna's turn for training came around. ''Lot 5, you're next in the queue. Move to the training area, and await the signal to begin.''

Moving into position, Asuna considered how this fight would go. Wind Fleuret was the faster aircraft, easily outperforming the F-102 in a climbing fight, and should she get behind the F-102, her Lightning had cannons fitted, something the Delta Dagger didn't have the luxury of.

''Liberator Two, Asuna. Prepare for engagement. Hard floor is angels five, weapons hold.'' Diavel called from his F-104, watching from a distance.

Asuna turned the Lightning onto a head on course for the Delta Dagger. If Lisbeth had been right, the F-102's sole armament was the rather poor AIM-4 Falcon, a very early type of guided missile, developed mainly for destroying bombers with limited manueverability, and that had been found to have had abysmal performance in a dogfight situation similar to the one she was about to find herself in.

The first threat was of the AIM-4s locking onto her from head on, as she hadn't considered which variant of the Falcon that Liberator Two could use. Whilst his infrared guided Falcons were next to useless in such an engagement, the radar guided ones certainly weren't. Closing the distance rapidly, Asuna awaited the Fox One call that would tell her she was dead...

No such call came through, and the F-102, still in full afterburner, tore past her and continued straight and true. Thrown for a moment, Asuna wondered exactly what Liberator Two was doing - he wasn't fleeing from the mock dogfight, was he? No, that couldn't be it, he'd have been called back by Liberator Lead, surely? Asuna disappeared into her own thoughts briefly, before snapping back to reality.

''Damn it!'' Asuna cursed for letting herself get lost in her own thoughts as she pulled the control stick to the left. The Lightning immediately began to bank, and she pulled back on the yoke as close to her lap as it would go. Pulling five to six times gravity in the turn, Asuna felt herself pushed against the seat as her vision began to fade. She felt her breathing begin to become erratic, her G-suit constricting her legs and pushing blood back towards her head...

Still with a massively reduced sense of sight, Asuna noticed her attitude and the Lightning began to level out as it completed the turn. She felt the force exerted on her reduce massively, and even felt her head jolt forward slightly as she regained her breath, her vision returning to nearly normal.

BEEP. BEEP. ''Liberator Two, Fox One.'' As if to snap her out of her recovery, that call spelled trouble... a radar guided AIM-4 was in the air, and almost certainly on a collision course for her - or it would've been, had it actually been a live fire, but Asuna took this seriously, throwing the Lightning into a barrel roll.

''Liberator Two from Liberator Lead. That's a miss. Continue.'' Asuna sighed in relief momentarily, and readied her guns. Between her Lightning, at 550 kts, and the F-102, approaching head on at about the same speed, they'd have a closing rate of nearly 2000km/h, approaching twice the speed of sound... She'd have a very brief window, but any window was good for her. The Delta Dagger came into view, and her gunsight lit up, beeping as the reticule hovered over the fighter...

''Asuna, guns!'' With no hesitation, Asuna wrenched the nose of the fighter up, and slammed the throttles to full afterburner, the two aircraft passing each other barely a hundred feet apart. She could even clearly make out the light blue hair coming out from the bottom of Liberator Two's helmet, and the look of complete shock on his face as they passed by...

''Asuna from Liberator Lead. That's a kill. Return to base if you're low on fuel.'' ''YES!'' Asuna congratulated herself as the two aircraft disengaged from the dogfight, and began to head back to Rechlin. Adrenaline pumping through her virtual body, she ran through her battle again in her head. She'd won her fight after all, but much like an exam, it didn't hurt to revise where she'd felt she was weakest.

She'd lost sight of Liberator Two halfway through the fight and had to hope he would play into her hands, which admittedly was exactly what had happened, but she knew that she couldn't rely on every opponent to make that same mistake.

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Koharu cursed her luck sometimes. As they'd formed up, she'd caught a glimpse of Alice's aircraft... a Mirage III. Fast, agile and deadly in a skilled pilot's hands, having been used in the Six Day War, and Yom Kippur War to deadly effect, and at times against aircraft like her Hunter. The Mirage came out on top the vast majority of the time...

''Koharu, Alice, this is Liberator Lead. Commence engagement.'' called out Diavel, returning to the fray after his refuelling stop.

''Alice, to Koharu. May this be a good fight.'' The other pilot announced, her voice having the faintest hint of a German accent in it. The kind of hint that would still be left, even after becoming fluent in a language...

''Same here.'' Koharu answered to herself, scanning the skies around her. Alice's Mirage had the edge in speed, avionics and weapons systems, but should it come into a turning fight, it would take an exceptional pilot to be able to keep up with her Hunter, she reminded herself.

Lacking any form of advance warning that she was about to receive a Magic through the tailpipe, and with little by way of tracking Alice, she maintained an approach that could best be described as ''fly as unpredictably as possible''. Ninety degree turns every few seconds and alternating between climbing and descending in equally random intervals.

Taking a glance over her shoulder, she spotted the Mirage bearing down fast on her from six o'clock high. Briefly she wondered whether her radio was broken, as she couldn't recall hearing a Fox Two call from Alice, and yet the Mirage was only a couple of seconds her, if that. Just what was this girl's plan!?

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Alice would admit she had spent more than a little time as a child reading up on stories of ace pilots. The knights of the air, as they had once been thought of - noblemen, their steeds no longer flesh and bone, but wood, metal and cloth, whilst their swords and lances were replaced by machine guns. Fights that were true tests of skill, as gallant adversaries fought in ferocious melees well above the trenches of a horrific war tearing apart Europe.

That was why she'd logged into ACES Online after all. Granted, she may not have gotten her wish of becoming the next Manfred von Richthofen or Georges Guynemer, fighting in the era of wood and cloth biplanes, but she was certainly going to prove herself as tenacious in combat.

This belief in her own skills went some way to explaining why she had chosen to score a gun ''kill'' on her opponent, rather than relying on her Magic heat-seekers, and she held resolute in the Mirage as she tore through the sky like a falcon descending on its prey. This would be a relatively easy victory, in her mind, as the slower Hunter stood no real chance to detect her, nor evade her as she dove on it...

Cue her prey suddenly snap rolling to the left, having seen the gleaming metal finish of her Mirage barrelling down on it and almost perfectly ruining her shot in only a single manoeuvre. No matter, she thought to herself, rolling the Mirage to the left, ready for the left hand turn...

The Hunter snapped back to the right, and before Alice could do the same, she watched as the tailpipe of the Hunter became visible briefly through the top of her canopy, before she could no longer see the craft. Without hesitation, she pulled back on her stick, pulling the Mirage back into a zoom climb. If she couldn't hit the Hunter on the way back up, she would set up another diving pass...

That was until she spotted the nose of the far slower Hunter pointing towards her, whilst her radio crackled to life... ''Koharu, guns!'' She sighed a breath of relief, almost certain that her shots would miss, and that she could keep up the fight.

''Koharu from Liberator Lead. That's a miss.'' In a moment of overconfidence, Alice let a smug look take over her face. This Hunter pilot certainly had the makings of a fighter pilot, even if they weren't quite there yet - that cannon shot, despite it missing her, was easily done on instinct rather than any form of strategy..

With ease, Alice pulled back on the Mirage's control column, the delta winged fighter nosing up to nearly sixty degrees above the horizon before zoom climbing back to altitude. The Mirage was, without a shadow of a doubt, the superior climbing aircraft - the ATAR 09B providing an additional 4000lbs of thrust in full afterburner, compared to the Hunter's Rolls Royce Avon, and when coupled to the lightweight airframe of the Mirage, the aircraft easily out climbed the Hunter.

Something the Hunter pilot knew, she realised, as the swept wing fighter turned beneath the path of her right hand turn. She would have to snap towards the left, before commencing another diving pass on the fighter below, something that would require a tighter turn than before and would risk her overshooting her prey...

The Mirage snapped to the left, its wings now vertical to the horizon, before she pulled the nose around to reach 45 degrees below the horizon for a diving pass. With her nose in position, the delta winged fighter was now almost inverted, leading to Alice rolling it back to a position where the blood was no longer rushing to her head. She reached down for the switches for her Magic missiles, and armed the missiles, the heat seekers growling into her headset as she approached the tail of her opponent...

GRRRR... ''Alice, Fox Two.''

She shouted, as her Mirage raced to within five hundred metres of her prey. Realising just how close she was, she pulled back on the stick, her fighter responding only moments before a collision that would, without a doubt, have killed her and very likely taken her opponent with her too...

''Koharu, guns!'' In the adrenaline rush that came from such a near death experience, she hadn't heard the call out from her foe over the radio.

''Uhh, okay then... umm, fight's off.'' The sense of uncertainty in Diavel's voice was surprising to her - she had surely won that fight, she thought... ''Right then, you both killed each other, but I suppose Alice fired first...'' He confirmed the kill, and decided to ask questions about whether he should've later.

''Roger, we're heading to the tankers.'' She announced, as she turned away from the engagement, the Hunter following her on her course. A few moments passed, before she mustered her courage. It had been her fault that they'd both nearly died, and so it was her responsibility to apologise... ''I owe you an apology for my conduct during that engagement. It was unbecoming of a pilot, and had luck not been on our side, we could both have perished...''

''Apology accepted... It was Alice, wasn't it?'' The girl flying the Hunter seemed to be accepting of her apology, a sign of a good airman/airwoman in her eyes...

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After landing, the players who'd been involved in the mock dogfights had been called to the planning room, to go over the results of the simulated fights. Kirito had watched the majority of the fights from the ground, and he'd been proven right with some of his hunches. Asuna was a very tactical pilot, but seemed to think first, and fly later - evident when she'd continued to fly on the same course, almost aimlessly, as she tried to search for Liberator Two. Koharu had clearly taken the lessons that he and Argo had given her onboard, but her opponent, Alice, was the definition of a steamroller pilot - hit fast, hit hard, don't let up on your opponent, and don't give them a chance to think. It had only been through good luck (or overconfidence, possibly) that she hadn't been took out on the first pass, especially as the Mirage pilot had almost inexplicably decided not to use her missiles. The near collision had certainly reinforced his view of her as a steamroller pilot - that type of attack certainly hadn't been planned, so much as it had been instinctive, that much he was sure of.

His assumptions about the leader of Fuurinkazen had also proven right. His dogfight with Kibaou had proven to be a spectacle, the Crusader and Tiger being almost evenly matched for nearly four minutes, before Klein had eventually found a weak spot in Kibaou's defence. The trash talk between the opponents had certainly been quite funny in retrospect too, considering Kibaou had been claiming just how easy this fight would be in an upgraded fighter like his...

Klein had shown him why the F-8 had gained the nickname ''The Last Gunfighter'', as a burst of simulated 20mm fire cut through his ego, much like it would've his aircraft. The ranting from Kibaou afterwards had been quite something to behold... or at least it had, before the realisation that he was broadcasting on an open channel, and everyone had heard him. He had soon quietened down, after a burst of laughing interrupted his ranting.

Quite possibly the most impressive of the fights he'd seen was between a Mirage pilot, Eugeo, and his opponent, Yuuki. As Koharu had discovered, the Mirage was a fairly good dogfighter in the hands of the right pilot, but Eugeo had drawn an even shorter straw than Koharu. Yuuki's aircraft, the swept wing F-86 Sabre, from a technological perspective, was almost ten years older and 500mph slower, but the Sabre was an exceptional fighter that, in the hands of a skilled pilot, could easily hold its own against aircraft of a completely different generation.

It had been a battle between a thinking pilot, in the form of Eugeo, his manoeuvers calculated in his to put him in the best possible position, against an instinctive pilot, Yuuki throwing her Sabre around with little care for such a thing as G-forces, sticking with the faster Mirage in the turns, but being easily outclassed in the vertical arena. That fight had lasted nearly seven minutes, an excruciatingly long time for a dogfight, much less one where both combatants could've turned the time at any moment. In the end, Yuuki had won, but it had certainly been a hard fought victory for the tenacious Sabre pilot...

''Why do you think we're being called in, Alice?'' The blonde boy, Eugeo, asked.

''Perhaps we are being given our orders?'' So that was the person flying the Mirage earlier, he thought to himself. Still, he had a suspicion as to why they'd been called in - to form the squadrons officially. Some of them had already formed squadrons, so they'd still be in their groups, he reckoned, but for people like himself, Argo, Asuna and Koharu, and the many solo players still out there, they'd be assigned into squads, and given their callsigns. All of this was purely ceremonial, of course, but it was the first tangible sign to the players that the campaign had truly started.

''Ah, pilots. I'm glad to see all of you made it through the training exercise in one piece.'' The commander of the base commented, before looking at a board behind him. The board contained all of the information that you would want for planning an operation - specifications on the base's air defences, be that guns, fighters or missiles, a number of weapons systems that could be of use, maps of the terrain and ways to mask their approach from Belkan radar sites. ''Tomorrow, at 0530, you will begin Operation Operatic Society. In addition, we have been designated as part of the Osean Seventh Air Force, as the 23rd Fighter Group. As for the mission, I will leave the actual plan to Diavel, but I want you to know that this specifically is not a revenge mission. We are sending the Belkans a warning shot, a display of Osea's airpower.'' Somehow, he doubted that many people would listen to that... much less the Belkans!

''Alright, thank you commander. The first call, will be our order of battle, and for this we'll be assigning you to flights, if you weren't already part of one. Liberator Flight will consist of myself, Lind, Kibaou and Morte - our callsign is Knight. Sleeping Knight Flight, consisting of Ran, Yuuki, Merida and Siune, your callsign will be Twilight. Our teams will be operating as their air cover, and it'll be our job to keep the Belkan fighters off the pathfinders and strike team.'' Diavel turned to face Klein and his team. ''Fuurinkazan Flight, consisting of Klein, Dynamm, Harry One, Dale, Issin and Kunimittz, your callsign will be Samurai. Your flight will form the bulk of the strike team.'' The group agreed with Diavel without even a single word spoken, before he turned to face the unaffiliated players. ''Kirito, Argo, Asuna, Koharu, Alice and Eugeo, your callsign will be Black Blade, and you'll be the pathfinders for this operation - in other words, go in, and make it easier for Samurai to disable the base. Kirito, you are flight leader for this one.'' Kirito felt like pointing out that he was in no way fit to be leader of a conga line, let alone a flight of fighter pilots, but decided that was one to admit privately rather than in front of everyone. Diavel continued to assign pilots to squadrons, whilst Kirito tuned out slightly, thinking of a possible plan...

Now with their assigned tasks, the group continued to listen to Diavel's plan intently. The base they'd be striking - Rhinemartial - was heavily defended, with SA-2 ''Guideline'' missile batteries defending the base from high altitude bombing, whilst combat air patrols were active every hour of the day, and that didn't even begin to cover the myriad of types of anti aircraft guns watching the skies around the base.

All of that meant they'd absolutely need the element of surprise, and an obvious entrance and egress point were visible on a map - the Martial River passed not far from the base, and it was an open secret that Belkan pilots used the valleys nearby for high speed, low level training in the summer, which ensured their planes wouldn't find themselves slamming into the sides of the valleys because the passes were far too small.

''Those SA-2s, even if they can't target us in the valleys, they'll just target the fighters... won't they?'' Eugeo pointed out.

''Hmm, I might 'ave an idea on that one.'' Argo hummed, as she thought something through in her head. ''Kii-bou, reckon we can carry SEAD gear?'' He nodded, realising what Argo was planning... and reminding himself exactly why the motto of the Wild Weasel pilots was abbreviated to YGBSM...

It stood for ''You've Gotta Be Shittin' Me'', which he thought was an apt response to being told your new mission was to point yourself in the direction of the nearest missile launch site, and dive bomb straight towards it. It was pretty much what he was thinking, and he had a feeling that once Asuna and Koharu understood what Argo was getting at... it would be their reaction too, though maybe somewhat less profane.

''Okay then, the Black Blades will be on Wild Weasel duties around Rhinemartial during the operation, allowing Samurai, Twilight and ourselves to enter and egress the combat area safely. Does anyone have any questions?'' If anyone did, they kept them to themselves, and Diavel finished the meeting as the sun began to set.

As the pilots went to get some food, before settling in for the night, Kirito felt something on his face that he hadn't felt in a while - a light but cold speck against his cheek. It was snowing, he quickly realised, and sighed. Not only were they going to need far more time before the mission now, which meant even less sleep, but they'd be doing a run through the valleys in the snow.

Talk about a baptism by fire, he thought idly.

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The canteen was much larger than almost anywhere else on the base, with it being designed to house thousands of players at once. It had clearly once been a hangar, the arched roof that raised significantly above even the third floor being a dead giveaway from an architectural standpoint, whilst the benches had been bolted into the floor, apparently for everyone's safety... whatever that meant.

''Umm, Kirito? What Diavel said, what did he mean?'' Koharu asked, looking over her food, a relatively simple cheeseburger. ''The Wild Weasel bit, I mean.''

''We'll be dealing with the Belkan air defences, so it'll be our job to suppress any AAA guns and SAMs that try to fire on the rest of our forces, as well as stopping any interceptors from taking off.'' He answered, deciding to omit the acronym for the sake of not causing any of them any more distress. The SAMs fired straight at them tomorrow would be enough for that, without him adding any more dread to the mix.

''In other words, we've got the difficult task.'' said Asuna, finishing her meal.

''I believe the saying is ''nothing ventured, nothing gained'', is it not?'' Alice asked, finishing her meal. ''I must admit, I am quite looking forward to the challenge tomorrow, especially if the weather stays as it is.''

''Both of you fly Mirages, right?'' Kirito asked, looking over at the two blondes.

''Indeed, I find it a more... civilised aircraft. A refined balance of power and agility, in a lightweight airframe.'' Alice explained, looking out to the flight line through the window, to her Mirage in particular. Hers was by far and above one of the most distinctive on the field, equalled only by Klein's ocean camouflaged Crusader, the aircraft having been painted in a metallic gold colour, with blue streaks across the Mirage, mostly around the leading edges of its intakes and flight surfaces. In contrast, Eugeo's Mirage was almost tame - the same blue streaks ran across the leading edges, but the airframe retained its natural metal finish.

''I watched your dogfights earlier. You both seem to know your stuff; that Sabre pilot was no easy fight...''

''Certainly! I found myself wishing that had been me, if I'm honest...'' Alice agreed, almost wistfully and with a sense of jealousy in her voice, before realising how insulting that sounded to her new flight mates. ''Of course, you performed admirably Koharu. You certainly have the makings of a fighter pilot yet.'' The way this girl spoke, Kirito couldn't place what it was in her voice that sounded... strange. He'd almost have called it condescending, but that suggested Alice knew that she was doing it. No, instead he'd have said it sounded more like she had a very different notion of this situation to everyone else - almost as if she viewed herself as a knight of the air...

''I just remembered what Alice taught me. I kept calm, and anticipated their next move whenever I could. No unnecessary risks either, not if I could help it.'' Eugeo explained, and his flying style became clearer - his Mirage could easily control the tempo of the battle against aircraft like the Sabre and Hunter, and he would make them dance to his pace, instead of changing his pace to keep up with his opponents. He did wonder whether that more cautious style would really be effective against aircraft with superior performance than the Mirage, but that was a hypothetical for another day...

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - Operation Operatic Society

The morning of the 23rd November 1968 had been a mixed bag, they had all agreed on that much. The weather had decided to take a dramatic turn from ''slightly overcast'', to ''full on blizzard'' and then back to ''overcast'' again, all in the space of one night.

Whilst the weather had improved marginally over the very early morning, the conditions at the base hadn't. No one's accommodation was particularly warm, and many pilots had found themselves huddled together for warmth as the temperatures plummeted into the minuses. Kirito wondered whether it was actually a good plan to attack, given the weather, and the inherent challenges of not only flying at very low level, but in poor visibility too, but he hoped that Diavel actually had a contingency for that...

Unfortunately for him, the Starfighter pilot had indeed come up with a plan, though it involved being awake at 3am, to allow aircraft to be de-iced, before giving them a set of waypoints to follow through the foggy valleys; a way to prevent pilots from flying into any hills, with the resulting explosion alerting the Belkans to their presence. Luckily for them, they wouldn't be flying through valleys the whole way there, only for the last two or three minutes to approach the airbase.

Whilst on the ground, Black Blade and Fuurinkazen had been over the plan:

Kirito, Argo, Asuna and Koharu would attack the airfield, disabling any anti-aircraft that was to be found at the base, be it AAA or surface-to-air missiles, as well as dealing with any interceptors that would almost certainly be scrambling to deal with them. For this role, Kirito had managed to get their Phantom modified by Lisbeth, upgrading it to the Wild Weasel IV standard, with Shrike anti-radiation missiles, a pair of cluster bombs and a set of four Sparrows for air defence, whilst the cannon and Sidewinders were removed to allow installation of the new equipment.

Asuna and Koharu, on the other hand, retained their aircraft as they had been, choosing to load their aircraft for air-to-ground - a pair of 1000lb bombs and a pair of SNEB rocket pods on Koharu's Hunter, whilst Asuna's Lightning replaced the overwing drop tanks with a quartet of integrated fuel tank/rocket pods, a pair of Firestreak missiles on the chin pylons and a pair of 1000lb bombs on the recently installed underwing pylons.

Fuurinkazen would then form the strike package, their Phantoms, Crusader and F-1 loaded with the maximum bomb load for each type, as well as limited self-defence weapons, should it really come down to the line, and the package should need to fight their way out. Hopefully, they wouldn't need it, but it didn't hurt to prepare, something that the guys of Fuurinkazen had agreed on.

The other half of Black Blade, formed of Alice and Eugeo, would have a more challenging mission - disabling the power supply for Rhinemartial first. A power station supplied the base along the other side of the valley, feeding the base's lighting, communications array and most importantly for them... the base's radar system. No doubt that substation would be considerably more well guarded than almost anywhere else in the area. Needless to say, Asuna was in no great rush to change places with the pair though, as she looked around them.

That had all been about two hours ago, but now... ''Black Blade Lead to all aircraft, we're coming up on our waypoint. Samurai Lead, you're element lead for the bombing unit. Black Blade, form up single file. We're going in. Time to break point, one minute.'' Kirito called out, as the Phantom entered a dive, and she did the same, pushing her Lightning into a 10 degree dive. Behind her, the bombers of Fuurinkazen formed up into a diamond formation, and began their descent to 1000 ft.

The four ship group would dash in under the radar, using the river valley for cover, before splitting up at the next waypoint. At that point, the pair in the delta winged striker would take a slightly slower route, arriving only shortly before whilst Kirito's group would take the more direct route, dashing over the town itself and using the ground clutter provided by the buildings to mask their approach, before commencing pop up strikes on the base itself, disabling aircraft on the ground, before Alice and Eugeo disabled their ability to respond at all, before the bombers rendered the airbase unusable for as long of a time as possible...

That was the theory behind it, anyway.

Regardless of theory though, it was time to put it into practice, she thought as the group formed into single file at their attack altitude. The Phantom formed the spearhead of the flight, followed by her Lightning and the Hunter, with the Mirage behind them, ready to peel away.

In brief moments between checking her altimeter and her attitude indicator, she glanced outside the cockpit at the terrain around her. Snow covered treetops raced under their wings, her Lightning almost floating above the canopy. Only ground effect and some extremely gentle movements on the control column were keeping her and the Lightning from becoming a high-speed deforestation device, rather than the fighter-bomber she was using it for.

''Time to target, three minutes.''

Passing the second waypoint, she glanced over her shoulder to see the delta winged attacker breaking away. That brief glance had been enough for the world in front of her to change - the dense foliage and low banks of the nearby river, rising rapidly as the hills forced her to climb slightly. That wasn't quite the terrain she'd expected, and something told her that, considering how sharply the Phantom had pulled up, Kirito wasn't expecting it either...

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Eugeo peered outside the window of his bombardier position on the Mirage IV. Snowy hills passed by at pace below them, as the large delta winged striker blasted its way through the terrain, the snow behind them kicked up into the air by the wash from the twin ATARs.

Checking their position against the map he kept beside him, he started a stopwatch - 90 seconds was all they'd have for this, before the skies around them filled with bullets and missiles.

''Stopwatch... ready. 90 seconds to alert.''

''Understood. A minute to target.'' Alice called back, as she advanced the throttles further. The Mirage responded by pushing them both back into their seats, and Eugeo struggled to pull himself back up to calculate the bombing run they'd have to do.

Thankfully, ACES hadn't been quite so cruel to force crews to do that manually, and offered them a bombing computer in most aircraft, so it was a relatively simple affair of inputting the numbers, and following the computer's results to achieve a precision bombing path. He did that dutifully, as Alice did her level best to keep below the radar, whilst maneuvering through the uneven terrain, and soon got a result, telling him to release the bombs just over two seconds before target at 550 knots.

''Alice, we have an approach speed - 550 knots.'' He told his friend, who pulled back on the stick to avoid a head on collision with an antenna.

''Understood, we're approaching the target now.'' She told him, as he focused his attention on getting the correct release point - they'd only have a single chance at this, else all hell would break loose amongst the strike force... ''On course and at speed. Ready?''

He was, and a curt nod told her as much. ''Now!'' He shouted as he released the bombs. ''Bombs away!''

Below them, eight 1000lb bombs whistled their way through the sky, slamming into their target. From the Mirage, all that could be seen was the fireballs caused by each bomb destroying part of the power station.

''Black Blade Four, target is disabled.'' Alice called, as she put the Mirage into a banking turn. Now would come the difficult part, he realised; evading the hornet's nest they'd inevitably have just stirred up...

/-/

From the cockpit of Asuna's Lightning, the carnage wrought by the Mirage IV was reduced only a small plume of smoke and flames in the distance. ''Ready weapons, ten seconds to target.'' Kirito called out, and Asuna flipped the switches to arm her rocket pods. Even though she could see the smoke rising in the distance, she couldn't be certain that the pair had actually destroyed the facility, but the fact they hadn't seen any fighters fly over the top of them reassured her.

The hill in front of them dropped away to reveal their target - Rhinemartial Air Base. Two long, tarmac runways ran perpendicular to their flight path, whilst a group of Sukhoi fighter-bombers were taxiing to the runway on the left, loaded to the teeth with FAB-1000 bombs and ready to attack the Osean tank columns on the border, no doubt. They were a very inviting target, she thought to herself, before tracer rounds began to illuminate the sunrise sky, whilst black clouds burst around her...

Well, they knew they were there, at least.

''Split off, 'n pick ya targets! Woah!'' Argo called, probably not intending for the last bit to transmit as the Phantom evaded another burst of triple-A fire ahead of them. ''All o' ya! They still got radar guided ack-ack down there, so watch yerselfs!''

She wasn't kidding about that either; she watched as tracer fire lit up the snow drifts around them, and clouds of black smoke erupted around them. She scanned her surroundings quickly, and spotted a prime target on the ground, running parallel to her: the distinctive silhouettes of two MIG-19s were quickly taxiing to the runway, past the Su-7s, and clearly antsy to get up and into a position to shoot them down...

Well, they couldn't have that now, could they?

''Black Blade Two, looks like two interceptors are getting into a position to take off. I'm going to strafe them.''

''Rodge, Black Blade Two, we'll keep the AAA off o' ya!'' She nodded, forgetting briefly that no one could see her gesture, before throwing Wind Fleuret into a high yo-yo to swing back around, and line up a clear shot with the SNEB pods. With any luck, she thought, she might also be able to clear out the Sukhois too, but they weren't her immediate priority - the MIGs were.

The MIG-19, also known as the ''Farmer'', was in many ways a similar aircraft to her Lightning - it was a twin engined, supersonic interceptor designed for short range defence, carrying a limited missile armament that was more than made up for by the triple 30mm cannons it carried. It was also a significantly slower aircraft than her Lightning; her aircraft being capable of Mach 2 easily, whilst the MIG-19 had a maximum speed of around Mach 1.35.

Both were relatively closely matched on a maneuvering front, with the MIG-19 possibly possessing a slight edge over the Lightning, though it was almost certainly a situation where that would depend more so on the pilot, than the plane, she believed from the reading she'd done.

Not that she wanted to test her belief, she reminded herself as the Lightning swung back into a position for a strafing run... only to be nearly deafened as a screeching noise billowed through her headset. The sound of a SAM's radar having gained a lock on her, even at the almost treetop altitudes they were flying at...

''Black Blade Lead, Magnum!'' She heard Argo shout, the alert falling silent a few seconds later. On a ridge top nearby, an explosion flashed against the snow, and Asuna breathed a sigh of relief as she lined up her rocket pods, and flipped the switch to fire them.

Thirty-eight 68mm rockets rippled away from the overwing pods on Wind Fleuret, smoke trails almost blinding her as she continued her pass. A blind pilot was not a good idea, especially this close to the ground, and she pulled back on her control stick, the Lightning responding promptly and climbing as she commanded.

On the ground however, the first MIG-19 had disappeared entirely, the aircraft obliterated by rocket bombardment, with only its outline remaining as a scorch mark on the tarmac, whilst the second had been reduced to a burning mess, not too dissimilar in appearance to her original Wind Fleuret, if she really thought about it...

Scanning the ground around her, she soon sighted a valuable target - a ZSU-23-4, a radar guided, self propelled anti-aircraft gun, moving into position to fire towards Koharu, if the location of its barrels were any indication.

''Black Blade Three, watch out!'' She shouted into her microphone, as she felt the g-forces hit her body in the tight turn.

''Black Blade Three, I'm going for a strafing run!'' The call from Koharu came just moments too late for Asuna to react, as the ZSU fired. Fortunately, its arc of fire fell short, skimming somewhere between the Hunter and the Lightning, before the Hunter found its mark...

In her periphery, 30mm tracer fire from Koharu's Hunter tore across the apron, hitting fighters, concrete, people and fuel stores without a care for their volatility, and igniting whatever it did hit. A small fire had been started near a Su-7, as it was being loaded with some kind of bombs, and in a chain reaction, that fire had soon spread to the rocket pods being stored next to it. Those rocket pods suddenly became the single most deadly thing to the base, the rocket motors triggering and firing a storm of rockets across the base in an arc of fire that, unfortunately for everyone present, happened to include the fuel tanks for the entire base...

A single S-5 rocket was all it took, the rocket tearing into the nearest tank, releasing a gushing torrent of Avgas into the already considerable fires raging uncontrollably on the airfield...

Momentarily, the world around her shone with an orange glow, and she found herself instinctively pulling into a climb, as secondary explosions tore through the apron of the base behind her. Fuel stores detonated with the same force as bombs, sending shrapnel through the air, whilst the heat from the primary explosion almost threw the Lightning around as if it were a toy...

''Black Blade Two, come in! Asuna, come in!'' She could just about make out Kirito yelling into her ear over the ringing of her ears, and she tried to regain her bearings - which way was up, which was down, seeing the world in colour, rather than just black and orange, all things that were very important to a fighter pilot, and fairly important to living a normal life too...

''Asuna! Come in!'' Argo shouted through her mic, as she continued in a ballistic climb. Whilst she wasn't sure of her own senses, her instruments appeared to still be operational, and she had decided, in the spur of the moment, that climbing into reach of SAM and radar guided triple-A defences was less of a risk than slamming into the ground as she regained her senses. The ringing in her ears was almost deafening, and drowned out the myriad of warning sirens currently blaring in her cockpit... a noise she was quite happy to drown out, if she was honest.

That was until tracer fire tore past her canopy, on her left side. The distinctive traces of two separate calibres of weapon, she'd realised quickly. A MIG-17, evidently very unhappy at her for obliterating their base, was now behind her and firing on her...

In any other circumstances, the standard procedure was to accelerate, and leave the MIG in her dust - the Lightning being exponentially faster, and especially in a climb, gave the MIG absolutely no chance of following her in that area. Unfortunately for her, she found herself in a grave situation:

Her Lightning, already at a low throttle setting for the diving attack, was only barely above stall speed now. If she began to turn out of the way, she would bleed off any precious airspeed and stall, becoming an almost sitting duck for the MIG behind her. If she throttled up, the throttles took around four seconds to respond fully, by which time the MIG would've dialled in on her, her Lightning inevitably being pummelled by 23 and 37mm cannon fire - a punishment it simply wouldn't take. It was a high speed interceptor, not a flying tank, after all...

Without thinking, she made a split second decision and forced the stick to the right, the Lightning snap rolling into an inverted position as its nose dropped below the horizon and her airspeed began to rise again in the dive. The dive was brief, but enough to throw the MIG pilot off her tail, as it tried to keep up with the sudden roll and dive, and she noticed the small swept wing interceptor coming straight towards her in an almost vertical dive. A split second application of force on the trigger, and 30mm fire arced through the sky, into the path of the Fresco.

The cannon rounds tore into the airframe of the smaller fighter around the wing roots, and from her observation, both wings promptly sheared off, leaving the now cigar shaped fighter to plummet to the ground. As fire ravaged the tumbling fighter, she thought she saw a trail of fire leaving the cockpit, before it was engulfed in flames as the remains of the MIG slammed into the ground.

Briefly, a surge of pride came over her, at her first confirmed kill. It was a milestone that the vast majority of pilots never reached; claiming a kill in combat, but she found that pride overshadowed by the knowledge that her attacker hadn't survived. Ejecting so close to the ground was a death sentence, she knew that much from her own near death experience... and that had been in level flight. Even if her enemy had ejected, he would've ejected into an inferno around them - she'd sentenced them to die, no matter what they did.

''Black Blade Two, splash one MIG-17.'' She called out, a sombre note in her voice, as she thought about what she'd done, as yet more explosions, this time from Fuurinkazen's bombs, tore apart Rhinemartial even further.

/-/

About twenty thousand feet above the battle, Yuuki listened into the radio calls as Twilight Flight approached the operational area. The faster aircraft of Liberator Flight had already reached the combat zone, and already hit bingo fuel, forcing them to bug out, meaning their job was keep the attention of any CAPs already in the area, and get the attention of any heading towards the strike package; a job that in any other context would've been madness...

Fortunately for them, Black Blade had done such a good job of infiltrating the base's defence network that no fighters had been able to get off the ground in time to be anything more than target practice, and the few fighters that had been airborne were running on empty by now, thanks to their engagement with Liberator Flight, meaning their job had become purely one of escort, to ensure that no fighters sought retribution on Black Blade or Fuurinkazen as they left the combat area.

''Siune, anything?'' Her sister called out, leading the formation from her Sabre. Siune's Lansen had a significant advantage in that it actually had a radar, something that almost all of the other aircraft in Twilight Flight lacked, other than Merida's Sabre Dog, which did have a radar... but one that was poorly optimised for targeting aircraft like the ones they were expecting to fight - had they been hunting bombers, it would've been adequate, but not so much against fighters...

''I have a flight of aircraft approaching. Heading is 260, speed is... I would say around 350 knots. They are below us.''

''Understood, Siune. Twilight Flight, prepare for a fight.''

''Apologies, but we have more aircraft on radar. Four of them.'' If they hadn't taken off from Rhinemartial, then they had to have come from elsewhere.

''Twilight Lead to all aircraft, additional bandits are approaching at our level. We'll keep their attention as best we can, but watch out for stragglers!'' Ran called out, whilst Yuuki kept her eyes on the horizon. Just below her, she spotted four sets of trails passing underneath them - single engined fighters, swept wing with a t-tail by the looks of them... MIG-17s.

The MIG-17 was an aircraft that was a cause for concern for any fighter in the attack force; despite its obsolete looks, with its stubby looking intake nose, cigar shaped fuselage and swept wings, it packed a mean punch with a pair of 23mm cannons, and a single 37mm cannon, both firing from underneath the nose, and could keep up in a turning fight with almost everything else in the game, be that their Sabres; aircraft it was specifically improved to counter, or lightweight fighters such as the Gnat and F-5...

Even in fights that the radar less interceptor had no right being in, whether that had been facing down Phantoms and Crusaders above the jungles of South East Asia, or tangling with the aces of aces above the Sinai Peninsula, it was telling that the aircraft had almost forced a complete rethink of tactics on both sides of the Iron Curtain when it came to air combat...

''Sis, I see four of them below! I'm going after them!'' She felt the Gs against her as she snapped the F-86 into an inverted position, and let the nose drop below the horizon. Her Sabre was a better aircraft in a dive, and from what she could see, had the advantage over the MIG in having air-to-air missiles equipped, even if they were the early -9B model Sidewinders.

''Twilight Two, I'm coming with you!'' She heard Ran call out as she felt the Sabre diving from the sky, the needle of her altimeter spinning as she dove on the unsuspecting interceptor. She armed the six M2 machine guns in the nose, and readied her fingers on the trigger as she pulled in behind the MIG, and fired a short burst of tracer fire. Sparks flew from the plane ahead, but it remained airborne, and under control, much to her chagrin, and she fired off another burst. Yet more .50 cal rounds tore against the MIG, and unlike the previous burst, something happened this time!

The MIG rolled inverted, before she watched as small fragments of the plane came off ahead of her. With little warning, the MIG nosed over into a dive, falling to earth as fast as was humanly possible, and she snapped her Sabre into a similarly fast descent, despite the calls from her sister that the MIG wasn't flying... it was crashing.

Chasing the MIG down through 7000ft, she realised the first error she had made in her pursuit of the MIG; one that was currently threatening to tear her plane apart... the drop tanks. They were still on the plane, and she was rapidly approaching the sound barrier, the severe buffeting that her plane was going through telling her that much. Frantically, she flipped the switches that controlled the fuel system, and the drop tanks in particular, trying to jettison them and prevent them from just tearing away and pulling part of her Sabre with them.

In the nick of time, she was able to jettison the tanks, the metal tanks tumbling off backwards into her jet wash, spinning violently. She pulled back on her stick, righting the Sabre as it raced towards the ground, and it was then, that she noticed her second error, her throttle wasn't responding. She scanned the cockpit quickly, and noticed her mistake - she'd left the fuel source set to her drop tanks, and with those now gone...

Well, she was no engineer, but from her knowledge, engines didn't tend to work without fuel. ''Sis, my engine's flamed out. I'm restarting it!''

''Twilight, I'm covering Yuuki, watch for any more fighters!''

Quickly, she rushed through the engine relight procedure, as the fighter fell fast towards the ground. The F-86 was many things, but a glider it was not. It was far too heavy to be an effective glider, as well as being far too fast to glide efficiently, both of which told her that she didn't have to long left before she ran out of altitude, and her Sabre became nothing more than a scorch mark on the ground.

The myriad of switches flipped, and the best sound that Yuuki had heard in a long time filled her cockpit; that of her J47 roaring back to life. ''Twilight Two, engine's restarted. I'm back!''

She checked her altitude quickly - 2100 feet - and realised that, at the speed she'd been descending at, even a few more seconds would've spelt disaster for her. ''Too close there!'' With that realisation, she let slip a small laugh, and put the Sabre into a climb. As she scanned her surroundings, she spotted a plume of black smoke not too far from where she'd pulled out from her spiralling dive, confirmation that the MIG she'd chased had been out of control, rather than fleeing. ''Twilight Two, I think I got a kill.'' She called out.

''Yuuki...'' She could sense her sister's disproval of the lengths she'd gone to in order to get that kill, but soon found herself distracted from that, as an unknown set of voices came across the radios...

''Bronze 1 to all Bronze Flight... destroy the Osean attackers...'' The voice called out, with a distinct German accent. ''For the fatherland!''

''Uhh, Black Blade Four here... we all heard that, right?'' Eugeo, the Mirage pilot she'd fought with yesterday asked, a sense of discomfort in his voice

''Samurai Lead, yeah, we did. Betcha any money they'll be Belkan aces of some kind...'' The red haired leader of Fuurinkazen acknowledged.

''Ya wanna tek' that bet, Samurai Lead? 50 credits, an' yer on!''

''It is a shame we cannot dogfight in this...'' Alice, the other Mirage pilot mused sadly, the blonde sharing her enthusiasm at the situation. ''Alas, there will always be another day...''

''Twilight Lead, all aircraft. I have a visual - four aircraft, moving fast on the deck, full afterburner. Looks like they're MIG-21s.''

''They must'a flown like devils ta get here this quickly!''

Looking to her side, she spotted the mottled camouflage of the MIGs, the natural metal underneath glinting against the rising sun, as two of the four broke formation in a turn to the left... ''Two of them are breaking away, looks like they're heading south west!'' She quickly realised where those two were heading... right for the Mirage IV. ''Black Blade Four, two of them are coming for you! Twilight Two, I'm going after them!'' Without thinking, Yuuki snapped into fighter pilot mode, eager for her second kill of the day, even though she knew she stood very little chance of doing much against the much faster MIG-21s if they kept chasing the Mirage... though, if she could get close enough, she could fire off a Sidewinder, and force them to break away, and hopefully scatter.

''Looks like you're getting your wish, Alice!''

If Samurai Lead had been right with his comment, then these guys weren't the usual pilots, and were instead Belkan aces, the very best of the Belkan Air Forces. No way would any of them be stupid enough to engage her in a turning fight, she thought, which meant she'd have to rely on getting their attention, and holding it. Not ideal, but she was certain she could make herself an annoying enough target for them to deem her worth their time...

''Indeed. Perhaps this will be an interesting day after all...'' She could almost imagine there was some kind of smile on the other end of the radio transmission there.

As she put her Sabre onto an intercept heading, she put her head to strategising, for once. If she could close the gap just a little, then she could launch off a Sidewinder at the MIGs, and with a small amount of luck, she would still be within the 10km launch range, and the 20 degree tail chase attitude, to fire off a shot. She had absolutely no idea whether that would work, but if nothing else, it would draw them back towards her, and away from Alice and Eugeo.

Flipping the switches, her Sidewinders began to search for the exhausts of the MIGs, and soon found a target... hopefully, one that wasn't the sun, as the training round the other day had. A growling filled her headset, and she fired. ''Twilight Two, Fox Two!''

The missile tore through the sky, considerably faster than her Sabre, and much faster than its target. Only seconds passed by, the flight time of the Sidewinder leaving the rail, to the time it reached the MIG feeling so much longer than the five seconds it had actually been, before it blasted shrapnel and debris into its unlucky victim.

''Scheisse! Bronze 3, I am hit!'' Alarms bellowed in the background of the radio call, as it's pilot muttered curses under his breath. The damaged MIG, now trailing far more smoke and fluid than it had any right doing so, lurched to the right before its nose dipped below the horizon. At only a thousand feet, the MIG stood little chance of recovery, nor did its pilot stand any of escaping the doomed aircraft, and it slammed into the snowy ground a few moments later, almost inverted.

Around ten seconds behind the MIGs, Yuuki looked over the fireball approaching her right wing, and adjusted course to avoid a face full of debris, fuel and fire. ''That blasted bag of bolts! They killed Klaus!'' She heard the other MIG pilot shout angrily into his mic, before he snapped the MIG into a tight turn to the left, to face her.

She threw her Sabre into a turn to keep with the MIG; at this distance, any burst from her guns would simply drop away well before the target, and her remaining Sidewinder would simply sail away harmlessly into the sky, the MIG's turn having defeated any lock she could get on it. She really did have no options but to keep him in sight, and hope his anger caused him to make a mistake that let her exploit the Sabre's superior manueverability.

That mistake soon came, as the MIG closed the distance on her, hell bent on killing her with a gun run. The MIG-21 had an arguably superior armament than her Sabre; a single 30mm NR-30 autocannon, versus her six .50cal M2 machine guns, and just a single round from that 30mm would be bad news for her Sabre, especially in a head-on pass, where the most obvious targets were herself, and the massive intake that led to her engine.

''Yuuki, leave him to me.'' Ran called out, and Yuuki looked up momentarily. A silver glint dove in from above her, and the nose shone orange briefly, as three distinct bursts of tracer fire ripped through the sky. The first slammed into the MIG, shaking it, but doing little to break it away from its attack path. The second burst hit home along the starboard side of the plane, tearing metal skin and fragments from the plane and forcing it into a turn to its damaged side.

The third burst, however, was the killer blow, as tracer fire tore throughout the fuselage. Probably only a second passed by, but the MIG, now stricken and already limping, exploded violently. Its right wing had torn completely from the aircraft, whilst flames poured across the rear fuselage from the now gaping hole that had once been a wing, and highly volatile jet fuel poured into the slipstream. Into the flames, and the sunrise behind, the pilot ejected, and Yuuki broke sharply to her right, an attempt to avoid colliding with the both the burning wreck, and the ejected pilot.

After a few moments, a parachute could be seen, as the pilot floated down to earth below. ''Twilight One, I have a kill. Pilot ejected safely'' Ran called out, as Yuuki scanned the skies around them.

''Verdammt! All Bronze pilots, return to base.''

''Das ist nicht dein ernst!?''

''Ja bin ich. Return to base, 2. That is an order.''

What was said after that, Yuuki wasn't sure, but it sounded extremely unhappy. ''Hell yeah! That showed them!'' Shouted one of the members of Fuurinkazen. ''Whoever's in the Sabres, the drinks are on us when we get back!''

''Twilight Four, my scope is clear. It looks like all enemy aircraft have been downed or are retreating!''

A few cheers came across the radio, and Yuuki gave a small grin to herself. They'd actually managed to win! Not that she'd doubted that they would, mind you, but it had been their first mission, and they'd gone out and kicked Belkan butt!

/-/

The return to base had been nothing short of jubilant for the majority of the pilots, with almost constant radio chatter and banter for the entire flight back to the base. Considering how early they'd left from Rechlin, it honestly surprised Argo just how many players had turned out to watch them arrive back at the base; actually, it had surprised her just how many had been awake, and whipped up into a joyful frenzy by 9am!

He'd had an even bigger surprise when they were all surrounded on the ground, and the pilots of Fuurinkazen and Liberator were carried aloft as heroes. They nearly had been too, but to absolutely no one's surprise, they'd all politely asked to not have the same treatment, deciding that, as it was still morning... some extra sleep wouldn't go amiss, Kirito had decided.

They all needed it, to be honest. She had no doubts that his nerves were shot full of holes; not unlike their Phantom, as it had turned out, as small rifle calibre rounds had put small, barely noticeable holes in a number of important areas, the intakes and landing gear being two of the most obvious areas of damage. Still, the Phantom looked absolutely pristine compared to Asuna's Lightning, the natural metal stained with soot, whilst small fragments of metal stuck in the fuselage, giving the interceptor the look of a slightly singed hedgehog.

Throughout the morning, and whilst Kirito and Asuna had gone to their barracks to sleep, the entire base had seemed to be in the highest of moods, except for one obvious exception, Koharu. The raven haired girl had taken up a seat on the rear doorstep of the barracks. ''E'rryone else is cheerin' and celebratin', an' ya just seem t' be commiseratin' 'bout summat. Penny fer yer thoughts, Ko-chan?'' Argo took a seat on the doorstep next to the girl.

''Huh?'' Startled, Koharu gave a gentle smile, far from the look of happiness that she'd have expected from someone who'd done something spectacular only a few hours earlier, before she carried on. ''Oh, no, I'm fine. Just not a fan of big crowds, that's all.''

Argo raised an eyebrow at the denial, especially given there didn't appear to be a big crowd around. ''Yer sure on that? Ya look like summat's botherin' ya, that much I do know...''

''It's nothing, just...'' Koharu closed her eyes and sighed, her head hanging low. ''All of this, it was my fault. Everyone was in danger because I messed up, and annoyed the Belkans. People did get hurt because of me...''

Suddenly, Argo realised why she was sat out here alone, and she could easily see why the girl was struggling - guilt was one hell of a feeling, and misplaced guilt, as Koharu's was, was much worse. She hadn't done anything wrong, and there wasn't an easy way to predict that her leader would drag her out over the Belkan border, so she could hardly be blamed for that one either. Actually, most of the blame lay on her snake of a flight leader for that - it was a shame that he'd seemingly escaped to somewhere, else she'd be near the front of the queue for dragging him back to Rechlin, and administering her own form of justice... ''Ya want my opinion? Ya made a mistake in trustin' someone who just wanted a scapegoat. He took ya somewhere dangerous, an' left ya t' die. That ent' yer fault.'' She said. ''If I were ya, I'd go an' get yer head down fer a bit.''

''You're probably right. I'm going to get some rest, and I'll see you guys later, for dinner.''

'' 'fore ya go, we're gonna have food in the officer's mess tonight. Diavel asked us, some kinda celebration.'' Argo remembered, just before Koharu left. Koharu simply gave her a smile in response, as she walked away.

/-/

The officer's mess on site was inside a building to the south of the recreation facilities, and gave off the vibe of a sixties smoking lounge, from all of those old puppet sci-fi shows he'd watched way back when. Live music played from the piano across the room, in the form of soft jazz music, whilst the bar staff wore slick black waistcoats, and neatly pressed tuxedos. As he wasn't an officer, he didn't own a formal ''mess dress'', and so he had settled on a black tuxedo and tie himself; the game handling the fitting luckily, as he couldn't say that he knew of a tailor...

''Your drink, sir.'' A waiter interrupted his thoughts, and he took the glass of... something from them.

''Umm, thank you.'' He replied quietly, and awkwardly, as he fiddled about with his tie, his discomfort at the formal attire painfully apparent to even the least observant observers.

All in all, it was the type of place that Kirito had felt extremely out of place in, and that was why he had been extremely glad for Klein's invitation to all of them, to join them in the bar for their version of a post-mission debrief... a meeting that he imagined involved copious amounts of alcohol and greasy food. Actually, the latter part didn't sound that bad, come to think of it!

Maybe later, he thought, as he tried to keep his focus on the then and now. After a brief scan of the room, he spotted the blonde pair of Black Blade across the room, and headed over to them. As he got closer, he realised that the pair, despite not being officers of any kind, were wearing what appeared to be some kind of dress uniforms - different styles, but dress uniforms nonetheless. Alice's dress uniform was a white jacket with epaulettes, lined with gold trim and a buttons, with black trousers and boots, whilst Eugeo's was a slightly different design, lacking the epaulettes, but retaining the solid colour jacket, his being a deep shade of blue with silver trim, both making them stand out somewhat when compared to the black suit he wore. Not that he minded, the less he could do to stand out, the better, in his mind.

''Kirito!'' Eugeo called out to him, as he headed over to the pair.

''Hey, do either of you know why we're here?'' He asked, hoping the pair would have known a little more than he did in this situation.

''Sadly not, we were only informed of this a few hours ago, as you were.'' Alice answered. ''Still, it is lucky that we bought these on the first day... else we would have had to scramble for something to wear!''

''Yeah, this place doesn't exactly look like the type of place that you can get away with smart casual.'' Kirito joked.

''It does feel rather... stuffy.'' Eugeo agreed.

''Indeed, there is a fine line between classy and pompous... and this is well over it.'' Alice added her opinions to the conversation. ''Still, if free drinks are on the table, then you will not find me complaining!'' Eugeo gave her a slightly disapproving look, before shaking his head and laughing softly to himself, and Kirito found himself smiling at the pair. He hadn't known them more than a day, and he already knew how their dynamic worked; Alice was more of an action type, preferring to make her intentions known with actions, rather than long speeches, but with that came a degree of recklessness, charging into things as she had done in her mock dogfight. Eugeo was far more reserved, and chose to reason his way through things, the reckless side of Alice tempered by his rational side, whilst the overly cautious and reserved side of Eugeo was pulled from the shell by Alice's headstrong nature, a neat balance in their friendship.

His thoughts at the pair were soon interrupted as he looked around the room, and noticed the girls over by the door. Argo had dressed the least formally, unsurprisingly, wearing a tan knee length dress, whilst Asuna and Koharu both looked as if they were going to some kind of ball, rather than... whatever this was supposed to be.

He'd known Argo long enough to know her opinions on formal occasions - and those thoughts could be summarised as ''no thanks'' - but to see her in something that wasn't her flight suit, it felt weird to him. Almost like looking into the uncanny valley in a way... and he reminded himself to never say that particular thought aloud, less Argo get creative with her retribution!

Koharu and Asuna though, both had had a similar idea in how they should come - both wearing flowy dresses that made them the centre of attention, and that was something he was sure they'd both realised, as players looked towards them. In Koharu's case, he couldn't help but look at her, and see Suguha stood there. He wasn't sure why, but something about her reminded him of his cousin; maybe it was her push to constantly train, maybe it was that both girls were athletes, or maybe it was the awkwardness in the stuffy atmosphere.

Asuna, on the other hand, he soon realised something very important... she was extremely attractive. Technically, that wasn't a realisation, as he'd known that since they'd met, but it was now that it truly set in. She seemed to be adapting to the environment almost naturally, as if she knew how to handle it and had rehearsed many a time for such a situation. Luckily for him (and what little sense his internal monologue still made at this point), they were interrupted.

''Ah, if it isn't the pilots of the hour! Come over, come over!'' Diavel had noticed them, and invited them all over to their section of the lounge. He couldn't help but feel less like the ''heroes of the hour'', as Argo had told him they were being described as around the base, but rather some kind of novelty for the commanders to view as proof of their own success... ''I'm glad you took us up on our offer to join us! I will admit, I'm a little disappointed that our ace killers couldn't make it, but it can't be helped.''

Of all the looks of distrust and disdain given to Diavel by himself and everyone around him, Asuna's was the one that looked the most neutral - a look that could be described as ''diplomatic''. It wasn't one that betrayed any emotion behind it, even though he could tell there was certainly an annoyance there at the seeming disdain for Twilight and Fuurinkazen for not joining them.

''Still, though... a toast.'' He picked up a glass, and everyone followed suit. ''A toast to a job well done!'' The toast offered was clearly not an enthusiastic one, as everyone only barely lifted their glasses, saying very little before they took a drink.

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''A toast to new friends and victory!'' Klein raised his glass, and the members of Fuurinkazen, Twilight and the Black Blades raised their glasses enthusiastically (and for a few of them, quite possibly drunkenly).

''To new friends and victory!'' Shouted almost everyone present. Eugeo really did have to thank Klein for inviting them to this, the more relaxed atmosphere of the bar being a far nicer place to be for them than the officer's lounge. Diavel probably hadn't meant to insult the others, but it was telling that he'd said it aloud, and got no backlash from his colleagues, he thought.

The bar was a strange place to him though, as it more reminded him of what he thought a bar looked like as a child - dance floor included, which was currently where Asuna and Koharu had ''asked'' Alice to join them. If that was their definition of asking, he thought, then perhaps he didn't want to see their definition of ''demanding''... Still though, she looked to be having a decent time, and it wasn't as if Alice couldn't say no, so it hadn't been his place to stop them.

''So, Alice an' ya, I take it ya go back a long time?'' Argo asked him, snapping him back to reality.

''Argo!'' Kirito interrupted her, almost annoyed at her blunt line of questioning...

''No, it's fine!'' He smiled back. ''It's no secret anyway, we've been friends since we were young, just being kids back home.'' He pictured them both, much younger than now, frolicking around carefree. ''No doubt she's the leader out of us, but she's always been a little...'' He struggled to find the words for Alice; impulsive fit perfectly, but he felt it had a connotation to it.

''Reckless, headstrong?''

''Once she's got an idea in her mind, she will go for it. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change her for the world, but she needs someone to temper that sometimes.'' He glanced over to the dance floor, to see Alice now very much leading both Asuna and Koharu in what could only be described as less of a ballroom dance, but rather a ballroom blitz... He laughed slightly, before deciding to go and help the unfortunate girls out of their situation. ''I should go and... yeah.'' He said, as he got up and headed over to the dance floor...

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As Eugeo left to go and extricate either Alice, or Asuna and Koharu, Argo spoke up. ''Fifty credits say they end up together.'' She said.

''I'm not betting on my friends' love life, Argo.'' He told her outright, putting paid to any discussion about betting. ''Wonder why you're interested in their love life though...'' He asked, sceptically. He wasn't concerned about her going out of her way to anything truly ridiculous, but he would be lying if he didn't have a worrying feeling that Argo was going to play matchmaker...

''Wha', can't a gal say wha' she thinks about, without suspicions, Kii-bou?'' She held a hand to her chest, faking offence at his questioning. ''I am hurt, you know... 'sides, ya just know it.'' She added on at the end, with a grin. ''An' speakin' o' crushes...'' She mumbled...

''What was that?'' He asked quickly, and Argo coughed into her hand as Asuna and Koharu, both looking as if they'd seen slightly more than they bargained for by dancing with Alice, returned to the table.

''That girl is something else...'' Asuna stated, as she sat down.

''Hey, Ko-chan? Can I talk ta ya about somethin', in private?'' The slightly exhausted girl looked towards him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He may have known Argo for the longest out of any of them... but she was a mystery to even him sometimes.

''Umm, sure?'' She answered, as they headed off somewhere, offering a grin to Kirito. A grin of which the importance was slow to dawn on him, as Asuna sat next to him, but one that did eventually dawn on him...

Damn that rat.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - None Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Almost a month had passed since the Osean Air Force had launched a series of airstrikes on Belkan positions across the Great Lakes region, reducing a fair portion of the Belkan Air Force's forces to charred metal and scorched rubber, whilst a number of Naval strikes had damaged the Belkan naval forces in the docks, at the mouth of the Wyvern River.

That escalation had also had another, rather more unintended consequence: the airspace along the corridor known as Airway 26-10 was far busier than it had ever been before now. Traffic that had formerly passed unmolested across the Great Lakes was subject to interception by both sides; though Belka had been the far more prevalent responder, even probing close to the published airway on at least one occasion. Belka had apologised, and suggested that Osean jamming aircraft had caused the pilot to veer off course dangerously, but few, if any, people actually believed that to be the case...

Despite the tensions and the sabre rattling between Osea and Belka though, things hadn't really changed much for anyone. Both countries still shared a land border after all - though the way they were talking at the moment, you could be forgiven for thinking that they'd sooner try to change the geography of the continent than, say, admit fault for their own actions.

''Kestrel 2901, good evening. You are cleared to maintain flight level three five zero, and maintain your current heading. Contact when passing ADBAT.''

''Roger, 2901. Will call back when passing ADBAT.''

An Osean International Airways Boeing 707 making it's way from Stafford City, in the south of the Osean Federation, to Juliet Point, on Wellow; Kestrel 2901 was just another flight that evening, one of tens that the young controller would be handling during his shift, and his attention would soon shift onto another flight entering the initial contact phase, around fifty nautical miles north of Rutherford - an Air Ustio Ilyushin Il-62 en route to Oured.

''Uhh, good evening. Ustio 668, we are, err, cruising at 310.''

''Ustio 668, we have you on radar. Continue cruise on current course. Traffic is at 2 o'clock low, a Boeing 747, callsign Kestrel 013.''

''Understood, 668. Continue cruise, watch for traffic at our two low.'' The crew radioed back, and his attention moved again onto another aircraft; the aforementioned 747.

''Kestrel 013, traffic is an Air Ustio Ilyushin-62 at your ten o'clock, high. Contact when you have visual on them.''

''Roger, Kestrel 013. We have a visual on traffic.'' The jumbo jet's crew responded, only for their message to partially muddled by static. ''Uhh, Rutherford, (indecipherable) off our ten, right?''

''Roger, Kestrel, traffic is at your ten o'clock.'' Without thinking, the young controller moved onto a potential traffic conflict in the north-eastern quadrant, a Sapinish DC-9 and an Aurelian Boeing 737 that were soon closing towards each other.

If he'd taken note of the puzzled tone of the jumbo jet's call, he would've soon noticed that the Il-62 was no longer heading due west, as it should've been, but was now badly off course, heading north-west and approaching a restricted zone over the Great Lakes...

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Onboard the Ilyushin, the flight was a relatively calm affair as the crew settled in for the cruise. The flight to Oured was only a short two hour shuttle service, and as it was every night, the four engined aircraft was packed - every seat had been taken up, and the plane had nearly reached its maximum take off weight with the passengers and their luggage.

''Ahh.'' The captain, Hermann, groaned as he leant back. The Il-62 may have been a rugged and dependable workhorse, but its crew comfort was sorely lacking in comparison to the equivalent Osean jets he'd seen parked in Oured. He'd briefly considered asking the crew on the Kestrel flight whether he could come with them instead, simply for the creature comforts those Boeings offered!

''Glad we only have to go to Oured... can you imagine taking this to Cinigrad!''

''Don't give them ideas Viktor!'' The navigator laughed along, as he continued to plot their course on the map. Normally, his job would be to fly the shortest course possible to Oured, but thanks to the storm currently battering Oured, they'd been advised by operations to take a longer route that would take them over the Great Lakes, before a sweeping turn towards Oured Bay, and then to Oured itself.

They couldn't say they were thrilled with the option, aware that their path would take them rather close to where both the OADF and the Belkan Air Force were conducting operations, a risky prospect for a civilian airliner, especially considering how trigger happy both sides seemed to be at that moment...

''Rutherford, Ustio Six-six-eight, requesting a left turn to, err, one-eight-zero degrees.'' The call went unanswered, to the annoyance of the radio operator. ''Rutherford, this is Ustio Six-six-eight, did you receive our last?'' He asked once again... to no reply. ''They must be on their tea break...'' He muttered in frustration.

''Mikhael, have they gotten back yet?''

''No, I'm trying to raise them on the back up frequency too, but no contact.''

''Understood. Keep trying, Mikhael, we will continue to watch our course.'' Hermann instructed as he looked at his instruments. The plane was stable at 31,000ft, and continuing on a course of 300 degrees... ''Hans, our course? It should be 260, shouldn't it?''

''Yes, 260, why?''

''We have drifted then. Current heading is 300. Hans, work out where we might be - assume we were on course at the last waypoint.''

''Understood.'' Silence ruled over the cockpit for the next few minutes, broken only by the mutterings of the navigator as he worked out their position... ''Oh hell!''

''Where are we?''

''I think... I think we have strayed into the restricted airspace, sir!''

''Shit! What heading back!''

''Turn err, ninety degrees, we need to get out of here!''

With little by way of warning, an explosion tore through the the Ilyushin and rocked it violently, whilst the calm air inside the jet tore through a hole somewhere in the plane, whipping up in a cacophony of swirling air, mist and a howling gale as it rushed backwards. Any unsecured charts were pulled into the air, dragged to the rear wall of the cockpit, whilst the captain wrenched the controls to the right, desperately fighting the plane's new habit of banking sharply to the left...

''What the hell was that!?''

''We've lost number two! Cabin pressure's dropping rapidly too!'' The explosion had not only tore the air in the cockpit from them, but even some of the dials had come loose too. ''Hell, number one's failing too!''

''Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Ustio 668, we are... we have a dual engine failure, and we are depressurised. We need to land immediately!''

''Unidentified aircraft, this is the Belkan Air Force. You are intruding on restricted airspace. You will follow us... or the next shot will not be a warning shot.'' A distinctively Belkan voice announced, and the captain looked outside, just besides them. A metallic glint, that of a Belkan MIG-21 interceptor, with its pilot making hand signals to them - the signals to follow the interceptor.

''Bastards, we are civilian! What heading is Osean airspace?''

''Captain...'' The co-pilot seemed very hesitant at the implication.

''We won't make it. Osean airspace is at least ten minutes away, they will have shot us down before then...''

''Damn it! Head for the border anyway!'' Unbeknownst to him, that one act of defiance would go down in history as the discarded match that lit the fuse of war...

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Asuna had learnt one thing over the past week - she really did not like Quick Reaction Alert duties.

Despite the high stress levels of everyone involved, there was a constant sense of boredom throughout the entire thing; an itch that couldn't be tempered either, as she was needed to be in the cockpit of Wind Fleuret, and ready to take off, in only two minutes from alert.

It was physically demanding, mentally demanding, and most importantly... unimaginably boring.

It was rare that anything happened to warrant a QRA launch, and Asuna knew that. The only things that justified a QRA launch were incoming bombers, or an in flight emergency that required immediate assistance... neither of which were particularly common, the first having been dealt with briefly, by disabling Rhinemartial, whilst the second was a circumstance with a probability that could be described, charitably in her opinion, as "almost never".

As Black Blade had been assigned all of today's duties, they'd drawn lots to see who would take which duties - herself and Koharu taking the late evening duty, which involved sitting in a shack, not far from the edge of the taxiway.

After about an hour of sitting in what could only be described as an awkward silence, with momentary interruptions, the two girls had begun chatting, and both had found an almost uncanny amount of similarities in their circumstances; both had little, to no experience in gaming - something that had shocked Asuna, when she realised she had more experience on that frontier than Koharu, the black haired girl's only prior gaming experience being a mobile game almost a decade earlier - and had taken a dive into Full Dive as a way of getting some degree of rest from family expectations.

They would've had a deeper discussion, but the QRA seemed to choose its moment perfectly, and took the briefest of moments to make itself known.

"Alert! Alert! Launch Procedures Active!" bellowed through the base, and almost deafened them in the shack.

She just had to say how boring it was, didn't she?

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Air traffic control had informed them of the situation as they began their take off roll: An Air Ustio Ilyushin Il-62 had strayed out of its planned route, and into the Belkan Air Defence Zone known as Area B5P, before they'd realised their mistake and made a run for the friendly airway...

That hadn't gone quite so well, and civilian air traffic controllers at Rutherford had noticed the Air Ustio flight with a pair of radar signatures following it; no doubt Belkan interceptors, probably MIGs of some kind, and clearly not willing to let their target slip away. As they climbed out from Rechlin, the two girls had decided on their course of action. Asuna's Lightning was the faster aircraft by far, and as a result, she would take the lead in reaching the developing situation, whilst Koharu's Hunter was strictly subsonic in the climb, and so would be at least a few minutes behind her.

''Goldeneye, Black Blade Two, distance to target?''

''We have the aircraft at twenty-five miles. You'll be closing from its seven o'clock.'' In full afterburner, she knew that she would not have long on station, the Lightning, even with overwing tanks equipped, having a rather miserable combat radius, meaning that she had two options - decelerate to subsonic speeds, where the fuel consumption would be lower, but take longer to reach the operational area, or continue at just over the speed of sound, and hope the emergency didn't require a long flight... and if what she was seeing was the plane, well, she was certain it wasn't going to be a long flight.

''Black Blade Two, I have a visual on the aircraft.'' Asuna called, as she watched the orange streak against the night sky in the distance. She wasn't sure exactly how far away it was, but it certainly wasn't a good sign that she could already see the fire, but not the plane...

''You already have a visual on it? You're still almost twenty miles out!'' The ground controller called in surprise.

''It's hard not to see the trail, Goldeneye.'' Asuna responded, squinting slightly at the night sky as she continued to close the distance towards the fighters that were attempting to tail it. ''I'm approaching weapons range, but...''

''The fighters are far too close to the airliner to use missiles on, and those Firestreaks will just target the airliner given the fire.'' Alice summarised from the ground, no doubt looking over the radar set in the tower.

''Asuna, I can assist the airliner when I get there, see if you can get the fighters attention first?'' Koharu suggested. ''I'm not too far out, maybe two minutes at most.''

''I understand. Black Blade Two, I'll draw the fighters away.'' Asuna fiddled with the radio set in Wind Fleuret's cockpit, adjusting the frequency to the international standard frequency, in order to raise the pair of fighters behind Flight 668. ''Belkan aircraft, this is Black Blade Two of the Osean 23rd Fighter Squadron. Turn back towards Belkan airspace, or you will be fired upon. The aircraft you are engaging is a civilian aircraft, and continued attacks will be treated as a violation of the Open Skies agreement. Am I clear?'' She changed her voice to a far more authoritative tone, one befitting of someone ordering others to their whim.

''Verpiss dich, Ozean schwein!'' Came the reply, shouted down his radio. Asuna didn't speak any German, but she could tell from infliction that what was said was far from a polite acknowledgement of her instructions.

''Umm, what did they just say?'' Koharu asked, a clear sense of trepidation in her voice.

Alice's voice didn't exactly reassure them both when she answered. '' ''Go to hell!''... basically.''

''Wasn't quite that polite, was it?'' She asked, already aware of the answer.

''You could say that, yes.'' Alice answered, her voice more steely. ''I would assume they do not plan to leave without a downed airliner, at the very least.''

''Black Blade flight, instructions from Air Defence Command - the fighters are priority targets. Engage and destroy them at all costs.''

''Goldeneye, shouldn't priority be on the airliner! The people on there are depending on us!'' Koharu protested, clearly incensed by the suggestion that a pair of fighters were more important than the hundreds of people aboard the plane. On one hand, Asuna agreed with her wholeheartedly; they were absolutely more important than a brief airspace violation. On the other though, there was no chance they'd turn back without some application of force, and if focusing on the pair of MIGs was the required level of force to allow Flight 668 to land safely, then she was understanding of that fact.

''Koharu, those fighters need to be dealt with first, or at least taken out of the picture, else they won't be able to land safely.'' Alice pointed out, summarising her point much more succinctly than she had.

''Black Blade Two, instructions are understood. MIGs are to be dealt with first and foremost. Black Blade Three, keep the airliner safe when you get here, I'll drag the MIGs back towards the missile batteries at the south of the Lakes.''

''Understood, Black Blade Three.''

During Operatic Society, she'd managed to get enough credits to upgrade from the absolutely hopeless Firestreak missiles that her Lightning had initially had equipped, upgrading to a new weapon - the Red Top. On paper, its performance did look superior, with an increase in manueverability, range and targeting parameters. Unfortunately, the Red Top still shared many features with the Firestreak, despite its improvements, namely that it was next to useless in cloud cover - something she'd found rather amusing, considering the weapons were designed in Britain, known for its inclement weather - and that it had an unfortunate tendency to decide that whatever was straight ahead of it was an ideal target... even if there was nothing ahead of it.

On one trial run, she'd even managed to lock the missile onto the sun, rather than the dummy target. Needless to say, her faith in the missiles was not highly measured...

Asuna readied her twin cannons, knowing that any attack near the airliner would have to be unguided weapons, lest they gain a lock on the wrong target... and given the propensity of her new Red Tops to target the sun, rather than any specific targets, the last thing she wanted to do was to give them an enormous heat source directly ahead of them...

Closing the distance, she doubted she could take both MIGs out in a single pass, but she could at least force them to chase her, and pull them away from the stricken airliner. Three miles to the target however, the airliner began to enter a steep bank to its left, and to her amazement, one of the MIGs overshot the jet as it failed to slow down in time. Quickly, she readied up the Red Top to launch, and fired on the stray interceptor. Beside her, the missile detached from its chin pylon and blasted into the night sky ahead of her, the missile covering the distance to the MIG in less time than it had taken her to even blink, whilst the direct hit from the Red Top had filled the sky up with a flash of light, and burning shrapnel, in place of what had once been a MIG-21...

''Uhh, Black Blade Two, I have a kill. One MIG downed.'' Even she seemed slightly stunned as to just how quick the engagement had been; less than a second from the button press, to the metal confetti in front of her...

She snapped back to reality, and spotted the second MIG, who was now very aware of her presence - thanks to the explosion in the night sky that had once been his wingman - and beginning to turn back to get onto her tail. She wasn't going to let that happen, that was certain! With almost no hesitation, Asuna pulled back on her control column, and Wind Fleuret snapped into a tight 5G turn to the left to intercept the solo MIG.

On her current path, she knew that she'd pass just in front of the MIG's nose, a really bad place to find herself, given the MIG-21 had a cannon, or at least the ones she'd seen so far had all had cannons. A discussion with Kirito had revealed that some of the Belkan MIGs did indeed lack any form of cannon, but it was difficult to identify those during a dogfight in broad daylight, let alone against the night sky! She wasn't willing to assume it wasn't cannon armed, as Argo had told her of an old saying: ''if you assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.'', a clear warning about assuming things.

As she closed, she pulled Wind Fleuret back to wings level, unloading the forces on the wings and giving the MIG pilot a slightly smaller target as she passed, as only the side profile of the aircraft was visible instead of the full silhouette. She just had to hope she'd survive the initial pass, and get on the MIGs tail in the second pass of the scissors, in order to score a gun kill; the remaining Red Top being a rather ineffective weapon in a dogfight.

As she passed, the MIG didn't fire on her, and to her surprise, didn't continue to turn towards her, but rather head back towards Belkan airspace. That had caught her off guard, and she briefly paused, before calling back. ''Goldeneye, the second MIG is retreating.''

''Understood. Orders are still to destroy it.'' Asuna paused again, this time thinking about the order she was given. The MIG was fleeing, and no longer a threat... was it fair to shoot it down? It was no better than letting someone run away, and shooting them dead whilst they had their back turned! Granted, it wasn't quite that brutal, as in this case the MIG could still turn back and shoot her, but it still felt unpleasant to her...

Despite this, she pulled Wind Fleuret onto the tail of the fleeing MIG, and opened up the throttles to keep up. After a few seconds, the MIG pilot must have decided he wanted to be rid of her, snapping the MIG into a diving right turn to throw her off. No chance of that, she thought to herself, her Lightning easily keeping up with the fighter in the turn towards the ground. Even if she could easily keep up the turn, she suffered from one problem, namely that she couldn't get the nose into a firing position. When using her guns, Kirito had taught her how to use her gunsight properly to lead the twin ADENs in her nose, and make the best of the high velocity cannon. Despite her instincts to just hold down the trigger, she had to preserve her ammo; she only carried 120 rounds between the pair of guns, and with weapons that had a rate of fire of 1200 rounds per minute, she'd have only three seconds of fire...

Before she could reach a firing solution though, a warning alarm came on in her cockpit; an alarm that caused immense dread in any pilot... the terrain warning alarm. Instinctively, she unloaded the wings and pulled back hard to raise the nose before herself and Wind Fleuret became one with the earth. The MIG pilot, on the other hand, had not been so lucky and had seemingly made no effort to pull up before his plane demonstrated why water was just as dangerous to plow into at high speed, as a geyser of water rose from where it'd crashed just behind her, shaking the Lightning slightly. Asuna looked back over her wing, and realised just how close to the water she was... she was now leaving a wake on the surface as flew across it at Mach 1.2!

Pulling back on the throttles, she felt something bothering her - No.2 was sluggish to respond, and seemed to be losing more power than it should. It wasn't a critical failure... yet, but it was certainly enough of a handicap that she could've done without. Adding into that, she reckoned she now had a fuel leak - likely some shrapnel from the crashed MIG, but it was enough to turn a handicap into a problem. ''Two, I've got something wrong on engine two, and I've got a fuel leak.''

''Asuna, head back to base. Koharu, if you need help, Alice is ready to scramble at your call.'' Goldeneye told her, and she acknowledged. Knowing that her plane was damaged, she handled it as delicately as she could, remembering her first flight, and the... erm, fiery end that Wind Fleuret I had met.

''Understood. I should be able to handle it.'' Koharu responded.

''Koharu, good luck.'' She looked back to the blazing fireball that had been an Ilyushin, and she really hoped that all of this wasn't in vain...

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Arriving at the airliner, Koharu glanced over the plane. In the dark night sky, it would usually have been hard to tell anything that wasn't the aircraft's silhouette or that wasn't lit by the external lights, but with the raging inferno towards the back, the aircraft was well lit up. The aircraft's unusual quad tail mounted engines had certainly seen better days, as the fire poured out of the rear of engine number 2, and around the nacelle of engine number 1 as well. Beneath the aircraft, a hole had opened up, possibly where the missile had scored a hit or where the explosive decompression had blasted through a weaker area in the plane.

''Black Blade Three, Ustio 668. Damage is very bad. Engines 1 and 2 are on fire, there's a hole in the rear of the plane, and I think there's fire in the cabin.''

''Oh god.'' Came a slightly distressed call from the crew of Flight 668, as they took note of what she had told them, before the radio operator settled himself. ''Understood Three. We are, err... we need directions to the nearest runway.''

''Black Blade Three, Goldeneye. Can we land it at Rechlin?''

''The runway should be long enough for an Il-62, Koharu.'' Alice answered, with barely a moment's hesitation.

''Okay then, 668, are you still there?''

''We are still here, only barely though. Our controls are... well, we only barely have any. We have roll, and very limited pitch control. We do not have yaw, and our engines are struggling...''

''They really are in a bad way...'' The blonde girl muttered to herself, only barely audible above the static. ''668, have you tried to fight the fire?''

''Engines one and two fire suppression is active, but it does not seem to be working.''

''Koharu, are the engines...'' Even before she'd finished the question, Koharu could tell her the answer.

''Heavily. I can only barely see the engines in the fire, Alice...''

''Do we have a vector to a runway?'' She heard someone ask in the cockpit.

''668, can you turn to heading 270, for a straight in approach?'' Alice asked, an uncertainty in her voice at the new task of air traffic control.

''We're trying!'' Someone yelled, before a silence fell over the radio. Only eight minutes had passed since they'd rendezvoused with the stricken Il-62, but for Koharu, it felt so much longer. She knew what exhaustion had felt like flying, reminding herself of her training session that had ended in being lifted from her cockpit, unable to even so much as stand after that.

This though, was far worse than just physical exhaustion. The mental exhaustion from juggling three tasks at once was taking its toll; she had to keep her eye on the Ilyushin, whilst watching her own aircraft too, and acting as a radio relay for the ground control at Rechlin, whilst Asuna continued to keep the Belkan fighters away from herself and Flight 668. If the exhaustion was that bad for her, she couldn't imagine just how stressed the crew of the Ilyushin were, fighting to keep the plane aloft, battling ever mounting flames and failures by the second... ''Rechlin, how far to the runway?''

The voice of Goldeneye replaced Alice as the ground control. ''We have you at thirty miles south-east of the airfield, over Lake Elizabeth. Descending through 8000 feet.'' Koharu sighed at the news, knowing they were still at least five minutes from the ground. The fire that had been eating away at the engines was now visible through the windows of the airliner, slowly, but surely stalking its way forward through the cabin. It was a fate she wouldn't have wished on anyone, as smoke would've filled the cabin, incapacitating passengers and crew alike, and hopefully before the fire took hold of them...

In a moment where she could spare a thought to anything that wasn't the situation unfolding, she wondered whether her father would've done anything different in the situation. Maybe he could've figured out something that she'd missed, or maybe he'd have had some insight into what was unfolding. She spared a glance at the Il-62, and winced at what she was seeing - the lights in the aircraft had all but gone out, replaced by flickering light from the raging inferno inside, and even now, the gloss white airliner's rear section was scorched black, almost invisible against the night sky, with the exception of the roof between the four engines, which was glowing red hot, as the air around it began to distort...

She felt a cold chill through her entire core, and almost shouted into the radio, ''Ustio 668, the fire's almost melting the plane!''

''Ustio 668, our situation is-'' The crew were cut off, as their breathing got increasingly heavier, no doubt fighting the smoke, alongside battling with the plane's controls. ''Three and four, failing! Electrics are-'' The crew rasped, their voices cut off by the violent crackle of static. ''Oh christ, we're dying!'' Koharu couldn't say who said it, but she didn't need to know who'd said it to tell the muted fear in their voice. Their tone wasn't one of panic, but acceptance, as they realised that the situation was too dire to ever have a positive outcome. Seconds later, she watched as the fire took hold of the rear fuselage, the metal skin of the plane having disappeared, all but melted by the inferno...

She began to separate slightly from the Il-62, already knowing what was about to happen. ''Goldeneye, Ustio 668 is going down, the fire's gone through the rear fuselage...'' She steeled herself, feeling a couple of tears welling in her eyes as she watched the plane descended into the thin layer of clouds below them.

After only eight minutes and forty-three seconds, Flight 668 disappeared from her field of view, into the wisps below her. ''Ustio 668 is off radar, Blade Three. Do you have eyes on?''

''Negative, they're in the clo-'' She had only barely managed to get those words out before a bright orange flash lit up a cloud a few hundred feet from her, followed by an explosion that she could almost feel in her bones. ''Flight 668 has crashed... they-they just exploded...'' She stammered, trying to process what she'd just witnessed. Almost instinctively, she felt her grip tighten on her control column, as she fought to keep breathing steadily, and to regain her senses, against the ringing in her ears.

''Search and rescue assets are being scrambled as we speak. Black Blades, you are cleared to return to base...''

''Un-understood.''

/-/

The next morning came around and despite the sleepless night, Asuna had decided she would go to search the crash site to help with the hunt for survivors.

If Asuna was tired from the small number of hours she'd slept, then she was positive that Koharu hadn't slept at all, and it showed. She'd been only barely there since she'd gotten out of her bunk, and almost stumbled to the jeep... "Do you think anyone survived?" Koharu asked rather meekly, as if she was terrified of being snapped at.

Far from being snapped at, an awkward silence hung over the four members of Black Blade as they each considered their responses. She'd witnessed the chaos beginning to unfold on Flight 668 before the dogfight and minor battle damage forced her back to Rechlin, and as morbid as it sounded, she hoped the people onboard hadn't survived; she hoped that they'd passed out from smoke inhalation some time before the final moments of the airliner and weren't conscious to experience the hell that Koharu had described to her. No one deserved to experience that, in her eyes.

"Prolly not, Ko-chan." Argo answered, before muttering something to herself that sounded like "or I hope the poor bastards din't.". She couldn't help but agree there, especially as the wreckage field came into view from the jeep.

The sand around the lake shore and some of the grass was scorched black, littered with craters where some parts of the aircraft had hit with considerable force, and scattered the earth in the resultant explosion. Besides the scorched earth and already present smell of smouldering jet fuel, alongside the small fires still burning, the most obvious thing that all of them noticed was just how completely the Ilyushin had been destroyed; it was hard to claim it was destroyed really, "annihilated" probably fit better, if she was honest.

The only hint that a plane had crashed rather than, say, a meteorite, was the remains of the vertical and horizontal stabilisers poking out of the shallow waters of Lake Elizabeth. The tail was scorched, the once red and white tail now a jet black mass of twisted metal, only passable for a tailplane at a glance. Any more than a glance, and she was concerned it would fall apart...

"What'cha thinkin', Kii-bou?"

"There's no chance that was intact when it came down. The tail would be as destroyed as the rest of the plane if it did. Koharu said she saw it explode, right?"

"Yeah? Ya think it wasn't an explosion, but the plane just gave up and snapped?"

"Explains the wide field, and she did say that the plane was hanging on by a thread."

Leaving the pair to continue debating the cause of the carnage, Asuna walked over to Koharu, who was sat beside an object on an otherwise unscathed patch of grass. As she got closer, she could see what was in the girl's hand: a singed and slightly torn teddy bear, with a few marks on its body.

"Th-this can't go unanswered, right? Someone has to be..."

"Punished fer this, right? Sad ta say, but these type 'a things don't usually end wit' the baddie rottin' in a cell somewhere. Usually just a "we're extremely sorry, now here's some cash, get lost." and it fades away eventually."

"Then why are we bothering?" She asked, not even looking up from the teddy bear. Another awkward silence fell across the group, as everyone tried to think of a rebuttal to that thought, yet none of them could easily explain why.

''Argo, can you take Koharu back to Rechlin?''

''I'm fine!'' For the first time, she heard the black haired girl raise her voice, which felt really out of character for the mild-mannered girl.

''No, you aren't, you're exhausted.'' Kirito snapped back. ''I get that you blame yourself for all of this, but it's not our job to seek justice. We are fighter pilots, not vigilantes! All that going off and shooting down the next Belkan fighter that strays even slightly over the border is going to achieve is starting a war even sooner than it already will!''

Koharu looked as if she wanted to say something, but either thought about it slightly more, or thought better of it. ''Okay.'' She walked away, and back toward the jeep, still keeping a sullen look. Argo followed quickly behind her. ''I'll mek sure she gets a bit 'a rest.''

/-/

After a few hours of searching amongst the wreckage, Asuna came to a realisation - never mind finding survivors, she doubted that much actually remained of the plane, the largest piece they found being around the size of a small dinner table, whilst various bits of unidentified and possibly unidentifiable wreckage were bagged.

By lunchtime, the heavy removal teams had arrived, and the task of removing the wreckage of the tail section from the water began. It was a slow process, as the crane's crew did their best to make sure the wrecked structure didn't just break apart as it was lifted out from the water. She'd seen news reports of plane crashes when she was younger, and even footage of airliners that had been shot down, but they had always been destroyed to the same degree as the rest of Flight 668.

It was a horrific experience, to see something so massive, reduced to so little, and those reports could never do that level of horror justice; they could show what it was like, and tell you, but they couldn't replicate the heat that still lingered in the winter cold, or the ever present smell of jet fuel. Seeing it with your own eyes though... it was a horror that was too real. Too close to reality. Even Kayaba's speech about their new reality hadn't caused such a visceral reaction in them - that was a more existential horror, she reckoned, whilst this... this was something that real people had seen at some point, and that they'd have to live with.

A thought occurred to her. ''Was it like this in the beta?'' She asked, moving some piece of mangled bar out of the way.

''Like what?'' He replied, not looking up from the debris he was scouring through. The way he said it though, told her that either he was being deliberately dense, not wanting to really face what had happened, or that he really was that dense. The former was proven true only a few seconds later when he spoke again. ''I don't remember anything like this.'' Kirito admitted, as he moved a fragment of twisted metal into the area that was being used to clear up the wreckage for further investigation. ''Usually, we were just flying reconnaissance missions, or a few missions to strafe tanks. Back then, the first major mission was on New Year's Day, so we're already considerably ahead...''

''Wait, what happened - err, happens - on New Year's Day!?'' She asked, now slightly concerned for what could be about to happen...

''We had to help defend the carrier group in Oured Bay.'' Kirito explained, and she tried to picture where he was talking about. She remembered that Oured was the capital, but she could've sworn the map in the library showed Oured Bay heading inland... ''Nothing too out of the ordinary for an Ace Combat game, just destroy the bombers approaching the fleet.''

''So, no burning airliners then?''

''Don't actually think we ever saw an airliner in the beta...'' Kirito admitted, before adding to that point. ''Though, there were a few transports that had to be shot down, but they were always military. Can't say I enjoyed those missions... it's not like transport planes can really fight back.'' The one that was now lying in the sand, shattered into an unimaginable number of pieces, was a pretty good indicator of the dogfighting prowess of transport aircraft, especially when facing high speed fighters like theirs, she thought to herself.

''Hey! You two! Over here, we need some help moving some stuff.'' A rescue NPC called over to them, and they headed over.

Two yellow bags, markings obscured a little by the soot and smoke in the air were on the ground, were waiting for them. From the look on Kirito's face, he recognised twhat could be in them. The most sobering sight that they'd see was right in front of them: what remained of the 185 people onboard the jet... two yellow body bags.

Not two hundred, but two 2-metre by 1-metre bags were all that remained of the occupants. She was actually glad that Kirito had ordered Koharu back to Rechlin, because that sight had took them all a while to get over; it was the single most bitter pill they'd had to swallow so far, a true reminder of their failure. Even Kirito, admittedly not the most talkative of people on a good day, had gone almost completely silent, save for his hitched breathing, with his eyes briefly as wide as they could reasonably be, before he turned and walked away from the site, with herself following soon behind for the short walk back to the vehicle.

''Kirito?'' She asked as they got into the jeep, and Kirito clutched onto the steering wheel with a grip reserved for ensuring someone didn't fall into a bottomless abyss. If she listened carefully, she was sure he was actually splintering the wooden wheel, his hands white as they gripped it tightly.

''What they said earlier... I don't know.'' He answered, though not coherently.

''I don't understand? You don't know what?''

''Why we bother. This isn't going to be the end of this, and-'' She cut him off before he could get into whatever speech he was about to make.

''I know why I'm bothering - so as no one forgets what happened here.'' She countered, before continuing. ''Maybe Argo was right, and no one gets bought to justice for this, but we're living proof of what happened to those people. We saw off those fighters, and tried our best to get them to safety.'' She finished her speech and after a few seconds of contemplation, a small smile replaced the frown on Kirito's face before he started laughing quietly to himself. ''What's so funny!''

''Just thinking, why am I the flight leader!'' He admitted, and in her frustration, she nudged him with her elbow.

''Ass.'' She pouted, before turning away at the implied praise. ''Besides, you aren't a bad leader... just need a bit of practice.''

That turned the tables, she noticed, as it was his turn to fold under the praise...

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Back at Rechlin, Koharu had found a quiet spot on the airbase to sit and think about everything. One of the few creature comforts that had survived the transformation of ACES, from a flight simulator to a war simulator, was strangely a music player, which had seemingly been programmed with a very eclectic selection of music, ranging from the music of idols, all the way through to heavy metal. Whenever she'd been in a bad mood, she'd found some solace in music, allowing her to place herself in all sorts of fantastical stories, or even place herself in other people's lives whilst they sang. It had even inspired her to take up playing the piano, and she'd even started writing her own music...

Then she'd found her way into ACES; a way to understand her father more, and why he was always away. She'd thought that, by learning to fly in ACES, she'd understand her father's affinity for the air, and have a chance to spend more time with him. She'd have almost laughed at just how badly that plan had actually gone, especially given that she was now the absent one in their relationship, if only it hadn't left such an open scar in her emotional state.

Perhaps that had been why that last mission had burrowed into her conscience, and refused to leave - that she pictured her father in a similar situation, fighting impossible odds. She pictured the crew fighting those odds, and even when all hope was lost, they'd fought to control where the plane came down and prevent any casualties on the ground. They'd only stopped fighting the odds when the plane broke apart, and it became clear that absolutely nothing they did would change the outcome then.

She hadn't noticed, she was so caught up in the music, but Argo had managed to find her, and sat next to her. Once the song had finished, and she'd seen her, Without any prompting, and with a much more serious tone than usual, Argo began to speak. ''Back in t'beta, there was this one mission; the Belkans had nuclear bombers positioned near the border, an' we need shots of 'em to prove what was goin' on. E'rryone knew that tryin' ta get close enough to spot 'em was a death sentence. I know it weren't back then, not really, but been shot down 'ent much fun even when yer life ent on th' line. Dow' ask me why, but I said I could do it, an' I did actually get the pictures we all needed fer proof... but my plane was done fer. I had ta eject, or I'd'a bin blown ter bits. The pictures ne'er made it back, an' we had ta shoot them down 'fore they vaporized e'rrythin'.'' She explained, and Koharu started to understand the point she was making; that, even though she'd failed to get Flight 668 back, she'd also found herself in an unwinnable situation; get the plane to the ground, ASAP, or get it to the ground safely. If she'd gone with the first option, and insisted the pilots attempted to make a forced landing, there was absolutely no guarantee it wouldn't have been equally catastrophic but in a different way, and with no emergency services, the outlook for any survivors would've been bleak. Even the second option, the one she actually had gone for, she knew as soon as she saw it that it was a race against time... and time is one thing that no one can outrun. Whilst she'd thought it through, she hadn't realised that there had been a really awkward pause for over a minute, whilst she did. Argo spoke up to break that silence though. ''Ya wanna get a drink?''

''I'm not sure a drunk pilot is a good idea, Argo...'' For the first time today, she felt a small smile on her face at the quip.

''Who said I was gettin' ya tipsy?'' Argo smirked in response, and the pair walked off towards the bar. '' 'Sides, yer not wrong... don't think I wanna discover what drunk piloting 'round here's like!''

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Escalation of Commitment, Pt.1

The 1st of January 1969 had began much the same way as any other day in the world of Strangereal. It was a cold, but otherwise pleasant morning, a crisp coolness in the air that shook away the cobwebs from the celebrations that had been the night before, with surprisingly little frost at Rechlin, though the snow from the evening prior still coated the fields around the base, as members of the 23rd Fighter Squadron's Twilight Flight checked over their aircraft, before their possible mission.

She thought back to the briefing that they'd undertaken before everyone either went to bed, or went off to celebrate the New Year...

''As you are all aware, Belkan radar trucks have been jamming our primary radar, and we've been using airborne radar to try to circumvent that for almost a week now. Needless to say, this is far from a permanent solution, and we've been given authorisation for a mission to destroy the radar trucks across the border. Targets have the codename Headache...'' Diavel explained, before pulling down a chart with the operation name on it... ''This mission will be... Operation Aspirin.''

Koharu hadn't thought it was possible for people to act in complete synchronization before that meeting, but she did after it - having watched an entire room of people place their heads in their hands and groan, all in complete unison, did tend to change your opinion on things like that...

''We'll be performing a surgical strike with only a small number of aircraft at dawn, to lessen the chances of them being aware of us.'' A map was placed down of the targets, and the timeline for it, and suddenly, she wondered if the radar trucks weren't the only Headache around. What was the saying about plans, and enemies again?...

''YAWWNN-Morning!'' Yuuki said, in her familiar cheerful tone. The twins had come up to her whilst she was off in her own little world, and no doubt they were as tired as she was. As it turned out, a base full of pilots, all of whom had a reason to celebrate - and quite a lot of alcohol - were more than slightly rowdy. She'd felt some sympathy for Asuna there, especially as she'd looked as if she was going to throw the nearest object to her, at the next person who disturbed her efforts to sleep...

''Yuuki... you did actually sleep, right?'' Ran asked, her voice conveying concern, and giving off the impression that she was older than she actually was. If not older, then certainly more responsible, she'd reminded herself.

''Of course I did! It's just...'' Yuuki defended.

''It is really early...'' Koharu admitted, fighting a yawn herself as she checked over her Hunter. ''And everyone was really loud last night...'' Koharu trailed off as she continued to check over the Hunter. Lisbeth had made some modifications for her over the Christmas period; not least to the weapons she could now carry. The two outer rails had been refitted to allow carriage of air-to-air missiles, namely Firestreak or Sidewinders. She knew from Asuna that the Firestreaks were... not exactly reliable, often deciding that the sun made for a more opportune target than the dummy aircraft in front of them, so she'd settled for carrying Sidewinders instead, alongside four 1000lb bombs.

The other major change to her Hunter was the colour scheme, the usual two tone grey and green camouflage replaced by a deep, all over maroon colour, one that could almost pass for champagne red in the right lights. The maroon was broken up by the 23rd's insignia on the nose, alongside the usual Osean markings and a newly added Black Blade insignia under her cockpit, with her information and her normal position as Black Blade Three. This morning though, she wasn't flying as Black Blade Three, but rather taking Siune's position as Twilight Four, whilst the older girl's Lansen was being repaired by Lisbeth.

Had it not been for the distinct lack of pilots around Rechlin, she wondered if she could be forgiven for forgetting what day it was - New Year's Day, the 1st of January 1969 for them. She couldn't help but find that a little unsettling, that she was about to fly a strike mission some 36 years before she was born, in a completely different world; one that felt like Earth at a first glance, until she looked at it more closely. During her few days off following the Kestrel incident, she'd taken the time to familiarise herself with the world she now found herself living in, and Strangereal certainly felt as if the name was justified. The planet Earth, but with the continents shifted, and different countries replacing the ones she knew... and yet, despite the different nations, war was still as prevalent. The World Wars had still happened, even though the circumstances had been very different on Strangereal, and...

''Oh, so you had a little tipple last night?'' Ran asked, an eyebrow raised in amusement, as she realised she was staring off into space again.

''Oh, no, just... it's a little odd, right?'' The sisters looked at each other with confused looks, before she continued. ''We're here, nearly four decades before we'll be born, and well...''

''When you put it like that, yeah, it's funny to think! We could be telling our grandkids about this... wait, wouldn't our grandkids be us though?'' Yuuki asked, looking up at the sky as if to try and draw the family tree in the air around her.

''No, but our grandkids would be the same age as us.'' Ran answered, before realising what she'd said. ''Maybe.'' She added, a slightly mournful look in her eyes, a look at complete odds with the smile on her face... ''Still, we should be getting ready. You never know when we'll be told to take off!''

''See you up there!'' Yuuki chirped, as they rushed away. Koharu waved at the sisters as they headed back over to their Sabres, before getting into her Hunter. She knew that Ran was right, and especially with their mission, time could be of the essence...

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The Black Blades had been the first group to take off that morning, with Kirito, Argo and Asuna taking the mission to locate the radar trucks and destroy them, the Phantom's refitted SEAD gear being the most suited for the job of locating the target. Alice and Eugeo were to remain on the ground, and fly intercept any aircraft that attempted to use the lack of radar coverage to sneak in. Koharu would fly in with the second wave, the Hunter carrying a potent payload of 4000lbs worth of bombs, just to ensure the trucks were no longer broadcasting... or existent, for that matter.

Still though, she would rather it be the case that they were on patrol instead of sat waiting on the taxiway with fuel bowsers plugged into their Mirages. At very least, there'd be less of a fire hazard! It had to be said though, Alice thought, that the very small scale operations - minor attacks on trucks - To say she wanted the chaos of a full on war was far from the truth - she absolutely didn't. A full on war would mean death, destruction and despair on a scale she would never wish for, but she would've preferred the occasional notable mission, rather than just combat air patrols and escort missions that they were undertaking frequently.

"Black Blade Three, Black Blade Four, this is Goldeneye. You are cleared for takeoff and exit to orbit pattern four."

"Black Blade Three, departing on orbit pattern four." She declared to anyone listening, as she opened the throttles of her ATAR engine, the lightweight delta rapidly picking up momentum as soon as the brakes were removed.

"Black Blade Four is departing, exit pattern four." Eugeo announced, his Mirage almost keeping up with hers, as if the fighters were in a drag race down Runway 10...

"Goldeneye to Twilight, enter the runway and hold position."

"Twilight Leader, moving to position." Ran called out, her flight of fighter-bombers moving onto the runway no doubt, whilst the two Mirages climbed to 5000 feet, beginning an orbit of Rechlin.

"Goldeneye, Twilight. We, uhh, we have a situation here. You are cleared for takeoff, but belay mission orders." The tower control called out, taking the swept wing fighters on the ground by surprise. No surprise, as even she wasn't sure what was going on... What type of situation would require delaying the execution of a mission?

"Black Blade Lead to Goldeneye, we're engaged with bandits, 50 kilometres north of Rechlin!" That was concerning to her, as that suggested that they'd been expecting the attack to come, and had their own fighters on standby...

"Goldeneye reads you, confirm how many?"

"We don't know! At least ten, probably more!" That caught Alice's attention, and no doubt everyone else's, listening in. Where in the fresh hell had ten aircraft come from!? There was no doubt in Alice's mind that they were not interceptors; they were an attack force that had stumbled on the pair of fighters...

"Black Blade, we're sending reinforcements your way. Blades Three and Four are five minutes out, Twilight are scrambling now." The tower called, before changing to the frequency of the Mirages. "Black Blade Three, Black Blade Four, new vector is zero five zero, at fifty kilometers, bandits are at angels two. Cleared weapons hot."

"Black Blade Four, Lead, we're on our way!" The two Mirages lit up the morning sky, and snow glistened below as their afterburners kicked in...

"Alice, if there's that many of them..." The tone in her wingman's voice could speak a thousand words - chief amongst them being "charging in will just get you killed."

"I know. We only have two radar guided missiles between us though, so we will have to engage them at visual range..."

In full afterburner, they'd need to be careful of their fuel range too - they still had drop tanks slung under their wings for an extended loiter, but this wasn't that at all. This was no doubt going to devolve into a chaotic melee against the blinding winter sun, jets roaring across the sky as they hunt their foes.

Beneath her oxygen mask, Alice felt a small smile come across her face...

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With every ounce of force he could muster, Kirito pulled the Phantom through an 8 G turn, jinking every so often to throw off the aim of the MIG-17s chasing them...

From a tactical standpoint, there was only a single conclusion that could be drawn - they were screwed.

On the deck, where the Phantom had found itself, the MIG could significantly out turn the Phantom, and it was only down to the slag heap that Kirito had found himself using for a small degree of cover, that neither MIG had dialed their guns in on him. He muttered a small thanks for the low muzzle velocity of those cannons, as arcs of 23mm and 37mm fire tore through the air a small distance behind the Phantom. Still though, there was only so much turning in circles could do, unless your plan was to make your adversary so dizzy they lost control...

A screeching noise soon got his attention; the sound of a radar guided missile heading straight towards them...

"Kii-bou, missile!" Argo yelled from behind him.

"Where from though!" He grunted, craning his head around against the forces on their fighter. Where the hell was that radar missile being fired from?! The Belkans didn't have much capable of firing radar guided weaponry - a few MIG-23s, sure, but they were almost mythical amongst the community. Everyone knew they had them, but no one had ever seen one. Some even argued that the MIG-23 was the game's super fighter... After all, if the reports were true, then not only did it have radar stealth seemingly, but optical camouflage too.

Alternatively, and more plausibly, they weren't stealthy at all, they simply weren't there. As for anything else, unless the Belkans happened to have Su-15s as well, then the only options were the extremely old hat AA-1 Alkali missiles, beam riding weapons that had a maximum range of under four miles. A range that he could easily see what had fired it in...

"12 o' clock! Headin' straight fer us!" Argo pointed past his head to a small white trail ahead...

"What the!?" Well, that threw out almost every theory! In desperation, he threw the Phantom into an instinctive left turn, hoping the missile would sail past them...

A distinctive white trail streaked harmlessly past the Phantom, before an explosion filled his rear view mirror. The lead MIG had disappeared, almost vapourised by a head on impact with the missile, only small shards of torn metal dropping into the slag below.

"Argo, where did that come from!?"

"Only blips are beh-no wait, two coming head on!" He braced for yet another high-G head on missile dodge... before the radio sprung to life.

"Black Blade Lead, this is Black Blade Four! Break, you have a missile heading towards you!" called Eugeo, the glint of another missile being fired in the extreme distance...

Well, that answered the question of the first radar guided missile - Alice's. Their Mirages had been set up for escort duties this morning, so they'd both got an R530 onboard.

"Blade Four, thanks fer the heads up this time! Last 'un nearly took our heads off too!" Argo seemed even less happy at them than he was.

"Blade Three apologises... I think."

The Phantom continued in its climbing turn, putting some distance between them and the MIG before the missile reached them.

Behind them, the snow shone orange again as the missile slammed head on into the second MIG. With a closing speed of over Mach 3, it didn't take a genius to realise that the pilot had stood no chance of getting out - there hadn't been a plane left to get out of! Just a burning tangle of twisted metal falling the short distance to the earth.

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For Alice, this had been exactly what she'd signed up for; a swirling World War One style dogfight, as pilots fought not only their adversaries, but the laws of aerodynamics too... and yet, she didn't find a thrill here. She watched as explosions shattered the noise of jets - and the jets themselves - and she didn't feel like a gallant knight of the sky, but rather a rage close to overflowing...

How dare they do this!

After everyone the Belkans had hurt so far, the cowardly attack on Rechlin, not aimed to destroy their ability to wage war, but to reduce their pool of pilots, and on Flight 668, the scarred ground where the airliner had been obliterated still clear, even against the snow - attacks that had left hundreds dead and injured, now they dared to attempt a sneak attack again, whilst everyone was attempting to rest!

She had no doubts that they would be taught the error of their ways... the first problem was surviving until then. Almost as if to prove her point, a MIG-17 blasted past her nose, in pursuit of Eugeo.

Not for long, she thought, as she snapped Osmanthius into a tight turn to port, to get on the attacker's tail, the vortices off her wing swirling around the upper surface as she did. Multiple times the force of gravity pushed her further and further into the ejection seat as the Mirage pulled into a position behind the fighter. With a rehearsed motion, the cage over the trigger was flipped up, and just second of pressure was applied to the trigger.

With just that second, 38 rounds of 30mm fire tore away from Osmanthius, 7 of those being incendiary rounds known as tracers, lit up against the rising sun and glistening snow, before slamming into the MIG ahead.

The smaller jet rocked against the punishing hits, sections of wing and fuselage coming apart as shells and shrapnel lodged into them, before it's pilot chose the wisest course of action - ejecting.

"Black Blade Three, one MIG-17 down-HELL!" She called out, before her canopy filled up with the image of a MIG-19 that had torn past her with just a few metres to spare... a scene reminiscent of her close encounter with Koharu's Hunter.

"Alice! Come in!" She heard Eugeo shout down her radio, his voice almost drowned out by the static crackling it generated...

"I'm alright - that was rather close though." She craned her head round, looking for anything else that might be in a position to turn onto her - a pair of aircraft she wasn't particularly familiar with. The swept wing, twin engines and tail were evidently those of a MIG-19, but the forward section was completely different. The large gaping nose, the intake for the twin Tumansky turbojets was replaced by an actual nosecone, whilst two, significantly smaller, intakes were mounted just ahead of the wing roots.

Either way, they were making a swift dash for Rechlin, so her attempts to identify the type would have to come later!

"Two bandits making a break for Rechlin, unknown type! Alice, I'm in pursuit!" She called, pulling Osmanthius into a position for a tail chase.

Having noticed the golden glint of her Mirage, the unknowns opened up their throttles, their afterburners lighting up the skies behind them. They were surprisingly fast, she thought, almost as fast as the Sukhois they'd faced when they were on the deck.

Still, she was faster!

The Mirage was no slouch, even in the denser air at low altitudes, but whatever she was chasing was considerably more agile at such altitudes, even if she was faster. The unknowns weaved through almost every single round she fired, and her opinions on missiles were being reinforced as the damned things failed to lock onto either aircraft!

If this carried on, she would have to do the unthinkable - attempt to ram them, at nearly 700 knots... It'd be instantly fatal, of that she had no doubts - ejecting from an aircraft at only 200 feet had serious risks when you could stabilise it, let alone when you'd lost a wing potentially, and were nearly upside down!

But she could not let them get through to deliver their deadly payloads...

"Black Blade Three, Twilight Three. Break away, I've got a plan!"

As uneasy as she was, she had had it drummed into her that flying, especially in combat, was a team sport. You had to rely on your allies, else you would soon find yourself in a situation you stood no chance of extricating yourself from. If Twilight Three had a plan, then she had to place her trust in the girl... ''Understood, Twilight Three, breaking now.''

''Twilight Three, firing!''

In front, she noticed the metallic shimmer of the other pilot's Sabre Dog, before it vanished amongst a cloud of white smoke. Oh, now that was ingenious! Optimistic, admittedly, but ingenious! The Sabre Dog that Twilight Three flew was almost unique amongst the aircraft of the 23rd (after all, no one flew an F-89 to her knowledge...) in that, not only did it mount a considerable punch in the form of four 20mm cannons, but it retained a tray of twenty-four 2.75 inch Mighty Mouse folding fin rockets, designed to provide far more punch in an anti-bomber role. Rockets that Twilight Three had just launched against the pair of unsuspecting unknowns...

In front of her, explosions and their shock waves ripped through the air; the Mighty Mouse rockets blasting shrapnel through everything in their path, including both unknowns. The first unknown had simply disappeared, no doubt having been directly hit by one of the rockets intended to take down far larger bombers, whilst the second, crippled by the barrage, banked sharply to the left, before it too disappeared amidst a fireball.

''Twilight Three, both are down.'' She said, watching as the white puffs of smoke started to clear away. Despite the successful engagement, she could absolutely understand why unguided rocket volleys had been considered a dead end in aviation technology - Twilight Three had released twenty-four rockets, and destroyed only two aircraft for that barrage. She had even read of pilots who had fired off 208 of the rockets, and failed to hit even a single target...

They had however, hit a car, a truck, a children's playground and a forest, starting a number of wildfires with their volley, in that situation. A darkly humorous thought occurred to Alice, which was that she should be thankful that all that surrounded Rechlin was a lake (currently frozen over) and a vast swathe of snowy fields. Nothing for the rockets to land on, in other words...

Still, despite the destruction of the two unknowns, this was far from over...

/-/

Even whilst they were on the ground, Twilight Flight had worked out a plan amongst themselves - Merida and Koharu, the two members of the flight with the most firepower at their disposal and the superior weapons systems onboard, would join the furball, alongside Black Blade, whilst Ran and Yuuki, still reliant on their .50 calibres and a pair of Sidewinders each, would form a defensive circle around the base.

With any luck, the guys up front would be able to keep any aircraft from actually closing the distance to Rechlin, but if you were basing an entire strategy off a lucky outcome... then chances were, it wasn't going to end well! Still, despite that, the group up front were holding back the fighters well enough that only a single pair of unlucky Su-7s had actually broken through - and they'd soon been dealt with, the leader receiving a Sidewinder to the rear fuselage, whilst the second had chosen to run away; the most intelligent thing a Su-7 pilot could do against the older Sabre, as the Fitter was faster by far.

Unfortunately for them, they'd run away... back into Asuna's Lightning, and received a Red Top to the tailpipe for their mistake. There was something about that missile that made Ran think the British really had decided that whatever got hit by one of these things really wasn't going to escape; not when almost 70 kilograms of shrapnel had just been blasted into your aircraft...

''All aircraft, this is Goldeneye, no new bogeys on radar... hold on, we're seeing something.'' The ground control announced, and cut off briefly as they checked whatever was happening. A silence held over the members of the 23rd, as an explosion tore open a very unlucky aircraft in the distance - a MIG-17, by the looks of it. Eventually though, the radio crackled back to life."Goldeneye to all aircraft - count six additional friendlies entering the combat area from the south. Callsigns are Solitaire, Archer and Paladin. ETA is one minute, approximately 70 miles out. Repeat, aircraft approaching from the south are friendly."

"Roger that, Goldeneye! Looks like the Belkans have thinned down, only two aircraft left!''

"Solitaire Flight, bandits are mixed in with allied fighters. Watch your shots up there." A pilot instructed, no doubt the leader of Solitaire Flight.

"No problemo, bossman." Another pilot radioed back.

"Paladin, I have a radar lock. Request clearance to fire." One pilot called out, and had Ran had the time to look confused, she would've. They were still at least 60 miles away... just what the hell was Paladin flying to get a radar lock at that kind of range!

"Goldeneye to Paladin, you are weapons free. Watch for friendlies."

"Understood. Fox Three, volley two."

From across the furball, the last two Su-7s disappeared, engulfed in a fireball and vapourised by the impact from the radar guided missiles fired by Paladin, leaving only the soot covered, razor sharp confetti that had once been a fighter-bomber falling into the snow below...

The radio crackled to life with a few whistles at the sight, and even ground control sounded shocked at what they were hearing. ''Goldeneye, Paladin... both targets down. All aircraft, skies are clear. Repeat, skies are clear. Black Blade, what is your fuel state?''

''Blade Two here, could do with refueling and rearming.'' Asuna answered first, exhaustion unsurprisingly present in her voice. She had been in the fight since before they were even off the ground, after all...

''Blade Lead, same story here.'' Argo said. ''We're nearly on fumes up here.''

''Understood, Black Blades. Return to base if need fuel or weapons, we'll have a CAP in place in ten minutes to relieve you guys.''

''Solitaire Lead to Goldeneye, we're still fully armed and fueled up here, we'll stay on station and keep you guys covered!'' In the distance, she was fairly sure she could identify some of the arriving reinforcements - an grey and purple A-7 Corsair II, something that looked like Crusader, but with a second vertical stabiliser underneath it, a very colourfully painted Skylancer (seriously, who painted their plane bright pink and white in a combat zone...) and a purple tailed F-4 Phantom taking the lead. Still, that didn't answer her question as to where the other two aircraft were, nor what they were flying; especially since Paladin had scored two kills from at least 60 miles, well outside the engagement range of everything they'd seen this far...

''Twilight Flight, check in.''

''Still fully armed sis, could do with some more fuel though.'' Yuuki answered.

''Opposite story here, Ran. Plenty of fuel, but all I've got left is my handgun.'' Merida joked.

''Same for me, fuel state is fine, but I've got about ten rounds left.'' Koharu said.

So weaponry was the deciding factor then. She checked her own fuel gauge, and reckoned she had another 20 minutes left before bingo fuel. Plenty to circle with, but if a fight broke out again? A rather small amount... ''Understood, Twilight Flight. Hold position until Black Blade are on the ground, then head into land.'' She instructed.

With any luck, this morning's battle had been a decisive victory for them, and the Belkans wouldn't be back around here for a while...

''Goldeneye to Black Blade Lead?'' Ground Control called.

''Argo here, go ahead Goldeneye.''

''Were you able to destroy the radar trucks?'' They asked, clearly slightly troubled if the tone of voice was anything to go by.

''They won't be bothering anyone ever again, why?'' Argo said calmly, but with an ever increasing sense of anxiety in her voice...

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something slowly moving, and so, Ran squinted into the distance. A black mass appeared to be inching its way over the horizon, just north of the base. Definitely not fighters, the objects were moving far too slowly. Helicopters? Maybe amongst them, but not primarily...

Which left only one possibility then - ground forces. An ungodly amount of them, all closing towards Rechlin...

Ground control finally answered, with a much more serious tone. ''We have a situation then.''

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Escalation of Commitment, pt.2

For Shino Asada, the 1st January 1969 had been the distant past; some 39 years before her birth and a time during a cold war that threatened to consume the entire world...

For Sinon however, it was just another day. Sure, it was New Year's Day, but other than that, it was just another day in Strangereal for her... at first. Her WF-105 Arrow had been loaded up for a routine patrol from her home base at Kelstedge, the large delta winged interceptor being given the task to patrol the southern Great Lakes, a patrol area that took her over the frozen Lake Jubilant at 25,000 feet and at 400 knots - far from the Arrow's maximum speed or altitude, but just enough to be a more economical use of the Arrow, an aircraft that really wasn't designed for loitering.

The WF-105 was a large, delta winged interceptor designed to climb fast, release every missile it could at an enemy bomber force - those missiles even including nuclear warheads, if needs must - before said bomber force could get anywhere near allied territory.

What it wasn't however... was a strike fighter. Which was a pity, because that was what she really needed right about now.

"That is a lot of tanks…" Someone stated in horror, at the amassed columns of armour and support vehicles advancing across the frozen lakes below her.

"That looks more like a swarm of locusts!" One pilot exclaimed, clearly horrified by the ever-increasing mass of armour and helicopters coming through the frozen forests.

"Most locusts aren't packing HEAT, boss." Someone said unhelpfully.

"Solitaire, Archer, Paladin; this is Goldeneye." Her radio crackled, alongside a beeping noise from her in-game HUD (sadly not her actual HUD, the WF-105 lacking such an amenity), indicating a mission update. "Any assistance you can provide against those ground units is much appreciated!"

"Solitaire understands, Goldeneye. We'll do what we can to thin them out till assistance arrives." The pilot of the Phantom in the flight agreed. "Zeliska, you bought rockets, right?"

"Bombs, and nowhere near enough to handle that many targets." The pilot known as Zeliska answered. The woman flew an A-7A Corsair II, a tactical strike aircraft designed to be more survivable, with a bigger bomb load and significantly greater range than the smaller A-4 Skyhawk, as well as at a reduced cost, compared to more sophisticated A-6 Intruder. All of these features made the A-7 a pretty good bomb truck, but a thoroughly subpar fighter – though it at least carried a pair of guns; the standard Naval fit of Mk12 20mm cannons – which was more than her Arrow carried.

Eight AIM-4 Falcons might have sounded like a strong punch to the uninitiated, but as she'd found out, the smaller missiles had some utterly appalling characteristics that made it very unsuitable for air combat that wasn't simply hunting bombers – the extremely limited seeker function on the IR guided variant, and both variants of the missile lacked a proximity fuse, meaning they required a direct hit, unlike the later AIM-7 and AIM-9 missiles that most aircraft carried.

"Solitaire, this is Goldeneye. Assistance will be on station in five minutes, callsigns Liberator and Samurai.''

"Much obliged Goldeneye, we'll hold them back till then.'' – "Cap, what's the play here? Our guns are gonna be next to useless on those tanks, and Zel's bombs aren't that powerful…''

"Archer, Paladin, are either of you loaded for bear?''

"Negative, purely air-to-air.'' She responded. Her AIM-4s had been used as air-to-ground weapons in a pinch during the Vietnam War, when the theory that the IR seekers could be used to track trucks moving in the dense foliage had been put to the test – it hadn't been a massive success. The missiles were far too small to be effective in anything more than a truck killer role, and the launch aircraft was inevitably too fast to gain a solid lock before overshooting the target.

"The same applies to me. I suppose my cannon may be effective, should it come down to it.'' Paladin replied.

"If I'm not mistaken, are we not over Lake Elizabeth?'' Another pilot asked, this time coming from the Crusader III nearby to Zeliska's A-7. The Crusader III, or F-9A as it was called in ACES Online, rather than its real-world designation of XF8U-3, was a similar looking aircraft to the Corsair II, both aircraft being derived from the F-8 Crusader, though its styling had certainly differed from its predecessor. A sharply swept forward intake on the chin replaced the Crusader's original oval intake in the same position, whilst the aircraft had gained a large ventral fin in place of the Crusader's ventral strakes, all made the F-9A look substantially different (and in her opinion, uglier) than its predecessor, though there was no denying that the new engine (a J75 rather than the Crusader's J57) and improved avionics gave the F-9A a greater edge in a fight than its forebear. Not only could it now see its opponent far sooner, but it could shoot them far sooner too, with a trio of AIM-7 Sparrows carried on fuselage pylons.

"Yeah, so?'' A female voice asked.

"The lake is frozen by this time of year, and those tanks are rolling right over it…'' The Crusader III pilot stated, as if guiding a child through a particularly difficult maths problem.

"The ice is already under pressure! We just need to make it give way!'' A male voice came from Solitaire Lead, though it didn't sound like the usual voice of the flight leader; perhaps it was their RIO, she wondered.

The voice of their leader spoke up again. "Zeliska, reckon you can drop those bombs on a specific point, if we mark it?''

"Consider it done.'' The Corsair pilot stated confidently.

"Kureha, can you deal with those choppers?'' The leader asked.

"On it.'' The silhouette of a very colourful F-7A Skylancer broke away in full afterburner.

"Itsuki, with us. We're gonna make a path for Zeliska. Archer, Paladin, can you two watch for incoming bandits?''

"Copy.'' She replied, scanning her radar set for any aircraft that weren't them. The scope was clear for now, meaning she could focus on flying the Arrow, rather than

''They shall not pass.''

/-/

Onboard the F-9A, Itsuki flipped the myriad of switches to arm his cannons. As much as this was his idea, he couldn't say he was too confident in its success – the ice was thick enough to take an armoured column advancing over it at speed, 20mm fire was barely likely to make a dent in it; not to mention the likelihood that every anti-aircraft gun in the column would be pointed on them as they made their attack run.

"Itsuki, clear on the plan?"

"I am. I shall hit the ice from three o'clock, yourselves from nine o'clock. With some luck, we won't be eviscerated by triple-A, or meet head on as we pull away from our dives.'' There was a small degree of sarcasm in his voice, but then again, it was more unusual if there wasn't such a tone present.

''Zeliska, hang back till we're clear, then give them hell!''

This had every hallmark of a "Jet plan'', as Kureha had so eloquently named such a concept – it was almost suicidal, it was desperate… and above all, it would somehow work perfectly.

Still, now was not the time for such thoughts, and he focused on bringing the Crusader around to his desired angle. The formation of tanks, an advancing mass of steel armour, trucks and other supply vehicles, was now exactly where he wanted them; just off his three o'clock position. In his front windscreen, he could just about make out the purple tailed Phantom of his flight lead, itself in a banking turn to line up their attack path.

"In position.''

"Go in… 2, 1. Go!''

Pushing forward on the control stick, the Crusader dove for the ice, the mass of the aircraft assisting the considerable thrust of the J75 powering it as the altimeter spun rapidly. Around them, cannon fire arced into the early morning sky, 20mm, 23mm and 37mm tracer fire all streaming around them, though coming nowhere near them thankfully. If he had to guess, the gunners were firing blindly into the sky, expecting a far bigger strike force than just a pair of madmen and a mad woman.

He wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth though, as he hit the attack point. Two short pulls of the trigger, and two distinct streams of 20mm fire dove ahead of him, unlike his flight lead, who'd clearly decided there was no kill like overkill, and held down the trigger. The resulting burst looked more like a laser beam than a stream of tracer fire, he thought as he pulled the Crusader back into a climb…

The ice below them was far from shattered, but their combined gun run had certainly left an obvious mark in it, and clearly made an impression on the Belkan forces below, a number of whom were deciding that maybe bringing an entire tank column across a frozen lake was not the most intelligent of ideas, as their tanks broke formation and began to scatter.

"Zeliska, your target's made, but they're scarpering!''

"Not for long they won't be.'' She answered, as he watched the Corsair diving on the impromptu target from directly ahead of the formations. Approaching the target, the eight of the sixteen Mk82 Snakeeyes fell away from the aircraft, the tail units of the high-drag bombs opening to allow a chance for the Corsair to escape its own bomb run.

Nearing the top of his escape trajectory, he looked back to the scattered tanks below, as the bombs impacted their makeshift target, and the ice beneath them cracked and crumbled around them, the cold and bleak waters below offering little chance for escape from their stricken vehicles.

" Sie sind untergegangen! Scheisse, das Eis ist-"

'' Das ist Badger, wir versinken-''

Came the desperate cries of the crews below, many of which fell eerily silent as yet more specks disappeared below, into the frozen, jet-black water, never to be seen from again.

"Let's hope they bought their life vests, ay Captain.'' Sierra quipped, a slight tone of horror in the Casanova wannabe's voice, and he didn't need to be in the cockpit to know that Jet was looking over their handiwork, equally aghast at the carnage below. He couldn't help but agree with him there; it was necessary, that much he knew, but drowning however many soldiers in their tanks, as they fought to escape from their watery graves… was just not a fair fight.

He wasn't one of these people who fought fair in the conventional way, but neither was he a dangerous psychopath who would gun down an escaping enemy. He was more pragmatic than that. If they fought him, and proved a match, they at least deserved a chance to survive the encounter, he thought. Had this been a conventional tank battle, the people in those tanks could've escaped, they could've fled their burning tanks…

Zeliska was the first person to speak after that. "We did what we had to do.'' She told them...

He wasn't so sure on that.

/-/

On the ground, it was all hands on deck, as aircraft after aircraft was reloaded and refuelled. Ground crew ran around in a routine that, to an untrained observer would've looked like headless chickens, but to those in the know, made the most efficient use of the limited time available.

Lisbeth, as the only player mechanic amongst the 23rd, was amongst those quickly analysing what she could patch up in the field, and what was a ground-able problem.

Thankfully, none of them had taken fatal battle damage yet, though Black Blade One's Phantom was certainly giving its best impression of a pincushion, with the holes removed, what with how many holes it now had in its wings and more alarmingly, near its engines. She was glad that most of the 23mm shells that had clobbered their way into the Phantom had done only superficial damage, but she was far from certain that the shells weren't still in there, and nor did she have the time to check for them. It was either a patch up job, and risk blowing up Kirito and Argo, or keep them back and tell them to fly something else…

Asuna's Wind Fleuret had an equally large problem in that it was missing a pylon now and had developed a slow leak in its hydraulics system, as she could tell from the pooling liquid beneath the left main landing gear. No way was she sending that up into a fight, not when there was a distinct chance Asuna could lose control at any moment!

Her radio crackled to life, as she slapped a red sticker onto the Lightning, telling the crews it was a ''repair later'' job. "Liz, can we have our Phantom back?"

"No chance, there's an uncooked cannon shell in the no.1 engine. You'll have to take something else!" She answered, as she rushed over to another aircraft, a J35 Draken, which had sustained minor-

BOOM.

With absolutely no warning, an explosion tore apart the hangar besides her, and threw her to the ground. As she picked herself up from the ground, her eardrums ringing as if someone had gone at a church bell with a sledgehammer, and her balance almost completely shot, she looked over the carnage besides her.

"What the hell was that!" She asked, as a player ran out of the hangar on fire. They were one of the lucky ones, she thought as they put themselves out in the snowdrifts beside hangar no.4 - another player had been seated in an F-11A that had been almost completely destroyed by the explosion. The only signs that there was even a person in the F-11 was a shattered helmet lying besides it, and what looked like tatters of clothing. For once, she was thankful for ACES not being realistic; she wasn't sure how she'd have coped with seeing a charred corpse lying beside their wrecked plane...

She looked up to the air quickly, and amongst the trails of aircraft, she noticed a group of suspicious contrails... rocket trails.

"Dammit, they're moving rocket batteries in. Looks like they've gone for the old, "if we can't have it, then no one can" approach!" Someone confirmed what she'd seen from the air. Bastards! They were going to kill everyone here without letting them even get so much as airborne!

"Samurai Lead to all Samurai Flight, we're ready to go."

"Liberator is ready too."

"Goldeneye to all active aircraft, destroy those rocket batteries! Liberator, Samurai, cleared to go now!"

With radio quickly placed in pocket, Lisbeth rushed over to the undamaged hangar. If nothing else, she couldn't stay on the ground and let the Belkans keep bombarding them with rocket fire! They'd all be dead before they had a chance to do anything, and whilst her pet project might not have rockets or bombs at the moment, there was no reason she couldn't act as a forward air controller for the fast jets...

"Solitaire Two, we've got a new problem! More transport helicopters coming in, and this wave having gunships escorting them!"

"Kureha, can you-"

"Not unless I'm shooting them with my handgun."

Inside the hangar, she looked over to her pet project – a World War Two Era A-1 Skyraider - and grinned. Well, she stood a better chance of destroying them than anyone in a fast jet, she supposed… ''Goldeneye, this is Lisbeth. I'm going after the helicopters. Give me two minutes to get airborne.''

The A-1 was certainly a sight to see in ACES; a large, single-engined, low wing monoplane powered with an R-3350 18-cylinder radial engine, originally designed as a jack of all trades for the US Navy – dive bomber, torpedo bomber, attacker, replacing earlier aircraft designed for those roles specifically. To Liz though, the Skyraider, or SPAD as it was commonly known, was a brilliant example of her life motto; don't write something off, just because it isn't brand new.

The Skyraider she was in was apparently twenty years old, and had seen action during the last days of the last Osean-Belkan War in the 1940s, flown by a legendary ace, who'd chosen it specifically for a last gambit to destroy Belkan leaders at a conference…

And that was why she'd planned to restore it as her own personal plane, though she reckoned that might be a bit optimistic after today. If the Skyraider even survived today, she would be extremely impressed, she thought as she rushed through the start up sequence for the R-3350, reciting every step by memory, and watching as the big four bladed paddle prop in front spun into life, grinning slightly as it did.

In her haste, she'd ignored that this should've been a momentous thing for her; the first time she was going to actually fly the SPAD... and it was in defence of Rechlin.

Still, she quickly taxied the A-1 out of the hangar, and taxied to the runway as fast she could. The rockets may have halted briefly, but that was no doubt to reload, and she really didn't fancy seeing the carnage wrought by the next volley.

On the runway, she opened the throttles, and the R-3350 roared to full power, pulling the large aircraft as it thundered down the runway. ''Lisbeth- err, Blacksmith – I'm going.'' It didn't take long to get the prop driven attacker into the air, and as she climbed above the haze and smoke of the base, she could see just how big of a problem they had - alongside their attempts at countermeasures. Radar guided AAA guns and M163 air defence vehicles were being moved into position, but as long as those gunships remained in play, they were vulnerable...

Swinging the Skyraider towards the small dots in thei air, she spotted the first wave of choppers closing in – Mi-6 ''Hook'' transports, alongside Mi-8 ''Hip'' transport gunships. Eight Mi-6s and eight Mi-8s, no doubt carrying troops to storm the base, once the rockets had softened up the air defences…

Not if she had anything to say about it!

Quickly uncaging the gunsight, she checked that her cannons were armed, and circled over the top of the first formation. Whilst the helicopters could easily scatter, she was far more heavily armed, and above all… angry.

There was a reason the saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" exists, and the Belkans were soon about to experience that.

Lining up the A-1 on her first target, an Mi-8 leading the formation, she pulled in above and behind the helicopter, and fired her cannons. Only a short burst, but that was all that was needed to send the Hip into a spin and force the Hooks to break out of the way of the crashing helicopter.

''Blacksmith, one Hip down.''

"I ch dachte, sie hätten sie alle getötet! Idioten!''

''Shit, that one actually hit us! Solitaire Lead, we took a hit, but we're still in the fight!'' One of the Navy fighters shouted, as she looked around her. No sign of any stricken aircraft.

"Blacksmith, our ground units are having problems locking onto those helicopters. Any ideas?" She scanned the formation, and spotted a single Mi-8 acting differently, in that it was sticking with the Mi-6s nearby, rather than breaking formation to harass targets, as well as looking slightly different with a set of X-shaped antenna on the sides of the fuselage.

"I think I see the problem, there's a jamming Hip in with it. Dealing with it now.''

The Skyraider dove on the offending Hip, a burst of 20mm fire slamming against the side of the helicopter. Unlike before, where the Mi-8 had simply spiralled to earth, this one just exploded, its debris acting as an impromptu shotgun against the Hook next to it, which began to fall towards the earth itself, billowing smoke as it fell.

"Blacksmith, two down. One Hip, one Hook.''

"Understood Blacksmith, ground forces can take the helicopters from here. This is Goldeneye to all allied aircraft… command have ordered a full retreat from Rechlin. All pilots airborne are to make their way to the Osean Naval Base at Canaveral, regardless of rank. If your plane isn't operational, you'll be put on a transport out of here ASAP.''

She didn't need to be a psychic to know how well that was going to go down, as her radio practically exploded with chatter, very little of it happy. She could understand why, many of the pilots had just spent the past few months fighting to protect their home base, and now, they were just supposed to abandon it? It probably didn't sit right with them at all; she knew it didn't sit right with her!

On the more measured side, she knew that the Belkans would overwhelm them before too long. They might have repelled them for now, but the Belkans would've learnt a lesson from this, and not go over the lake, or worse still, bring in far more troops than one base could handle. They could resist the attacks for now, but how long would that last, and more concerningly… how many of them would it cost to continue to hold back, rather than take the chance to regroup and come up with a way to fight back…

/-/

"So that's it? We just leave, with the Belkans at the door?'' Alice had taken this surprisingly well, all things considered, Eugeo thought. Well, she hadn't exploded in anger at the thought of retreating, which boded well for getting her to actually go along with everyone else, rather than staying to fight in vain…

"Pretty much the sum of it, yes.'' He answered.

"We could hold them back for another day at least, long enough for reinforcements to arrive…''

"Alice, look around you…" Eugeo pleaded with his friend. She was stubborn and prideful, yes, but she wasn't stupid! ''Maybe we can, but look how many people have already died. I don't like it any more than you do, but right now, charging in won't do any good, nor will digging our heels in on this.''

"I… no, you're right. If we stay, more people will lose their lives, but I want to make sure the newer pilots go first. We can handle ourselves, but we cannot say the same of them."

"I agree with Alice. We've all seen some kind of fighting already, we know what to expect." Asuna voiced her opinion on the matter, as the trio of F-5As behind them were readied for flight, having replaced Kirito and Argo's Phantom, and her Wind Fleuret for the getaway, meaning they had a load that mostly consisted of drop tanks, and a pair of AIM-9s on wingtip rails. Besides them, their Mirage IIIs were being refuelled again, and re-equipped with drop tanks in place of the radar guided R530s for the flight to Canaveral.

"Okay, then we'll each take one lead for a flight of recruits. Give them something of a fighting chance, should the worst happen."

The retreat was not what could be considered organised, Eugeo had realised. A second flight of C-141 Starlifters were being loaded with almost anything they could conceivably fit on the transports; weapons, people, vehicles, planes, if you could name it, then someone was trying to put it onboard.

The first flight had taken off about ten minutes ago, with Twilight Flight taking position as escort for the transports. That flight had mostly been ancillary staff – the people who weren't really military, but did find themselves on a military base – and so, it was decided to protect that flight more so than the equipment.

Equipment could be replaced, people not so much.

According to Koharu, who was giving them a progress report whilst she was still in radio range, they'd been joined by the Navy flight, who'd received similar instructions to head to Canaveral to refuel, before heading back to their home base, and Lisbeth, who'd strangely appeared out of nowhere in a prop-driven Skyraider, and so would be fairly well defended if push came to shove.

Argo had taken point for their group, her flight given the callsign Rodent (much to her displeasure) leaving first, and heading along a southern airway over the abandoned Fort Pleasant airbase.

Kirito and Asuna had also each taken a flight of recruits with them as they left, with the plan being to rendezvous with Fuurinkazen en route, somewhere near the Rutherford waypoint.

At Alice's behest, they'd stayed on the ground until last, taking the last flight of recruits with them. The flight, given the callsign "Blue Rose", after his Mirage, would keep watch on the second flight of transports until they exited the combat area, then head to Canaveral themselves.

''Alice to Eugeo, we are passing the first waypoint. Weather is getting worse out here. The wind is rising, and visibility is decreasing steadily." Alice's flight, Osmanthius, was further ahead by about five miles, having peeled away from the transports sooner when it became clear they would be well covered, even with just his flight.

''Copy, Alice. Eugeo to all Blue Rose aircraft, how copy?''

"Blue Rose Two, I copy."

''Blue Rose Three to Blue Rose Leader, we're still here, sir.''

''Blue Rose Four, checking in. Very bored.'' He found it hard to disagree with Rose Four there. Escort missions were one thing in games, but escort missions that lasted for the duration of the flight to Canaveral were… well, a special kind of hell, he'd decided. Not that he doubted the recruits ability to fly in a straight line, and not crash into a mountain or something similar, but they'd escaped the range of any Belkan defences and it really was a simple matter of just maintaining level flight until they reached Canaveral. He let his mind briefly wander during the moments of dullness, and thought about Alice - no doubt she was going stir crazy doing nothing but maintaining course, airspeed and altitude.

That thought lasted until he saw the clouds in front of them. They were going to fly through that?! He was no stranger to turbulence, admittedly, but the many flights he'd been on throughout his life were not exactly in Mirages, but rather Airbuses... and even they tended to avoid clouds that were the same colour as an exhaust for obvious reasons!

''Umm, we aren't actually going through that, are we?'' Asked Rose Four.

''Goldeneye...'' Eugeo called, though with no response. ''Goldeneye, come in?'' Brilliant, he thought, that really was all they needed - a cloud that was no doubt the precursor to a much greater storm, with no way to contact anyone further up the chain than Alice.

''Eugeo to Alice, can you reach anyone else?''

''Negative, I am barely maintaining contact with you through this. Maintaining heading 200 through the storm as it looks considerably lighter.''

''Copy, we'll be behind you Alice.'' He changed channel on the radio. ''Blue Rose, turn to heading two-zero-zero, and maintain 10,000 feet. There should be a mountain range to our two o'clock.''

''This is Solitaire Lead, can anyone hear us?'' The radio crackled faintly, before falling silent. ''We are-''

''Solitaire Lead, this is Blue Rose Lead, how copy?'' No response. ''Solitaire Lead, can you hear me?'' Still no response as he waited for any signs of life. ''Alice, did any of your flight hear that?''

''Affirmative, Osmanthius Three heard it, but the signal was very weak. Damn this storm...''

''Agreed, and the winds are picking up too. Looks like there's a blizzard approaching.''

''Just what we needed.'' He could tell that Alice was rolling her eyes, despite being nowhere near. It was something of a sixth sense he'd developed throughout his years of friendship with her... ''All aircraft, try not to get separated up here.''

/-/

The flight through the storm was probably the least comfortable flight he'd ever had, and also felt as if it were the longest. The Mirage was not built for flying through turbulent mountain air, and the delta wings certainly didn't help on the stability front either; being designed for high speed flight, not resisting buffeting in a storm above the mountains...

Still, the flight was relatively uneventful, even if he did feel as if he'd spent an hour in the gym, wrestling with the controls of the lightweight interceptor as particularly vicious gusts attempted to throw the Mirage off course. It was at least more interesting than sitting and spending an hour with absolutely nothing to do other than keep a watchful eye on the younger pilots.

Eventually though, they'd found their way into clearer airspace ahead of the storm, and coincidentally, their radios had suddenly started working again. Whilst still limited by range - reaching Kirito and Asuna had proven a challenge that required relaying the message through Argo - they could at least reestablish some kind of situational awareness, which was a considerable improvement in his eyes.

Amongst the many calls being made to regroup, one came through from Argo. ''Alice, Eugeo, it's Argo. Did ya have any contact with Ko-chan after Rutherford?''

''Negative, Argo.'' Alice answered.

''Can't say we did, no. Why?''

''Ah shit.'' For once, Argo seemed much less ''devil may care'' and much more concerned. ''Kii-bou says they ain't heard from her since their group went inta the storm. Was kinda hopin' you'd have some clue where she is. The Navy guys and gals say one o' theirs is missin' too, their leader 'pparently. Turned to go round the storm, an' that was the last time they talked to 'em.''

''Navy flight...'' He heard Alice mumble, before she spoke more clearly. ''Argo, the Navy flight was Solitaire, was it not?''

''It was, yeah, Ali-chan.''

''Argo, we received a call from them, but it was faint and we weren't able to get one out to them. I think they'd passed out of range... but they sounded distressed though.'' He remembered the short conversation about the phantom message with dread.

''Ah hell.'' Argo groaned. ''I'll get the message back t' Kii-bou, but I think we can say they're missin' now...''

''Uhh, Blue Rose Leader, this is Three. Ronye thinks she's found something on the navigation charts - a couple of non-directional beacons in the middle of the mountains. Descending heights too, as if they were for landings.''

''Strange... why would you have a landing path in a mountain range?'' Alice thought aloud, sharing his thoughts. He took a quick look at his own navigation charts, but he was unable to spot the mystery NDBs in the brief moments he could spare looking away from his instruments and flying the Mirage.

''Argo, did you hear that?''

''I did indeed, we're gonna haft'ta check the charts on the ground to confirm that, but I'd say that's our best shot of findin' 'em.'' Argo stated. ''Blue Rose Three, ya might'a just saved their lives...''

He wasn't sure why, but he could've sworn he heard Argo mumble something afterwards, something that sounded suspiciously like ''Just hope we ain't too late...''

Regardless of whether she'd said that, or he misheard, he agreed with her. He really did hope they were onto something with that NDB theory, else they'd have seen another charred mess of wreckage after a violent crash - only this time, it wouldn't have been an airliner full of people, it would have been someone they'd flown with.

For now though, they'd need to get on the ground soon, else she wouldn't have been the only turned into a charred mess. His Mirage was at bingo fuel, meaning Alice's probably wasn't far off either, and even with the drop tanks they'd equipped, they'd emptied them first and jettisoned them shortly before the storm.

''Canaveral Control to Osmanthius and Blue Rose Flights, we have you on our radar. Fifty miles out, we'll give you vectors for runway two-five left.''

''Copy Canaveral, expect vectors for two-five left.'' He replied. ''Let's get on the ground. Sooner we're there, sooner we can start looking for them...''

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - Avalon

Onboard the F-4J Phantom, Jet found himself regretting a few of his own words. Particularly the phrase ''a safe pair of hands'', when he applied it to his RIO, Sierra… as it was at least partially thanks to him that they were now wandering around the mountains aimlessly, with very little by way of working avionics.

Admittedly, he wasn't entirely blameless for that situation either – it had been his choice to gun run a rocket battery that had then blasted them with shrapnel, after all – but he'd be damned if he let Sierra know that he felt that way!

"So, where the hell are we?" He asked, frustrated at the current situation.

"You want the reassuring answer, or the realistic one?" His RIO asked him.

"Realistic."

"Good, because there wasn't a reassuring one. We're way off course and drifting somewhere. I've managed to get some basic systems back online, so we're following a series of NDBs, and the radio's… not, not working anymore."

"So, we're heading for an airbase?"

"Maybe, that NDB's almost like a blinker. Keeps turning on and off."

"Alright, I'll try and call for help. Maybe someone's still about…" He wasn't holding out much hope on that one, they had passed so far off course that anyone who followed them would soon be hopelessly lost and out of fuel themselves. "Solitaire Lead to any allied aircraft, how copy?"

"Twilight Four, I can hear you." A new voice came over the radio, taking both him and Sierra aback slightly. "Are you alright? You've been trailing fluid since Rutherford…"

"Err, not really. We're running low on fuel, electronics are patchy, and we're thoroughly lost. Fuel state is nowhere near enough to get us Canaveral, but we're heading for a series of beacons we've found…"

"Oh…" A sense of realisation was present in the girl's voice. "I've, umm, been following you. I thought you knew where you were going."

"We didn't even know we were off course till ten minutes ago. Too busy trying to troubleshoot our avionics." He admitted. "Twilight, what's your fuel state?"

"Hold on, I'm checking." The frequency went quiet for a few seconds, no doubt as she tried to work out her remaining flight time. "Same as yours. Nowhere near enough to reach Canaveral, but I still have thirty minutes left."

"I have a lock on the first NDB – Jet, turn to one-eight-zero, and descend to nine thousand." Sierra announced from the back seat, having gotten the intercom working again.

"Descend?!" Both he and Twilight spoke in unison. "We're over the mountains, mate. At least two of those peaks are way above 9000!"

"I'm telling you what information I'm getting from them. First one is at 180, and 9000. Thirty nautical miles." Sierra defended.

"Solitaire Lead, I'll continue to follow you." Twilight told him, in what he assumed was an attempt to reassure him. With a moment for thought, he pushed the Phantom into a shallow diving turn to the south. At 30 NM, he didn't need to angle the nose any steeper than two or three degrees, and he could pull the throttles back to flight idle. Gravity would do the rest of the work for them, he reminded himself as the Phantom dropped into the mists rising above the peaks.

"Still on course?" He asked.

"Bang on the money, cap." Sierra agreed. "Hey, boss? If we make it out of this… I'm going to throttle you; you know that right?"

"If we make it out of this, there's going to be a queue of people waiting to do that, you know." He joked back, although he wasn't entirely sure he was joking. Kureha was probably going to give him the bollocking of a lifetime, and he was sure Sierra wouldn't be exempt from that either. An angry Kureha was a bad idea; a worried Kureha was nothing short of terrifying, he'd found out a while back, and Zeliska, whilst very much cool and composed most of the time, certainly had an overprotective side that would no doubt be shown when they got back.

"Twilight, Solitaire. Are you still with us?"

"With you, sir. Two miles behind you." Both he and Sierra exchanged a glance at being called ''sir'' suddenly. Had she mistaken him for a captain? Did she think he was her superior officer, or did she just forget to call him sir before?

"Jet. NDB's coming up in about a minute."

"Got it. Next one?"

"Err…" He paused, tapping the compass. "Got it! 225, descend to six thousand. Beacon is at eighteen nautical miles."

"Okay, descending. Twilight, you got that?"

"225, six thousand, eighteen miles." Twilight recited, and he spared a second to crane his neck round to look for her aircraft. Behind them, at their eight o'clock, was a burgundy Hawker Hunter, with turquoise markings, which he assumed was her. The Hunter was a favourite aircraft of his, having seen a number of the aircraft doing displays during his time back home; including one he'd chose to make a model of, an F.58A known as "Miss Demeanour", which carried a brilliant yellow, orange, red and midnight blue colour scheme that had set it apart from all other Hunters he'd seen. It had been a shame that it had been repainted in camouflage, he thought sadly, before his head returned to the task at hand – not dying in a fireball on the side of a mountain.

"Approaching the NDB, Jet." Sierra said, before peering around him, eyes wide in surprise. "Holy- you see that, right?!"

"Yeah…" He looked over what he assumed was the runway. There were two things he'd immediately noticed about it: the first, was that it was massive – easily able to land a heavy bomber on it, let alone their fighters…

The second was perhaps even more important, and perhaps even more obvious… it was built into the side of a mountain, the runway held up on a complicated structure of scaffolding and struts that somehow protruded from the face of the mountain.

"Well, at least we know it's an Ace Combat game now, eh?"

"I don't believe it…" Twilight seemed even more surprised than they were, and he couldn't blame her. Supervillain style mountain bases weren't exactly commonplace in the real world, nor were they in Strangereal, he supposed. "Umm, sir? Is that where we're landing?"

"Looks like it." He answered, secretly thankful for the carrier landing practice he'd had so far. Whilst the runway was far from short, it was however a far smaller target than a usual airfield, and most airfields didn't have the danger of plunging thousands of feet to your certain demise if you lined up incorrectly.

"Jet, we're running on fumes now. Minutes left, if that." Sierra reminded him, and he snapped back to reality again.

"Got it. Twilight, mind if we take the lead? We're pretty much on fumes here…"

"Go ahead Sir." She replied, his eye twitching slightly. He'd have to get her name when they were on the ground… and tell her to stop calling him "Sir''! Sir was his father, not him!

"Okay, Solitaire, we're going in." There was a saying he'd remembered, about all pilots having one landing they had to make, and that it needed to be perfect else the consequences didn't bear thinking about.

In today's case, those consequences would be, and in order: slamming into a mountain, slamming into what appeared to be a reinforced door at around 70 or 80 knots, or plummeting into the valley below the mountain, all of which had one outcome – exploding violently, scattering him hundreds of metres in every direction.

Needless to say, he wasn't particularly hoping to test his zero-zero ejector seat today in escaping that outcome.

"Flaps." He called, as he extended the flaps through to 15 degrees, then to 30 degrees.

"Flaps positive. On the glidepath." Sierra confirmed. "Gear?"

"Gear down.'' He stated with a momentary pause. "Three green."

"Throttle?"

"Reduced to flight idle."

"Ready?"

"Not in a million years." He answered before thinking about it. "Still, who wants to live forever, eh?"

"I dunno, I'd like to at least see my 18th birthday, cap! Approaching the runway…"

For the briefest of moments, Jet expected to hear a sickening crunch as the landing gear collapsed under a far too fast approach speed, but no, the gear held up, and as fast as he could manage, the anti-lock braking was active and the brake chute bloomed from the back of the aircraft, pulling the eighteen-ton grey and purple rhinoceros that they called a Phantom to a halt, a distance from the door.

"Michael… you are absolutely insane, you know?" Sierra laughed, and for once, he couldn't help but laugh along.

"No kidding, I don't think I've ever been quite so anxious…" Despite knowing that everything was safe, and that they were on relatively solid ground, he couldn't help but pat himself down to check he still had every part of him. It was almost as instinctive as breathing, he found.

"Umm, sir? Can I ask a favour? I, umm, I've never landed on a runway like this…"

"Twilight, we're clearing the runway. Sierra will guide you in." The American jumped out the back seat of the Phantom, onto the wing and dropped off it, whilst he began to move the aircraft as close to the side as he could; to give Twilight the most landing space possible.

With only a single engine powered up, and even then, only at 15% power, the Phantom inched over to one of the overrun gutters, leaving most of the runway open for her to use. "Twilight, Sierra. Runway's as clear as it'll get."

With the Phantom now out of the way as best as he could get it, he made himself scarce – just in case. He'd rather not have a Hunter land on his head, and whilst Sierra was navigating her in, having a second person there would just get confusing… he'd hate for her to replicate the opening scene of Airplane! with a Hawker Hunter after all.

From his new position, he watched as the Hunter made its approach. Despite the mist making for an unpleasant approach, she was doing well – the plane was stabilised early into the approach, and she'd made sure to keep an eye on her speed too. He wouldn't say she was a natural at carrier approaches, but she was certainly better than he'd been on his first one!

Seconds passed by, and the Hunter contacted the runway at a relatively safe speed, its braking parachute deploying behind the jet and slowing the considerably lighter aircraft a fair bit faster than their Phantom had decelerated on the ground, eventually coming to a halt in just over three quarters of the distance they'd covered on landing.

Without thinking, and despite the successful landing, it was clear that both he and Sierra had the same thought, which was to rush over to the Hunter, and check that Twilight was safe. It was their fault she was even here, after all, and they both knew that…

As they got there, the girl who stepped out of the cockpit was not exactly what he was expecting. She was easily a foot shorter than he was, with straight black hair, whilst her eyes were a beautiful emerald colour. She was also barely standing up as she got out of the plane, something that he was slightly too caught up in looking at her to notice…

"Sorry, spaced out there. Are you okay, err…"

"Koharu, and yeah, I'm fine… just a bit, umm…"

"Join the club, if we sleep tonight with the adrenaline, it'll be a miracle!" Sierra joked, before realising something. "Though, uhh… where even are we?"

"No idea" He answered. Wherever they were, he wasn't entirely sure that landing was the end of their problems; the storm they'd passed through was rapidly approaching, and there was a reinforced door in the way of anything resembling cover. A reinforced door that was now creaking, and rising…

"Err… did any of us press anything?" Sierra asked, an eyebrow raised at the door as it now rose on its runners. "Maybe it's pressure sensitive?"

"Why would you build a door like that that can be triggered by only three people?"

"You got a better theory then?"

"Just one – there's people here." He replied, spotting a pair of silhouettes as the door passed above waist height. Whoever was here, they must've been stood close to the door, he reckoned. A few more seconds passed, and he got a better glimpse at the people stood there – an older man, probably in his mid-forties, and a woman, probably in her late thirties, both stood there… with rifles pointed at them.

"Hey cap, I think you were right. There are people here…" Sierra added unhelpfully.

"State your name, rank and intentions." The woman ordered; her rifle trained on him. The rifle in question was probably an FAL, a Belgian made battle rifle chambered in 7.62x51mm NATO and used by almost everyone and their mothers at some point, if his memory served him correctly.

"Err, Jet, Flight Lieutenant, and not dying." He replied.

"You're Osean." The man stated, having shot a glance at the two planes behind them. It wasn't a difficult conclusion to draw, he realised. Both planes were adorned in Osean roundels, and their Phantom had, in rather large letters "THE NAVY" on it. "Come in, else you'll freeze out there."

As they walked inside, the first thing he noticed was just how large the base was – no doubt built to handle intercontinental bombers at some point, as the roof of the base was even taller than the gargantuan B-36 Peacemaker, he reckoned. The roof was quite badly dilapidated, with beams showing signs of rust around the rivets, whilst the runway/hangar seemed enormous. Assuming this was intended to be used as a runway too, which, given the lack of any form of equipment on it and the yellow lines running down it, seemed likely, then there was no doubt the runway to well over ten thousand feet in length…

"Umm, thank you… who are you?" Koharu asked, clearly still shook up from being held at gunpoint. Out of all of them, she was probably the least likely to have had such an event happen before – Sierra having a father in the Marines, whilst he had… an unconventional childhood, both of which had led to a surprising (and in some way, worrying) ease around firearms.

"Commander Bercouli Heirlentz, but you can call me Bercouli… miss?"

Almost instantly, the girl stood stock still and gave a full salute. "Second Lieutenant Koharu Honda, sir." Followed quickly by both boys giving similar gestures…

"At ease, all of you." The Commander rolled his eyes. "I'm not even your commander, anyway."

"So, where are we anyway… uhh, sir?" Sierra asked.

"Welcome to Avalon. The most secure base in Osea… and where none should've ever stepped foot." Bercouli seemed far too pleased with himself at that fact, Jet thought. "I suppose you want to know why we're here too?"

"If you don't mind, yeah."

"Would kind of help."

"You might want to sit down for this, it's a long story…" The commander almost grinned.

/-/

Bercouli was something else, Koharu had decided. The man oversaw the entire Rectan Air Forces, and despite being considerably older than any of them - Sierra even joking that adding their ages together might just come near to his age, before a withering glance from his flight leader soon shut him up – he soon demonstrated his skill in a war game he'd set up for them.

Between herself, Jet and Sierra, none would've lasted more than thirty seconds, before being confirmed downed. That had been a sobering reminder of just how far they had to go to be on the man's level, though not one she hadn't been acutely aware of.

Her fight with Alice before Operatic Society had told her that much, and during the combat over Rechlin, she'd had several near misses where her head wasn't quite in the fight as much as it should have been.

On the other members of the Rectan forces, she had mixed opinions. Fanatio, Bercouli's number two, was equally as dangerous, though considerably more headstrong than her commander, and whilst the war games against her had been far from successful, two of the trio had managed to put up a far better showing – she lasted 45 seconds, whilst Jet managed to last approximately two minutes. Sierra had been the outlier, lasting only a measly 15 seconds, before a radar guided missile would've hit him head on. Jet had had quite a laugh at his friend's expense, making a joke about it not being the first time he'd only lasted seconds against a woman.

Was it crude? Yes.

Did she find it quite amusing? Also yes.

Then came to the younger members of the RLAAF – Sorteliena and Eydis, plus two mercenaries; LLENN and "Pitohui", the latter refusing to give her name and claiming that she could call her Pito. Sorteliena and Eydis were both around their ages, and whilst she was relatively confident (at least, outside of ACES anyway), both girls gave her pause for thought in the looks department.

Both girls were not what you'd expect from a hardened combat veteran (though she supposed she could talk on that one, given she looked to be the furthest person from the frontlines, and yet had fought the Belkan Air Force numerous times…) – Sorteliena was very much the type of girl she'd have expected to see at school, topping the rankings for her results, whilst Eydis was… well, it was hard to explain.

Jet had suggested it was "big sister energy", the type of overprotective that came from having siblings that you'd had to look after at some point for longer than a few hours.

The contrast between the two was quite something; Sorteliena was prim, proper and kept her head about her at all times, whilst Eydis was upbeat, jovial… and had absolutely no sense of boundaries whatsoever, as Jet had found out when she decided to peer over his shoulders whilst he was examining the Phantom to see what needed replacing immediately, and what could be put further down the repair list.

The poor guy had gone bright red when he turned round and ended up nearly kissing her by mistake…

Whilst he was busy being mortified (and teased by Sierra for it), she and Sorteliena had gone over her aircraft to check for battle damage and make some hasty patch ups. Remarkably, the Hunter had survived without any major damage, only minor cosmetic damage and a single 23mm hole that taken a chunk off her cartridge ejector port and rendered the number one cannon out of use for the time being.

Eventually though, the Phantom was patched up to cover over the myriad of 12.7mm and 23mm holes in its underside, and they were taken to the other side of the hangar to check out the aircraft that the girls flew…

"Blimey, they did give you guys museum pieces, didn't they?" Jet asked as they looked over the aircraft that Liena and Eydis showed them.

Small, straight winged aircraft that had once been in polished metal, but now looked far more war-weary, as small dents and scuffs littered the airframes. On each wingtip was a large drop tank, painted with whatever colours the girls had chosen; Liena's painted purple, whilst Eydis' were in grey and black. The nose of each aircraft was equally as decorated, both having the respective colours applied.

"And they sent you up against the Belkans, in those?" Sierra thought aloud in horror. "Christ, even the MIG-17s we fought would be a danger against those Shooting Stars, let alone -19s or -21s!"

"That is why we are still here today."

"Yeah, we were the best of what was left." Eydis said that statement in a joking manner, but it was clear she wasn't joking about it. If they were "what was left", then Koharu didn't want to imagine how many friends or colleagues they'd lost in that fight…

"We were what was left." Liena pointed out. "As were the planes. A few others got through on transport planes, but these were the last fighters we had."

The group fell silent as they processed that. They'd been relatively lucky, in that few people had really been lost over their area. These girls, they'd not been sent into a life of dull CAPs and the occasional ground attack mission, but rather all-out war, at risk of constant annihilation should the Belkans take them even marginally more seriously… and yet, both remained relatively upbeat.

"Sorry to lighten the mood, but your boss wants to see you. All of you." That was another reason Koharu had found for her discomfort around "Pito", her ability to treat every situation as a joke, no matter how serious it was. Even Sierra, who she soon came to realise was a serial womaniser, and a man with an answer for everything, at least knew when to read the room and turn it off. Pito, on the other hand, did not – she would've said she couldn't, but the woman had enough of an understanding of social settings to act reasonably… she just chose not to, however – and often drew fire from everyone for it…

/-/

Later that evening, they'd settled into the bunks they'd been provided, about two minutes from the boiler room, and twenty-five minutes from the rec room. Still, at least they were warm, he supposed.

Bored, but warm.

That boredom went some way to explaining why the crew of Solitaire were in bed at only 9pm, an experience he found a little bit like being a school kid who'd been told to go to bed early, though after the day they'd had, he wondered whether there was any point in that, given the adrenaline rush he was still enduring…

"So, cap, what do you think of our new allies?" Sierra didn't even look over from his bunk as he asked the question, and he paused for a second.

"How'd you mean?"

"You get any weird vibes from those two merc chicks?" He thought about it a little bit harder. "Almost like they're taking some sick glee in fighting. Maybe that's just me though."

"The smaller one, err, LLENN, wasn't it? Nah, I think she's… alright, maybe. The other one, "Pito", she gives me the creeps just looking at her. Feels like I'm looking at… I dunno, a serial killer maybe."

"Yeah, somethin's not right about her. Still hot though." Jet felt like pressing the pillow over his RIOs face and counting to 100 sometimes. Life or death, it didn't matter – he could always rely on him to be thinking with his other head if women were involved. "And before you pipe up, don't worry, I know the rule about crazy. Besides, I like all my body attached, thanks."

"The others seem alright though."

"Of course you'd say that, you nearly snogged one of them earlier…" Sierra laughed, whilst he went red again, wishing he could crawl inside his own skin at the incident.

"That was an accident!" He defended loudly.

"Yeah, I know." Sierra shrugged it off. "Still, she wasn't the one giving you the side eye. Even if she did nearly give you the side tongue." He glared towards him, before what he'd said set in… side eye?

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, that Koharu girl. Honestly, I'd say go for it – what've you got to lose?" Sierra shrugged as he sat up in bed. "I know about you and Kureha anyway; I know what happened on the first night."

He winced, thinking back to that night. That had been a lapse in judgement on both their parts, and both knew it – though neither wanted to admit that perhaps their feelings hadn't been quite as deep as they might have imagined.

"If you want my thoughts on it, you and her, you work as friends and hell, each other's wingmen, but romantically? That's going to be a whole new mess, you know?"

Jet sighed as he lay back against his pillow. For once, Sierra had a point – their actions on the first night certainly hadn't helped matters, but the fact that both had feelings for each other was hardly a secret. Anyone with only the slightest of people reading skills could see that there was some kind of attraction there, but that was the problem…

What kind?

"Anyway, cap, I'm going to get some sleep. Don't go dreaming of her now, will ya?" He joked as he fell quiet.

"Which one…" He muttered against his pillow.

/-/

As he intended to follow his friend into the land of nod, he came across a slight complication – no matter how much he closed his eyes, counted sheep, etc, he simply couldn't sleep. Adrenaline was already a hell of a boost, but after everything that he'd learned today; the story of the Belkan legions, the tales that Bercouli had told them, and no doubt how much the man had lost in that conflict, hell even meeting everyone else… he was way too awake to sleep.

Even at 2am.

He really hated insomnia sometimes.

Deciding that maybe some fresh air would do the trick, he went for a walk. Avalon was massive, he knew that much, and what was visible to them was only part of it. Bercouli had detailed its purpose to them, in that it was a nuclear dispersal base. Should the Belkans, or god forbid, the Yuktobanians, ever get bright ideas of a nuclear strike on Osea (and a bright idea it would be, when the nuclear flash went off…), the base at Avalon was intended to house a flight of twelve intercontinental bombers – probably B-35 and B-36s, given that the timespan the Commander had hinted at was around 1950, just after the last Osean-Belkan War – all armed and ready to launch a retaliatory strike.

A one-way mission too, by all accounts.

That had forced a grim realisation into his head – Avalon should never have been found, because it was never meant to be found. They had gotten ridiculously lucky in finding it, and even more lucky in landing at it safely.

The NDBs were purely for aircraft to follow outbound, to avoid a collision course with a mountain whilst carrying a Mk17 hydrogen bomb, which, whilst not necessarily the end of the world… would certainly be a bad time for anyone nearby…

"Can't sleep?"

"Well, I can't now. I've just put the thought of nuclear implosion in my mind." He joked, as the raven-haired girl sat down beside him on the runway. He wasn't sure how safe sitting down on the side of a runway was, let alone when said runway had a four-thousand-foot drop into oblivion below it, but the high winds and low temperatures were certainly bracing, if nothing else.

"You reckon anyone will find us?"

"Considering where we are, I'm not all that hopeful." He admitted, before leaning back. "Still, at least we have food and shelter, which is better than the alternative."

"What was the alternative?" She asked.

"We slammed face first into a mountain and were scattered to the wind."

"I guess so, then." He wasn't sure that was particularly reassuring to her, given the fact she was now looking down below them… "Umm, thank you for helping us at Rechlin."

"Oh, no problem there. Just doing our job, right?"

"Yeah, I think. Jet, can I ask you something?"

He tried his best not to let Sierra's teasing from earlier get to him, not least because she looked extremely beautiful against the moonlit sky, her emerald eyes glistening against the dark night sky, and… he really wasn't doing a good job here! "Sure." He quickly answered.

"Have you… ever had…" She stuttered, and he did his best not to think of the obvious ending to that sentence, and keep a clear mind… "A mission that went wrong?"

Oh, thank God that was what she was asking! "Yeah, we had a CAP mission the other day, provide cover for a CSAR helicopter after a Belkan interceptor shot down an airlifter. Started off fine, but we got bounced by a pair of MIG-21s. Managed to down both, but not before the helo was hit and crashed. Never found out if anyone survived."

"Oh, I had something similar… maybe. There was an airliner that got ambushed by MIGs, it made it back to our territory, but it was too badly damaged. I watched as it crashed near our base, and I couldn't do anything!" He saw tears come to her eyes, no doubt as she recalled the event. "All I could do was watch as it broke apart!"

"Koharu, think of missions like a game of cards. Some days, you'll have the best hand you can get, and on those days, everything will go right, and you'll feel ten foot tall when you land." He remembered one of the things he'd read in his dad's journal when he'd gone looking for them as a child. "But there will be days when you have a losing hand, and no matter how much effort you put in, the outcome won't be a win."

"I don't quite get it?" She wiped tears away.

"You can't control what hand you get all the time. Sometimes, you'll be dealt a bad hand, and I don't want to say you just have to get over it, but what happened there… you said it yourself; you couldn't have done anything more to help. Think how close they got, and ask yourself, what would've been the outcome if you weren't there?"

She fell quiet, no doubt considering what he'd said.

He'd learned that, in air combat, it was pilot versus pilot and skill mattered above all else – after all, he'd seen stories where pilots flying far inferior craft had slain far superior craft; the girls were excellent examples of that, with their P-80s and facing down MIGs.

Problem was, with missions like she'd described, pilot skill wasn't a factor. It was a race against time, and time was far more persistent, and far more willing to bend the rules than you were. If you had a sports car, then time had a Eurofighter instead.

"I can see why you're in charge." She smiled through teary eyes, and he pulled out a handkerchief from his upper pocket.

"I never asked to be." Now it was his turn to stare into the abyss below them. "I just knew that if I didn't step up, then no one would." He thought back to the battle of Rechlin, to dealing with those tanks… and felt a cold chill run through him.

Perhaps that chill was just wind rushing through the fabric of his shirt, but it was enough of a reminder of what he'd done back there. Maybe it was Itsuki's plan, but he'd been the one to agree with it, and that made him culpable in his eyes…

There must have been, what, forty, maybe fifty, tanks and vehicles in that formation, all left to sink and drown in the frozen waters of the lake below. What did that make him then, the Grim Reaper, bringing death in the form of Mk82 bombs, rather than a scythe?

"Jet?" She asked, watching him whilst he was off in his own world. "Can we, umm, go inside and talk instead? I'm starting to get icicles in places…"

"Yeah, it is quite cold out here!" And wasn't that an understatement, he thought! It couldn't have been above freezing out there he thought, and so sitting out here in a short-sleeved shirt, or in Koharu's case, a vest, was probably a fair way of the way to getting a Darwin Award…

/-/

After going inside, it had been a more pleasant environment to talk - a strange way to view an actual hangar, and all the dirt and grime that entailed, she would admit – and she wasn't all that sure when they'd finally fallen asleep, but what she did know was how they'd woken up.

With her head in his lap, as he leant against the wall.

Everyone's reactions had been honestly kind of strange. Most of them had offered them both words of… well, not necessarily wisdom, but advice, except the one person she'd expected to be most vocal about it…

Sierra, unusually, hadn't said anything, only offering the faintest of smirks towards his pilot, and strangely giving her a thumbs up at one point. That was another thing she'd have to decipher at some point, but not right now.

"Ah good, you're all here. We can begin then – we have an ally on their way to join us. They made a getaway from a Belkan base a few hours ago, but they took some hits on the way out, so we're going to need to help them in."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Whilst you three are here, we could do with the help to keep our numbers up. Not saying you must, of course, but I'm sure the girls would appreciate the help…"

She looked to Jet and Sierra, both of whom looked at each other, their expressions somewhere between apprehensive and confused. She'd already made her mind up, even if they hadn't; Liena and Eydis had risked their lives far more than she had, and she had always been taught to make yourself useful when stopping in someone else's home, after all.

Granted, she was sure her mom hadn't expected that to include flying combat missions for an unrecognised nation's definitely unrecognised air force, probably against the law and certainly against regulations, but it was the thought that counted.

"Anything to help, sir."

"What the hell, I'm in. What kind of gent would I be to leave such fine ladies in trouble?" She looked over and watched Jet's eye twitch.

"Guess I'm in too. Who's going up then?"

"I'll be taking you with me, kid." Bercouli told Jet, who looked a little surprised at that. "Your RIO seems pretty confident in you, and everyone else doesn't seem to hate you, which is a good start in my books."

"Thanks, sir."

"Oh, and one more thing, all three of you?" Bercouli asked them, as they turned to walk away.

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop calling me sir!" To the side, she was sure she saw Fanatio suppress a smirk at them. Perhaps this wasn't quite home, and she'd be glad to get back to the rest of the 23rd, but after last night, she certainly wasn't going to complain about Avalon.

Not yet, anyway. There was still time, she supposed...

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 – Ghosts

Three days had passed since Koharu had gone missing during the retreat from Rechlin, and to say those three days had been tumultuous would’ve been an understatement, Asuna thought to herself. During their advance, the Belkans had managed to take Rechlin and Kelstedge airbases from them, before nature had thrown up a snowstorm that was almost impenetrable to anyone but the foolhardiest, as a way of blunting that advance. Unfortunately for them, that had meant that their last known positions had both fell within the Belkan area of operations…

During these three days, Kirito had barely slept, his time spent working with Argo and Lisbeth, the small group trying to work out where she could’ve landed safely on her Hunter’s range. Relations amongst the squadron had been… touchy, to put it politely, when the possibility that they might not find her alive was raised. Despite how heartless she may have felt raising that possibility, she wasn’t a hopeless optimist – she knew that there was a real chance that her friend may actually be dead by now, and she really wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

So, she had kept herself pre-occupied to not have to face that possibility head on. Whilst Kirito, Argo and Lisbeth did their best to track Koharu’s flight path, or anywhere she could’ve landed safely for that matter, Alice, Eugeo and herself had taken the more mundane combat missions that they still needed to perform.

At the same time, their squadron had also grown – a number of the more promising recruits joining the flight roster, alongside the remainder of Solitaire Flight, Archer and Paladin. With their numbers dwindled by the loss of their leader, Paladin had stepped up to take charge of Solitaire until they had confirmation of exactly what had happened to their leader; be they dead or alive.

That had been the second powder keg, as it turned out, and Paladin soon backtracked on that thought, the older man being relegated to the position of Solitaire Four instead – and even then, that was mostly only to fill the numbers - whilst Kureha, the pink haired second in command, took charge of their element. If she was being honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if Paladin didn’t come back, the way at least one of them had been talking…

That bought her to her flight for today – callsign Flash.

A four-ship element led by herself, with Archer – a girl by the name of Sinon, who’d demonstrated superb marksmanship and aptitude with her Arrow’s… rather finicky weapons systems – taking her wing as Flash Two.

Flash Three and Flash Four were two of the promising recruits – a pair of girls by the names of Tiese and Ronye, both flying J35F Drakens, who’d been pivotal in noticing the mystery non-directional beacons that were currently the source of the hunt for Koharu and Solitaire One. Both were clearly skilled, having given the training NPCs a run for their money; Tiese even going so far as to demonstrate the cobra maneuver (although, at least according to her, it hadn’t quite been what she planned to do, but rather an underestimation of just how much lift the Draken’s double delta wing produced, and how much said wing could also function as an airbrake in high-alpha maneuvers…)

In the vein of unexpected surprises, it had come as a surprise to her that they were tasked with an airborne interception mission:

A Belkan resupply convoy was making its way across the Waldreich Mountains, to land at the recently captured Rechlin, which had fallen less than several hours after everyone had left. That convoy would consist of a pair of Antonov An-22 heavy transports, carrying reinforcements from Belka, whilst a flight of Antonov An-12s flew as fuel transports and other mixed cargo uses, being escorted by a series of flights of interceptors that would rendezvous with the aircraft at various stages.

However, thanks to a strike earlier that day by Klein’s flight, the escorts for the third leg would not be present, giving them approximately an hour-long window to bring down the transports – even if they were over unfriendly territory.

Something else had unsettled her about this whole mission too – several aircraft had reported seeing unidentified aircraft in the fog in the prior days. Some Belkan in origin; MIG-17s and MIG-21s, but some distinctively not; at least one member of Fuurinkazen, Issin, had reported seeing a Phantom chasing an old P-80 Shooting Star, neither of which were types that the Belkans had access to.

Hell, the P-80 was positively ancient, so she had no idea what it was doing here, the straight winged fighter having dated back to the mid-1940s! In the real world, it had been the first truly operational US jet fighter!

Still, the “Ghosts of the Mists”, as a number of pilots had christened them, were not their mission. Their mission was to intercept and destroy the resupply convoy, and that was the mission they’d carry out.

“Flash Lead, we’re approaching the intercept point. Arm your weapons and be ready for anything up here. I don’t like our odds if that fourth group of interceptors turns up earlier than reckoned.” Onboard the Lightning, Asuna had taken the time on the ground to ensure the interceptor was set up for such a mission – a pair of Red Tops on the chin pylons, and a full complement of 30mm ammunition for the twin ADEN cannons. Alongside the weapons load, she’d made sure to equip a pair of over wing drop tanks for the flight, just to make sure they had plenty of fuel onboard for the mission…

At 40,000 feet – the efficient cruising altitudes of their aircraft – they’d have fuel a plenty for the 400-mile round trip, but considering how notoriously fuel hungry Wind Fleuret was, well it didn’t hurt to err on the side of caution.

“Flash Two, I’m getting radar returns below us.” Sinon stated, her WF-105 having the most advanced radar system amongst the group, and thus, it had been decided that she would hold back from the attack, to utilise her skills more effectively. It had also meant that she would act as an airborne controller, to vector herself, Tiese and Ronye onto their targets. “Tally, flight of transports. Ten of them, around 20,000ft.”

“Understood, Flash Two. Three, Four, prepare for vectors.”

“Wilco, Lead.”

“Understood, Flight Leader.”

“Aircraft are attempting a turn to three-two-five. Lead, your call.”

“All aircraft, commence the attack on Two’s mark.”

“Two to all aircraft… Fox One.” Asuna watched as the weapons bay on the Arrow opened, and a pair of radar guided AIM-4s dropped away from the plane, the small missile blasting down towards its target of an unlucky Antonov. Knowing the attack was now on, she snapped Wind Fleuret into a half aileron roll, and allowed gravity to do its job in dropping the Lightning down to the desired altitude fast. Knowing how the Lightning picked up speed, she kept a diligent eye on her throttles, her airspeed and her distance to the target, as she descended on them – almost like a shark of the air.

Timing it with the precision one would expect from someone trained for perfection throughout their life, she pulled the Lightning out of its dive some five miles behind the formation, as Sinon’s Falcon collided with one of the An-12s, the wing of the smaller transport sheared clean off, amidst which she worked to achieve a lock on the transports. Seconds passed by, and the missile lock alarm sounded, leaving her with only a single task left… she fired the missile.

The Mach 3 capable Red Top blasted away from the Lightning, covering the distance to the An-22 she’d targeted in short order. Probably less than a second passed, and the proximity fuse detonated the comparatively massive warhead of the Red Top beside the first An-22; razor sharp shrapnel showering the giant and tearing its rear section almost completely from the aircraft.

The now devastated Antonov giant fell into a steep nosedive, from which there was no recovery without the now annihilated tail section. Watching the craft plummet, she saw as the Antaeus was engulfed in flames, and the excessive g-load tore the wings apart. The last glimpse she had of the An-22 was as its fuselage split into three sections, debris, cargo and no doubt people being thrown out into its burning wake as it fell into the mists below… “Flash Lead, one An-22 down.” She confirmed matter of factly, as if she hadn’t possibly claimed the lives of at least 200 people, maybe more, considering the sheer size of the An-22.

It was a consequence of war that people died, Asuna knew that, and she knew she’d already claimed one life at very least, in dogfights with the Belkan Air Force, but this felt different. In those engagements, it had been life or death – only one would fly away alive, and she would ensure that was her!

Against slow, lumbering transport aircraft with no escort whatsoever, it was no life-or-death situation for the fighters – it was a turkey shoot, plain and simple.

As… strange and almost warped as she found Alice’s belief that they were knights of the sky, she could agree with her counterpart that this was far from a sporting fight – it was the equivalent of a duel, where one combatant was given a water pistol, whilst the other received an actual pistol.

The outcome was a dead certainty, whereas one side would simply be dead.

“Flash Three, I have the other one!” The second An-22 banked steeply away from the formation and allowed Asuna to spare a glance at the damage done by Tiese’s attack on the giant. The starboard wing was trailing enough fluid to almost seem as if it were crop-dusting, whilst the numbers three and four engines were windmilling, and the rear doors opened, small dots dropping away from the aircraft as it descended into the mists.

It almost certainly didn’t get far into the mists, as the sky shone orange beneath them; a graveyard for the crews of the transports...

What would’ve been a brief, but solemn moment for Asuna was soon interrupted by her radio crackling to life… “Whatever bombs you keep dropping on us, kindly fuck off!” Someone yelled, completely blindsiding all of Flash Flight. “That last one nearly frigging killed us!”

“Whoever’s there, identify yourselves!”

“Flight Lieutenant Sierra Gabriel of the Osean Naval Squadron VF-24, callsign Solitaire One. 845154.”

Asuna blinked in surprise, completely losing her situational awareness momentarily. “Err, Flash Lead, Tumbleweed.” She called, trying to get her head back in the fight. “Wait, Solitaire One? Is there someone else with you?”

“Identify yourself first.” He stated belligerently.

“Flight Lieutenant Asuna Yuuki, 23^rd Fighter Squadron, Osean Air Force.”

“Asuna!” A far more familiar voice came over the frequency – that of her errant comrade.

“Koharu!”

“Err, Flash Lead, was it?” A different male voice asked. “Hi, this is Solitaire Lead here. Could you do us a little bit of a favour, and not drop any more bombs on our heads, please? The last one came awfully close to actually hitting us.”

“Understood, Solitaire Lead. They weren’t bombs though; they were crashing An-22s.” The transmissions fell silent briefly, and Asuna hoped that the second Antonov hadn’t scored a direct hit on wherever their location was…

Thankfully, the radio sprung back to life with Koharu’s voice. “Asuna, can you mark our location?”

“Already on it, Koharu.” She scribbled on the map on her kneeboard with the approximate location. “Where did you even find to land? This is some of the least flat terrain possible!” She asked in disbelief.

“Heh, funny story… but uhh, we found an airbase down here... and some planes.”

“And some people.” Someone else that she didn’t recognise the voice of, chimed in.

“Koharu, can you keep broadcasting on this frequency? I’m going to contact Canaveral to get someone to come and get you.”

“Will do, Asuna, but umm, could you make it quick please? The electrical generator took a hit from one of the crashing planes, and well… we don’t have much time left till we’re out of commission.” Had it not been for her oxygen mask, she would’ve pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Of course, there had to be some complication, didn’t there?

“Flash Lead, Flash Two. We have a situation.” Sinon called. “A flight of Belkan MIG-23s, approaching from the east. Looks like they’re in reheat too.”

“Understood, Sinon. Tiese, Ronye, be on guard.”

“Granite Team, diese Verräter sind in der Nähe. Töte sie alle und zeige ihnen Belkas Macht.” The radio crackled, and a transmission came through, this time in German (or Belkan, she supposed).

“Don’t suppose anyone here speaks Belkan, do they?”

“Flash Lead, I speak German.” Ronye stated, before translating. “I don’t think they’re here for us. They said they’re looking for traitors.”

“Either way, they’re going to run into us too, and probably before whoever they’re looking for.” Sinon thought aloud.

“Asuna to Canaveral squadrons, can anyone here me?”

“ ‘sup, Aa-chan? Thought ya were on a mission?” Argo answered.

“We’ve got a flight of MIG-23s closing on us, and they’re looking for blood.”

“Yer sure they’re MIG-23s? We ne’er even saw one in the beta, let alone now…”

“Variable geometry wings, big nose. Sinon’s sure they’re Floggers.”

“Ya heard their transmissions yet?”

“Yes, they claimed to be, umm… Granite Team.”

“Granite Team?! Aa-chan, pull yer flight out now ‘fore they get there! That is an order!”

“Granite Team… they’re here for us.” A new voice came over the radio. Considerably older, and more annoyed by their presence. “Miss, err, Yuuki, wasn’t it? Apologies, but Granite Team are our fault, and our problem. Your friend has the right idea – fall back.”

“Asuna, this is Kirito. Do not engage them, they are the Belkans’ ace killers. Their whole job is to kill the best of the best, and make sure they’re dead. We fought them once in the beta test, none of us survived long…”

“Flash Lead, we’re awaiting your instructions.”

“Flash Flight, fall back.” She ordered, though begrudgingly. They’d not fought an enemy they couldn’t kill yet… but it did worry her that even Kirito, the most stubborn person she knew, was telling her to retreat. That spoke volumes to how dangerous they were, in her mind…

“Flash Three, you’ve got a missile trail heading towards you!” Sinon shouted from her overwatch position. “Jink left!”

“Oh look, the Osean pigs shooting down defenceless transports too. Let’s see how they do against someone who shoots back…” She didn’t need to see the pilot’s face or even speak the same language to detect the bloodlust in his voice. That was genuinely spine chilling, she thought… they weren’t here to shoot them down, they were here to kill.

“Asuna! Alice and Eugeo are scrambling now, and Solitaire are turning off their CAP. Reinforcements are two minutes away!”

“Asuna, I’m locked up!” Sinon shouted, no doubt throwing her Arrow into a high-G turn to break the lock.

“Everyone, stay defensive!”

“Flash Flight, this is Argo, can ya hear me? Those MIGs, they’re a helluva lot betta in acceleration than anything ya fly… but turnin’ wise, they’re like flyin’ a brick!” Argo explained. “Ya need ta dodge their attacks, an’ counterattack when they go sailin’ past ya!”

“Ronye, I understand!”

“Dodge and counter, it is!”

“One o’ th’ tricks they used against us was ta zip off into thin air, then come back in from ‘nother direction, so watch out for that!” Argo cautioned, as her RWR started blasting. It looked like she was in this fight too now…

Throwing Wind Fleuret into a jinking turn to throw off the radar lock, she reminded herself of Argo’s advice and formulated a plan – drag the MIG into a turning engagement. If her Lightning could hold its own against the MIG-19 and 21, then it could easily keep up with the 23, she reckoned. Still though, these guys were the best of the best, clearly, so hoping for a stupid mistake would be… optimistic, to put it mildly.

She spared a glance behind her and saw another missile trail and the faintest outline of the MIG-23. Given the RWR had ceased, she could only assume it was an IR guided one, and she threw the Lightning into another turn to trash the missile’s lock… only this time, the missile stayed with her, much to her horror.

Now considerably more anxious, she threw the Lightning into a steep climb, before snap rolling inverted and dropping the nose into a steep dive; the maneuver draining the missile of its kinetic energy halfway through the maneuver and causing it to sail past her six o’clock harmlessly.

“Everyone, those IR guided missiles are a lot more agile than ours!”

“Tell me about it!” Sinon shouted, her Arrow being the least agile aircraft out of the four, so it made sense that she would struggle with them the most…

As she rolled out of the dive, she caught a glance of the MIG-23 as it sailed past her. Frantically, she worked to lock up her remaining Red Top on the fast-moving MIG… and the growl of the missile’s seeker told her she’d succeeded. “Flash Lead, Fox Two!”

The short-range Red Top dashed straight forward, and even before the MIG’s pilot could react, was showered in shrapnel from the 31-kilogram warhead on the nose. Smoke and fluid trailed behind the MIG as it slowed down, its engine battered with shrapnel. “Granite Two, I’m hit! Falling back!”

“Flash Lead, confirmed a hit on the MIG.” Asuna stated, pleased with herself. The cheering on the radio was a nice ego boost too, if she was honest. “He’s bugging out.”

“Tiese, mine’s heading back towards you!” Ronye called out as the two Drakens sailed towards each other, head-to-head with both each other, and the MIG-23s chasing them. As the four aircraft came barrelling past each other, she spotted two noticeable bangs – the first looked almost like a collision, whilst the second could have been a radar guided missile finding its mark…  

“Tiese, I got a hit on one of them!”

“Asuna, this is Kureha. We’re less than a minute out, paint your targets for us!”

“Help Sinon, she’s going to need it most!”

“Got it. Itsuki, can you help Archer?”

“It will be done.”

“Asuna, do you need assistance?”

“Negative, mine’s bugging out. Tiese and Ronye, though…”

“On it.”

“Sir, this is Granite Three. More enemy reinforcements are closing… a lot of them. At least a dozen aircraft…”

“Schisse. Granite Team, fall back and cover Two. Vendetta, are you in position?”

“Hm, what a group of cowards.” Itsuki commented, clearly annoyed by them running away. “Still though, where exactly did those radar signatures come from? They aren’t ours…”

“Blacksmith to Flash Lead, figured you guys could do with some backup… no one said it had to physically be there though.” Lisbeth joked, as she finally caught a glimpse of the aircraft approaching… an old P-2 Neptune, with Kirito and Argo in tow, in their Phantom.  

“Liz, I have no idea what you did, but you may have just saved the day there.” Asuna admitted.

“Eh, just spoofed their radar signals. Nothing too fancy if the British could do it...”

“I resent that remark!” Solitaire Lead called from the ground, clearly insulted. The smattering of laughter clearly helped to lighten the mood though, so she wasn’t complaining there.

“Blacksmith, you are aware you spoofed ours too?” Itsuki asked.

“Ah, uhh, sorry about that. Still working out the kinks in this thing… wait, the ones off your three o’clock?”

“Indeed… why?”

“They’re actually there. That wasn’t me.” Lisbeth answered, concern in her voice.

“I see them! A pair of MIG-17s… they’re, erm, very colourful.” Sinon stated, and Asuna caught a glance of the two swept wing fighters zoom climbing out of the mists. She wasn’t kidding about the colourful bit – one of them was black, with a red and orange markings across its nose and wings, whilst the other was bright pink! Not even Desert Pink, but bright pink!

“Hello new friends! We’re here to help kill the Belkans!” The pilot of the black fighter called out enthusiastically… too enthusiastically. Especially at the “kill the Belkans” part. “Aww, they’ve ran off! Come back and fight us now, you little bit-”

“Pito!” The other pilot sighed. “Osean aircraft, please do not shoot – we are friendly!”

“So friendly, we gave your missing lambs food and shelter!” The pilot apparently known as Pito commented in a jovial tone, though she was sure there was some kind of subtext she wasn’t aware of.

“On that note… that voice just…” Kureha thought aloud. “Nah, must’ve been hearing things – I could’ve sworn that sounded like Jet.”

“Hey ‘Reha. We’re not dead. None of us are…”

“You mean neither, right?” Zeliska asked, confusion in her voice.

“Nope, he meant none.” Koharu answered, with what sounded like a little bit of annoyance at being forgotten…

“Ko-chan!” Argo exclaimed, her voice crackling on the frequency.

“Huh, it really is one of those days, after all…” Liz laughed. “Wait, where the heck are you? We’ve just spent three days looking for anything, and got nothing…”

“Seriously, did no one notice the massive runway sticking out of the mountain?” Solitaire Lead – err, Jet even, she supposed - asked, clearly in disbelief. “It’s the size of Tracy Island! Hardly small!”

Lisbeth laughed awkwardly, as if to change the subject. “Uhh, how are we going to get you out of there though?”

“Leave that one to us, young lady.” The older voice said. “We’ve still got fuel, but we’re pretty much out of ammunition. Whatever’s still in the planes is it for us.”

“Wait, I’m picking up something…” Liz muttered, as if she wasn’t sure of what she’d seen. “Oh fuck-All aircraft descend to mountain height, now!”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m picking up a pair of aircraft on radar, they’ve just fired a ton of missiles in our direction!”

“Granite Team, wait until the airburst has scattered the pigs… then slaughter them.” She heard a horrified gasp over the radio from Ronye, a sound that caught everyone’s attention.

“Ronye?”

“They weren’t retreating at all! Those missiles are… airburst missiles?” The younger girl asked in confusion.

“All aircraft, dive now!”

Out of instinct, Asuna pushed Wind Fleuret over into a dive, fighting back the negative-Gs as she pushed the plane below the peaks. She wasn’t exactly sure what an airburst missile would do to them, but it would almost certainly be an unpleasant experience for anyone caught in the blast.

The first missile streaked into view, and Asuna caught a momentary glimpse of it – small, stubby and probably unguided, based on the parabolic trajectory it took, like the unguided rockets they used.

That was the only glimpse she caught of them, before the world around her shone again.

Not orange, as she’d witnessed at Rhinemartial, but a brilliant white light like a nuclear…

Oh no.

Those airburst missiles were nuclear tipped.

“All aircraft, respond!”

“Blacksmith, I read you Asuna.”

“Kureha, yeah, I’m still alive. Only barely though, what even was that!”

“I believe the airburst weapons are small nuclear devices.” Itsuki responded, his Crusader looking worse for wear, its paint stained with radioactive material from the draft of the blast.

“The Vendetta system…” The older man stated again, though this time with far more apprehension in his voice.

“That was just a myth though, sir?” A different woman came over the radio, probably older than them, but younger than the man she was talking to. “Wasn’t it?” The certainty of her earlier claim fading as the realisation set in… that was no myth.

“All pilots, this is Commander Bercouli of the Rectan Liberation Air Force. I accept this isn’t your fight, but we need to destroy the weapons platforms launching those missiles, and we’re in no shape for that fight. Our last fighters have scrambled, but I doubt they’ll be able to do much…”

“Understood Sir. This is Flash Lead to all Osean fighters, we need to cover the Rectan fighters, and destroy the missile platforms. Sinon, anything on your radar?”

“One aircraft at fifty miles and sixty thousand feet. I’m not sure the Arrow can reach it with its weapons system, Asuna.”

“Same here, ma’am. Our Drakens took a few hits, and we’d be down to guns at that altitude.”

“Understood. Flash Flight, protect the Rectan aircraft.”

“Ma’am?”

“I’m going after the launch platform. Solitaire Flight?”

“We’ll cover you, Asuna.” Kureha replied. “Solitaire Flight, these bastards want a fight, right? I think that’s the least we owe them for their little present…”

“Oh indeed, let us show how gracious we are as hosts…” Asuna didn’t know Itsuki particularly well, but she could sense the bloodlust in his words there, and for once, she didn’t blame him one bit.

“Never thought I’d agree with Smiley back there, but let’s show them what our hospitality looks like!”

Asuna pushed the throttles on Wind Fleuret to full thrust – past the afterburner gate, and the twin Avons spooled into life, a pair of bright orange flames trailing behind the Lightning as she was pushed back into her seat.

If Sinon was right, then her target was at 60,000 feet – practically the altitude limit for the Lightning, though she could push the Lightning up to 70,000 feet in a zoom climb, though she had no doubts that Wind Fleuret, already a handful at lower altitudes, would be nothing short of uncontrollable at such an altitude – but it was circling, which gave her a thought; if she could set up an attack pass from behind the missile carrier, she could use the twin ADENs to force it down to a lower altitude, or to break off its attack.

If she could do that, once it dropped, it’d be game over for the missileer – whatever it was, was a large aircraft, and it stood no chance in a straight fight against at least ten aircraft… all of whom were rather angry that they’d only narrowly avoided being at ground zero of a nuclear airburst.

“I’ve got it in sight – looks like a Vulcan bomber?”

“Luckily, it’s one of the prototypes then. No real aiming system, so to speak. Just fire the rockets in the vicinity of the target, and hope they hit something.”

“Still nuclear missiles, they don’t need to hit the target…”

“Then we need to make sure it can’t fire anymore of them.” Asuna stated, as she pulled Wind Fleuret into a stern chase position. Coming from behind and below, she figured she’d would need to place a heavy burst onto the launch platform to disable it, and if she could, force it to break away.

If not, then 30mm fire was hopefully enough to kill the platform.

“Granite Team, this is Vendetta, we have a fighter coming for us. We need hel-” The tracer shells ripped into the underside of the Vulcan, and a trail of smoke began to pour out from its number one and two engines.

Smoke that soon became fire, as the Vulcan entered a steep banking dive. For an aircraft named after the Roman god of fire, the attacker lived up to its name, a roaring inferno consuming the rear of the plane as it plummeted back to earth. “Flash Lead, target is on fire. It’s going down.”

Cheering came over the radio from all members of the unlikely group, and for once, Asuna didn’t feel the usual guilt she’d had over killing the crew – being nuked tended to have that effect on people, she figured.

That cheering was short lived however, as Liz called out to the group. “All aircraft, looks like the escort have come to party. Sixteen MIGs, heading straight for us.”

“Don’t they ever just give up?! They’ve lost today!” Tiese shouted, clearly frustrated with how this day was going.

“No chance, missy. These guys don’t know the meaning of the words give up… literally, there’s no word in Belkan for it.”

“Solitaire Lead, this is Solitaire One. Hope you’ve still got your weapons onboard, ‘cause we’re a little short today!”

“Good to have you idiots back!”

“Eh, it’s better than her wringing our necks, I suppose.”

“Just wait till we land…”

“Alice, Eugeo, where the hell are you guys? We could do with all the help we can get here!” Kirito called out, and she caught a glance of something in the distance, a new swarm of aircraft, and definitely not the Belkans!

“Sorry, sorry, we got caught in an aerial traffic jam... we did bring reinforcements though.” Asuna figured that, if this had been a movie, that would’ve been the moment the camera panned around to show the entirety of Samurai and Twilight Flights, both armed to the teeth, and raring for a fight.

“Samurai Lead, don’t start without us!”

“Twilight Two, remember the bet? Dinner’s on them if we win!”

“Yuuki, this is a mission, not a game…” Ran told her, though she was certain that Yuuki had just laughed it off.

“This is Blacksmith to all allied aircraft. IFF frequency for Rectan aircraft is being updated… now! And just in time too, more Belkan aircraft, another twenty-four of them!”

“Black Blade Lead to all aircraft… engage!”

/-/

The air battle above the mountains was nothing short of chaos, Alice had realised.

She had committed a cardinal sin of aerial warfare almost immediately – she had lost track of Eugeo shortly after the merge, but there was no time to think about that now, as she found herself flying in an almost bizarre formation; herself chasing a MIG-21, whilst another had turned up on her tail, itself chased by an Ocean Blue F-8…

“Blade Five, you’ve got one on your tail!” She heard Klein call, before a MIG-21 exploded behind her. “Not anymore though! Samurai Lead, splash one MIG!”

“Much obliged, Samurai Lead.” With the unwelcome visitor dealt with, she was able to focus on getting a lock from her Magic heat-seeker. The growling in her headset told her it was ready and that she was in the envelope to fire, and so she did.  The missile dropped from the rail, and before she could say what was going on, slammed into the port wing of the MIG, shearing it clean off the aircraft, and sending the MIG crashing to earth. “Alice, splash one MIG-21.”

Despite the victory, there was no time to celebrate as an F-80 tore past her canopy, being pursued by a MIG-17 and a slightly dented looking MIG-21; clearly hit by .50 calibre fire, but not downed. Positioning Osmanthius behind the MIG-21, the bigger threat, she opened fire with her twin DEFA cannons – 30mm shells pummelling the lightweight frame of the MIG and forcing it to break away. “Hah! Try picking on someone who can hit as hard as you!” She shouted against her oxygen mask, as the MIG fell away from view, and the -17 decided to break away too, not wanting to meet the same fate as it’s comrade.

Perhaps the Belkans did have some intelligent pilots after all, she thought to herself.

“Abyss Ten, thank you.” The F-80 pilot called in a voice she absolutely recognised. No way could it be her… could it?

“You are welcome, Eydis.” She spoke, but not into her radio. She couldn’t help but feel a smile come across her face, despite the dire situation. One of her best friends, missing since the day they logged in, was alive!

Perhaps today was a day for miracles, after all.

Despite that, they had a job to do, and in the briefest moment of calm between fights, she took a glance at the situation and did something that Eugeo had been trying to get her to do since they were children… stop and think for a second, rather than charge in headfirst.

Behind and below her, she could see a pair of Drakens dragging one of the Granite Team members through the mists and the mountains, whilst a purple tailed MIG-21 charged them head on, its guns firing on the MIG as it passed.

To her starboard, Kirito & Argo had dragged another member of Granite Team into a twisting fight, whilst Asuna chased them both down.

Above her, she watched as a second MIG-21 went toe-to-toe with the third member of Granite Team, almost jousting the ace as they passed…

Around her, aircraft tore past from any and all angles, and she selected her prey; a Delta III interceptor that had joined the fight in the second wave, no doubt.

The Delta III, known in ACES as the Thunder FG.1, was a giant aircraft, far bigger than her Mirage, and far faster too. Although never built, the Delta III was expected to reach Mach 2.5 at a minimum, carrying a pair of Red Hebe missiles – a large semi-active radar guided missile, with a 150-pound warhead, designed to utterly devastate bomber formations – meaning it needed to be both big and powerful.

Unfortunately for the pilot of the Delta III, it also had the turning performance of a battleship and a weapons system designed by Britain in the 1950s, putting it in the same league as Sinon’s Arrow. Unlike the Arrow however, the Thunder did have a gun, and ground attack abilities, only one of which would prove relevant in a dogfight situation.

Even more unfortunately for the pilot, she wasn’t planning to enter a dogfight situation. Instead, she nosed over, and dove for the Thunder at near the speed of sound, readying her remaining Magic for an easy kill…

An attack run that was interrupted as her missile alert began to blare in the cockpit. “Schisse!” she growled, pulling back on the stick to put the Mirage into a tight turn to break lock. Thankfully, the missile fired towards her was an older Atoll, rather than the newer Aphids on the MIG-23s, and it sailed past her harmlessly.

Now out of position for her attack on the Thunder, she spotted another target – a pair of MIG-17s being chased by… a pair of MIG-17s. It really was a good job Lisbeth had updated their IFFs earlier, else the blue-on-blue rate would be unthinkable in this battle, she thought.

Without any warning, the allied MIGs split up, forcing the Belkans to chase one or the other, or to split up. Unsurprisingly, they chose to split up, and she took her chance to engage the Belkan chasing the pink MIG, pulling in behind the hostile MIG. Readying her remaining Magic, she suddenly felt her plane start to vibrate slightly, requiring delicate control inputs to keep the craft stable.

Those control inputs began to become less delicate, and more forceful as the vibrations became worse, until a MIG-17 dashed straight past her nose in a vertical climb from underneath; the other allied MIG, painted in a garish black, orange and red scheme, whilst the hostile MIG simply burst into flames.

For once, Alice was genuinely stunned at how quickly that had happened, and only barely dodged the careening MIG as it passed her by…

“Alice, ya’ve got one on yer nine. MIG-21!” Argo called, and she broke into the path of the MIG, throwing its aim off, and causing it to sail past. On instinct alone, she snapped the Mirage back to the right, and pulled the plane into the tightest turn she’d ever managed, her eyelids feeling heavy as the G-forces pushed her into the seat of her plane, her bodyweight increasing nearly tenfold. She spluttered against the forces, desperately trying to fight not only gravity, but the MIG that had passed her by.

“Hey!” She heard someone call out, her ability to recognise anything really impaired by the G-LOC. “Want to pick on someone?! Try this!”

From her cockpit, she spotted a Hunter coming towards her, whilst the MIG disappeared into a cloud of smoke, fire and shrapnel. A maroon Hunter… now she really did believe in miracles!

“Koharu?” She asked hesitantly as the Hunter formed up beside her, its pilot waving at her.

“Yup! Turns out those tips on dogfighting helped!”

“You have no idea how glad to see you I am right now.” She laughed.

“I’m surprised you can see anything after that turn! Looked like it knocked you out briefly, so I stepped in. Sorry if I took your kill…”

“You have my eternal gratitude for that, so do not worry about “kill stealing”.”

“Blacksmith to allied aircraft, looks like their numbers are dwindling. I only see six more on the scope.”

“Gotcha, Liz. Whoever gets the last ‘un, gets free drinks fer the week!” Argo called out.

“I do not plan to lose then.” She stated bluntly.

“Same here. Flash Flight, we’re winning the bet!” Asuna countered.

“Ya hear that LLENN, free booze for a week!” One of the allied pilots called out. “I’m winning that bet, everyone.”

“Argo, did you have to rile everyone up?” Alice wasn’t privy to what was happening in the Phantom cockpit, but she could just imagine Argo grinning at the escapades she was about to cause…

“Hey, lover boy! I’m winning this one!”

“Sure you are, Eydis. Sure you are. Sierra, we still got any Sparrows?”

“Plenty, cap.”

“Oh good. You know what to do then…”

In the distance, a pair of MIG-19s exploded without even attempting to evade the missiles fired at them. From another position, the colourful MIG-17 dove on a retreating MIG-17, the cannon hits sending the MIG into a death dive.

“Show off.” She just knew Eydis was rolling her eyes at the display. “You weren’t that cocky last night…”

“L-last… n-night?” She had once said it was impossible for a human’s vocal range to enter that required to irritate dogs. Kureha was currently doing her best attempt to prove her wrong with her shrieking…

“Yeah, we’re getting strangled when we land.” One of the allied pilots sighed, resigning both crew to their fate.

“So, uhh, who did get the last one?”

“I think that would be me.” From below her, she finally regained a visual on Eugeo, his Mirage looking a little less polished than before and somewhat covered in soot, whilst a MIG-21 fell away ahead of him, sans its left wing.

“Well then, I think the drinks are on all of us tonight.”

/-/

The return to Canaveral was nothing short of victorious for all members of the 23^rd Fighter Squadron; not only had they achieved their two primary missions in destroying the transport flight and finding the missing pilots, but they’d engaged and defeated the Belkan Air Force’s ace killers, fought and defeated an entire battalion of aircraft, and destroyed one of the Belkan superweapons in the form of the Vendetta… all with nary a scratch to themselves.

Idly, Alice wondered if this was what it felt like to be an overachiever, because if so… it felt remarkable!

“Alice, are you there?”

“Oh, yes. I was just thinking about things.” She answered.

“I’m not going mad, but one of those pilots, the Rectan ones, that sounded like…” He looked around at the flight line, and more specifically, to the pair of Shooting Stars that were now taxiing in.

“She did, yes. She even flew like her too…”

“I’ll take your word for that one, Alice.” He smiled, and the pair began to walk over to the parked jets.

She had seen Shooting Stars before, mostly in museums or as warbirds, but to see one up close, and one that had fought in lopsided battles… and won those battles, not least when it had been flown by one of her best friends? It was an odd feeling indeed.

As the pilot of “Abyss Ten” got out, Alice looked to Eugeo, who, despite his usual calm demeanour, was currently in a minor degree of shock. “It-it can’t be… can it?”

“I would say it is.” She responded with a smile. “Eydis!”

The pilot of “Abyss Ten” turned round, and went wide eyed briefly, before running over to them. “Alice! Eugeo! It’s actually you!” With no warning, both were drawn into the tightest hug they’d ever received (itself an achievement, given Eydis was prone to bearhugging them in normal circumstances…), and fought for oxygen as their friend refused to let go…

“Eydis, you’re kind of… ack!” Eugeo fought his toughest battle yet – not being starved of oxygen by a weepy Eydis!

“We are glad to see you… but would you… guh!”

“I thought you were both dead! I was terrified it was just me, and-” She could feel Eydis almost sobbing against her flight suit, though whether they were tears of joy or sadness, she really could not tell right now… “I was so relieved when I got told you guys lived!”

“Yeah, we’re still here.”

“Indeed, Eydis.”

Finally, Eydis let go… if only to wipe her eyes so as she could see again. “Heh, never thought it’d be you two coming to my rescue back there!” She laughed. “Even got the whole ace custom aircraft!”

“They are not that customised!” Alice defended. She was one to talk – her Shooting Star was painted with a black and grey nose as well!

“Aren’t they? What’s with the matching blue markings then… and the gold paint?” Eydis teased.

“I… I simply like the colour gold. That is all!”

“Didn’t say anything about the matching markings though… oh!” Eydis gave a knowing smirk as she looked both of them over. “You two finally admitted it then!”

“Admitted what?” Alice blinked in confusion, trying to understand her friend’s comment.

“Eydis! Nothing like that happened! Nothing!” Eugeo, on the other hand, was far less confused and stammered as he tried his hardest to dissuade Eydis of her ideas…

“Aww…” Eydis looked disappointed by whatever Eugeo was trying to get through to her, before giving a cheerful smile. “Still, means I get my shot!”

Oh, that was what she meant, Alice realised.

“Eydis…” She smiled sweetly.

“Err, Alice?” Eydis asked, a worried look on her face.

“I don’t think your “lover boy” would be too impressed if he heard you talking like that…” Despite what she led people to believe, she wasn’t entirely clueless socially, just rather awkward. She understood the theory of socialising, it was merely putting it into practice where she fell down. Unfortunately for Eydis, she’d had 15 years of experience in handling the girl, and knew exactly how to trigger a response from her…

Perfectly, as it turned out. Eydis blushed furiously and looked away from the pair. “Yuh-you heard that, huh?”

“Oh, I did. I would be happy to meet this man, just to tell him what to expect… and what to fear, should he not stack up.”

The fact that both Eydis and Eugeo gulped and shuddered simultaneously told her exactly what they were thinking… and for those wondering, she did indeed know she was terrifying sometimes.

/-/

That evening at Canaveral was a strange experience for Kureha.

After the week she’d had, she really did feel like unwinding – constant battles for an entire week, losing two of her best friends, only for them to return to save the day a few days later with a ragtag group of pilots, and dealing with the politicking that went along with such warfare had drained any energy she had, and she was exceptionally thankful that they had been given an extra few days ashore to steady their nerves again.

Not that anyone else seemed to need it, as they were all too busy in the bar celebrating everyone’s return, and the victory over the Belkans at what was now being called Area B4E, which meant she was alone on the tarmac, watching the stars above her.

Maybe she was strange in that way, everyone having a celebration, and here she was, stargazing. Not that she minded that, the peace and quiet was welcome for a bit, especially as she wrestled with her feelings.

Jet and Sierra were her best friends, sure, but the fact they’d not even bothered to try and message her to tell her they weren’t dead left a sour taste in her mouth. Not to mention Jet coming back with a girl on his arm practically!

She knew they weren’t dating, and she knew that was her fault – she’d called their night they spent together a mistake, and whilst Jet was a bit dense, he’d read it as most people would read that statement; that it had been a bad idea, and that being friends worked better. She wouldn’t blame him for that, but there had to be someone to blame for it!

Unfortunately, that someone was herself. There was nothing new there, she supposed. Just one more saga of her messing things up for everyone…

“Oh! Erm, sorry, I was just looking for the…”

“Eydis, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re Jet’s no.2, right? He told me all about you!” She beamed. God, did he have to find a girl this cheerful? She was going to get cavities talking to her! Not to mention pretty! Damn it, was this what being jealous felt like, she wondered. If it was, it was a horrible feeling!

“All good I hope?”

“He told me how good a friend you are, and that…”

“And that what…” She asked pointedly, dreading the answer.

“He regrets messing up your friendship.”

She sighed. “It wasn’t his fault, not really. I know he blames himself, but he does that for everything. If I wasn’t so bad at communicating, we wouldn’t be in this mess…”

“There’s still time, you know?”

“Maybe. The bar’s that a way, by the way.” She pointed towards the base bar, a pointed way of telling her that she wanted to be alone tonight, and most certainly not talking to her friend’s new girlfriend! No matter how nice she was!

“Oh, just a quick thing… I don’t think Alice will kill your friend, she’s honestly a nice girl, just a bit… err, intense, sometimes!”

Kureha stood there in abject confusion. What the heck was that girl on about? She was right, Alice was certainly a different breed of pilot – she reminded her of stories of chivalrous knights of the air in that regard – but why was Alice in such a position to want to kill any of… oh.

“Michael, you idiot!” She thought to herself, before someone sat down besides her. The man of the hour, she thought bitterly…

“So, I take it you’re still pissed off?”

“Go away.” She answered coldly.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” He admitted. “Zel’s already given me the nth degree over it, so I know I fucked up…”

“Worst thing is, you didn’t do anything wrong, not really.” She said bitterly. “You did exactly what you should’ve done in that situation… you moved on.”

“Oh, it’s about Eydis. I meant the disappearing and not telling you we were safe bit.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah, that. We did try, we tried to send a radio message out to you guys. Hell, we nearly collided with an F-8 doing that.”

“Yeah, we heard. You all started a rumour going round, you know… the Ghosts of the Mists. Dead pilots flying around their last known location…”

“Oops.” He looked away guiltily. “In our defence, we didn’t intend to do that.”

“I figured that part. Just, not even a text message to say you were alive… I never gave up believing in you. Either of you.”

“Thanks, and for what it’s worth, as a group, we tried to send a message. Koharu tried to send, err, what’s-her-name… Asuna, a message. Didn’t go through. We kind of assumed that would be the same for all of us. That was why we resorted to the radio message.”

“Got through in the end though. Not to mention finding everyone there – especially her. I’d have thought Goldilocks back there would be forever indebted to you for that. Not trying to kill you.”

“Goldilocks?” He asked, trying to work out what she meant. “Wait, did you say trying to kill me?!”

“Oh yeah, you slept with her best friend. I think she’s mad.” She told him matter of factly. Some might have said it was a rather large understatement to say that someone threatening to kill someone was “a bit mad”, in the same way as falling from a cliff was “a bit of a drop”, but she was sticking with the description…

“I mean, I didn’t, but sure. I can see how you got that impression from what Eydis said.”

“I’m not even gonna ask what happened instead, you know.” She laughed. It was absolutely his style to end up in this situation, so she should’ve expected it. Still, even if he was no longer on the market, as it were, it didn’t stop her being his friend, she supposed.

Did it feel a lot like a consolation prize? Yes.

Did she know he needed all the friends he could get? Also yes.

“Just one thing before you go, and I say this as your best friend… don’t you dare break that girl’s heart. Else it won’t be Alice you have to answer to, it’ll be me… and you’ve seen me angry.”

“Eep.” He gulped, and she burst into laughter.

“Oh, that look was priceless. Shame I didn’t have a camera!” He rolled his eyes and smiled, before they both looked in through the window of the bar to the unfolding scene of Eydis challenging Alice to what could only described as a contest to finish a tray of shots first… “You really do pick them, don’t you?” She laughed under her breath as Eydis went through shots faster than the guns on her plane… “I mean, I talked to her earlier. If she were any sweeter, I’d have cavities! Still, she deserves to be happy, and if that’s with you, then I’m happy for you both. Now go and stop her from drinking the squadron under!”

“Yes, ma’am!” He made a saluting gesture before he made to head off. “Oh, and ‘Reha? You were a brilliant captain, by the way.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Freedom Fighters

"All aircraft, scramble!" 

Those were the words that Sortiliena had been dreading. 

An all-aircraft scramble meant that the Belkans were throwing everything at them - fighters, bombers, you name it, chances are it would be there. 

The Rectan Liberation Air Force had grown since the players had joined them; almost tripling in size overnight according to Fanatio, their Captain. 

By today though? They were the smallest they'd ever been. At their homebase were only ten aircraft left; not all of them with pilots to fly them, and all of them hopelessly outmatched by a far superior opponent and far superior technology. 

She'd heard Raios claim that their MIGs were easy prey to a competent pilot, let alone a skilled one such as himself (his words, not hers – especially as she refused to even call him a competent pilot.). Perhaps in a one-on-one duel, he may have had a point, but when twelve MIG-17s swarm a flight of only two F-86s from an advantageous position... 

She tried her hardest to forget the panicked cries for help that both pilots had screamed in their final moments, as 23- and 37-millimetre shells ripped through both planes and pilots. If she didn't, and those memories slipped through, then she struggled to concentrate on anything but those screams... 

Those screams would haunt her nightmares, and the worst part was that they were neither the first, nor did she doubt they would be the last. 

"Thirty-one, starting up." She announced, flipping switches to start up her aircraft. The J33 engine of her fighter began to roar to life, whilst she armed her machine guns and set the flaps to take-off configuration. A quick waggle of the control stick allowed her to check her control surfaces were unlocked, and she was ready to go.

Despite the ten aircraft based there, only seven could generally be described as combat ready, and only three could be considered reasonable frontline aircraft, the rest were either obsolete, or missing some major component of their weapons systems.

"Twenty-seven, starting up." 

"Ten, ready to go." 

Herself, Renly and Eydis were the only three recruits left from their group, their ancient aircraft desperately stressed to their breaking points... sometimes literally, as had happened to Linel and Fizel, two of the youngest recruits who were wiped out when their T-33's wing had snapped off during a turn, whilst being chased by a Belkan MIG-19... 

Neither of them had survived the resulting crash.

Just two more names to add to the “the list”.

Their replacements were two pilots that had joined them from their last base at Casa Blanc after its destruction last week; a short, brown-haired girl, LLENN and the mysterious "Pitohui", a woman who'd adopted her moniker as her name. 

Both flew ex-Belkan Air Force MIG-17s, painted into their own colours - LLENN's a garish pink, with a pair of bunny ears painted under the cockpit, whilst Pitohui's was slightly more sensible... in that it was mostly gloss black at a first glance. That all fell apart when you looked at the underside, painted in varying shades of red, orange and yellow, like the bird she was named after... 

Which left only their captains, a woman named Fanatio, and a man named Deusolbert. Unsurprisingly, their aircraft were the best of the bad bunch, Fanatio having acquired an early model MIG-21F at some point, and painted the nose and vertical fin purple, whilst Deusolbert’s aircraft was an F-102 Delta Dagger, easily the most capable of what was left in the fight, with various parts painted in red. 

The base, Peniscola, was only barely functioning as an airbase anymore, and was the last vestige of an air force that had given the Belkans cause for concern. It was filled with the wrecks of the aircraft they'd lost, and the lives lost of with them. She had no idea how many people had been at the bases at Revar and Tamar, but she knew that the number of survivors was only in single digits from each... 

"Ten, I'm airborne." Eydis’s F-80 climbed into the early morning sky, as she made to gain as much energy as possible in the short time. Both captains had been airborne a few minutes ago, whilst the Shooting Stars spluttered to life, the aging aircraft deciding the least convenient time to be geriatric!

"Twenty-seven, climbing out." Renly told them, as she watched the second F-80 climb into the early morning sky ahead of her.

As she opened the throttle, she noticed a quartet of contrails to her eleven o’clock, with an additional pair ahead of the four… "Thirty-one, I see something..." She called, realising immediately as she spoke those words exactly what those contrails were… “All aircraft, break!”

That call came far too late, as the second Shooting Star disappeared from view, first engulfed in a fireball, then reduced to nothing but a cloud of shrapnel, fuel and fuel vapours, before the remaining confetti that had once been a plane fell gently to earth... 

"Wh-what was that?" Eydis stammered, desperately trying to calm herself down. 

"Granite Team, these are the last of them. Kill the dogs!"

In the distance, those four contrails had become dots, the aircraft generating them now visible. She’d heard rumours of Granite Team, a group of enemy aces whose sole purpose was to hunt down pilots who defected.

"All remaining aircraft, turn to 050, and run!" Deusolbert called out. "We'll hold them back, buy the young blood time to escape!" 

"We're not going to-" Eydis began to raise an objection but was soon shut down.

"Ten, you heard him. Fall back and regroup." Fanatio ordered. 

“Thirty-one, understood. Godspeed ma’am.” She responded.

“Where the hell are Pito and LLENN! Don’t tell me they’ve left us to die up here!” Eydis shouted angrily as they turned to the heading given.

“Eydis, calm down. We need to get out of here.”

“Y-yeah, I know. You reckon that…”

“Right now, I’m not reckoning on anything. We’ve survived this long here; we’ll survive this too!”

“I-yeah. Okay, I’m good now. Sorry. Head’s in the game now.”

“Good, because we’ve got company!”

From her five o’clock, a quartet of MIG-17s were escorting a flight of Il-28 bombers, no doubt on a mission to wipe their base from the face of the Earth. Somehow, the MIG pilots hadn’t spotted them despite their superior position, and every opportunity to completely obliterate the Rectan Air Force here and now.

She thought to herself about looking gift horses in the mouth and said a silent prayer to any deity listening that those MIGs didn’t spot the two Shooting Stars as they skimmed over the city. Perhaps, in any other circumstances, she reckoned they could’ve bloodied the Belkans’ noses before they did any major damage, but today was a day where retreat was their only option…

/-/

That had been nearly a month ago now though, and in that time, Sortiliena, along with the rest of the remnants of the Rectan Air Force had been inducted into the Osean Air Force, following the events of Avalon, where the Command had decided they had been critical to the success of the day, and forcing the Belkans to prioritise defending every inch of their new lands, rather than trying to take any more.

The situation on the ground had become very stagnant, leading to something she’d hoped never to see in her lifetime – trench warfare. The lands towards the lakes had become a system of trenches, fortified beyond belief against any kind of land push, whilst a ridiculous system of SAMs, triple-A positions, and radar pickets had been set up to ensure any excursion into the area would be costly for the Oseans.

Not to mention the frequent air patrols that had a habit of sweeping into the border and harassing the few unlucky troops stationed there. She knew that several of the 23^rd Fighter Squadron – their sister squadron at Canaveral – were already aces from those fighter sweeps alone, whilst others still had been present for not only the Battle of Avalon, but the Fall of Rechlin and the air battle that entailed had turned them into possibly the first aces of the war.

Today’s mission though was nothing quite as drastic; a simple training exercise to get them familiarised with standard operating procedures in the OADF, and to foster a working relationship with other squadrons.

To that end, they’d been given the task to engage in a four-on-four dogfight, with a flight from the 23^rd Fighter Squadron – Samurai Flight.

“Liena?” Eydis called. “You there?” She called again, only finally shaking her out of her thoughts as they approached the range.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“Jeez, that’s all we need. A flight leader who’s gone squiffy…” To say she was far from impressed by the pink munchkin in a MIG’s comments would be an understatement…

“I have not “gone squiffy”, I just lost my awareness momentarily. I am fine now.” She told them in as stern a tone as she could manage. Being a flight leader was a new thing to her, and even after some surprisingly helpful tips from Eydis’s new boyfriend, and Cmdr. Heirlentz, she still had some anxiety surrounding it.

Fighting solo, or with a wing woman like Eydis, were very different things to fighting as an actual unit, she knew that much, and although she’d flown with Pito and LLENN before, both had very different standard practices to them, and neither followed instructions too well… or at all, come to think of it.

“Yeah, good. Remember, we need to win this one! For Recta, for our honour, for…” Pito began to go on a bit, and she considered hitting the mute button on her, before LLENN thankfully interrupted.

“Free drinks?” She asked.

“That too.” Pito agreed, and she sighed in frustration. Of course it would come down to that.

“Everyone, get ready. These Oseans have a lot more practice in their planes than we do ours, so they know a few more tricks…” She may have won an award for understatement with that one – they had only had their new planes for about two weeks, after Lisbeth, the mechanic at Canaveral had declared their planes as “condemned”, and that “the wings were one tight turn from snapping off” on her plane.

Eydis had gone with a Mirage V, a more multirole oriented choice than her two friends’ Mirage IIICs, whilst LLENN and Pito had “borrowed” the two commanders’ MIG-21s, and had Lisbeth make some… modifications to the weapons systems, to allow them to carry a far greater range of ordnance than before. She, on the other hand, had chosen something more… out of left field – the Saab JA 37 Viggen, a large single seat multirole fighter/striker with impressive STOL characteristics, being able to take off and land within only 500 metres.

She’d only read up on it afterwards and discovered that she’d chosen an aircraft that’s name translated to either Thunderbolt… or Tufted Duck. If anyone asked, she was sticking with the former.

Especially if Pito asked.

“I have them on radar. Remember, we aren’t to use BVR weapons here… Pito.”

“Why am I being singled out?” She asked, insulted by the statement. “Besides, I like to wait till I can see their faces anyway…”

“Range, 30 miles off our eleven o’clock. We’re above them.”

Two contrasting calls came at once: “Remember, win at all costs!” Pito said with the confidence of Napoleon Bonaparte… and quite possibly the height too, alongside the ego. 

“This is a training exercise, remember!” Eydis rebuked, already anticipating Pito’s… gung-ho habits.

“Range, ten miles. I have a visual on them!” Passing below them at eleven o’clock were a four-ship diamond formation, a single ocean blue F-8 leading the formation, whilst a pair of Phantoms made up the middle of the diamond, and a single F-1 strike fighter took up the rear.

“Samurai, you know the drill!”

“Caliburn Flight, engage!” She called out, though not before Pito and LLENN had broken formation anyway, much to her annoyance.

“Caliburn?” Asked Eydis, slightly confused by the new name. “Eh, good enough.” Knowing Eydis, she was shrugging her shoulders before throwing the Mirage V into a split-S to engage one of the “hostile” aircraft.

She looked about from her vantage point, before checking her radar scope. The Viggen had a rather advanced onboard computer, when compared to anything she’d flown before (though, considering she’d previously flown an F-80, a pocket calculator might have been considered an advanced computer by comparison…), and far from the image of grace she supposedly presented on the ground, there was a degree of fumbling with the Viggen’s avionics, as she tried to work out where Samurai Flight were in comparison to herself, whilst the battle raged on around her.

“Oh no you don’t!” She muttered to herself, as the F-8 began a climbing turn to approach her six. Still getting used to the far less agile Viggen’s performance, she pushed the plane into a diving turn, attempting to use her superior position, and far more powerful aircraft, to force the F-8 to fight in the vertical, somewhere she reckoned the Viggen could hold its own.

Unfortunately, the F-8’s pilot wasn’t playing ball, almost immediately recognised what she was attempting to do, and snapping the F-8 over into a dive to break away from the engagement for the moment…

Her radio crackled to life with three messages at once: “Dale, Fox Two!”, “Pitohui, guns!”, “Issin, Fox Two!” cried all three pilots, their voices drowning each other out.

“Confirmed kills. LLENN, Pitohui, Dale, leave the combat area.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Eydis groaned, frustrated at the bloody nose they’d just been given. “Liena, just us now. I’ve got the F-8, you spot them!”

Hm, maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought it’d be…

/-/

When Klein had seen the match up, he almost couldn’t believe his luck – their aircraft, whilst not superior per se, certainly had more advantages than the Rectan flight had.

Between the pair of Phantoms, they had a decent situational awareness, and his F-8 was almost as agile as the pair of MIG-21s, and considerably superior in terms of the Mirage 5 and Viggen, the latter of which being a good all-rounder, but a mediocre dogfighter, whilst the Mirage was more attack orientated, lacking a radar of any kind, but still carrying a decent armament in its twin IR guided missiles, and twin 30mm DEFA cannons.

For once, it was a relatively fair match up, that would come down to pilot skill above all else.

And it had.

Those two MIG pilots were clearly recent converts from the MIG-17, which could turn with the best, but was a poor choice to fight in the vertical, whilst the MIG-21s they flew were still agile… but trying to fly one as you would a MIG-17 would get you into a situation you didn’t want to be in – very quickly too, as the pink one had found out when Kunimittz and Harry One had got onto her tail, being pursued at speed by the second MIG, itself pursued by Issin.

That had taken three of the four aircraft out of the equation before anyone could really react and left the score surprisingly in their favour; three aircraft left on Samurai, for two of the Rectan chicks.

The Mirage had taken to trying to run down his Crusader, but being left in a nasty situation when it flew straight into a trap, being downed in a head-on pass by Issin, who’d taken the chance to fall back and snipe her with a simulated Sparrow shot.

Which left just one: the flight leader, Sortiliena, who had been able to evade his initial pass, but had been left in an unenviable position, alone and outnumbered 3:1, and relying on only her own sensors and aircraft to keep her informed of their positions. “Boss, I can take her down.”

“Nah, no BVR shots.”

“I can see her from here, it’s not BVR!”

“Nah, he just wants-”

“That’s enough from you, Dale.” He immediately turned off the radio for a split second as he thought about how to tackle this. Sorteliena was clearly a good pilot, having countered him exactly as he would’ve done in her situation, but even a good pilot would struggle to survive in a three versus one fight for long.

It felt unsporting to just order Issin to fire a Sparrow shot at her, and force her to go evasive, straight into his path, but this was a simulation of an actual fight; the Belkans wouldn’t go easy on her and if they were using this tactic themselves, then familiarising them with such a tactic would be the smart thing to do.

“Issin, lock her up and fire.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

The Viggen had a surprisingly advanced countermeasures suite; flares, chaff and ECM all being part of its onboard countermeasures, so evading an earlier model Sparrow should be child’s play for an experienced pilot such as herself, but then, he wasn’t planning on taking her down with the Sparrow.

He’d looked at the strategies of several Belkan ace teams, and one in particular showed up quite often; one he called “Apex Chicken”. A trailing aircraft, usually the number two in the flight, would fire off a pair of AA-7 Apex radar guided missiles, intended to miss the target, but come close enough to force the defender to break into the path of the leader.

“Issin, Fox One.” He waited the few seconds of flight time that would be required for the Sparrow to approach her aircraft, before he began his part of the plan.

“No go, Issin. Missile trashed.”

He pushed the throttles forward and attempted to use the F-8 as as close of an analogue to the MIG-23s they were likely to face as possible – that meant hitting fast, and getting out of the way just as fast, before coming in from a different angle. In any other situation, the F-8 would’ve been a poor analogue for the MIG, the F-8 being an agile dogfighter of an aircraft, whilst the MIG was closer to a drag racer in the air; extremely fast, but almost incapable of making a turn at speed.

“Ronin, volley two, Fox One, Fox Two.” He called as he simulated the launch of a pair of Sidewinders, one radar guided Charlie, and one IR guided Delta.

“Ronin, confirmed kill. Fight’s off.” Despite her best efforts, at least one of the Sidewinders would’ve scored a hit on her, and for the first time in about five minutes, Klein felt himself breathe easily.

“Ronin, Sortiliena. Good job out there.” Despite losing that fight, they had put up a pretty good show for pilots very inexperienced in their new mounts, especially given they’d gone from a flight of straight winged Shooting Stars and subsonic MIG-17s, to Mach 2 interceptors and fighter-bombers with no intermediate steps and deserved some praise for actually succeeding in downing Dale, despite the odds.

“Thank you. Not good enough though, clearly.”

“We’ve had months of practice now and actual combat in these, you’ve had two weeks of academics. Not a fair comparison, ya know?”

“Yes, I suppose it isn’t, in that context. Thank you”

“All aircraft, fight’s off. Return to base for debriefing.” He wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but he expected there to be a frosty reception between the two flights once they landed…

/-/

Sortiliena wasn’t one to sulk usually – after all, every loss was a lesson to be learned. An opportunity to study where you’d gone wrong and build upon your skills to make sure that mistake or error didn’t happen again, as her parents had taught her.

Or that was what she told herself, anyway. She wasn’t sulking, just… taking a break from the rigours of command, and dealing with irritating, and obstinate subordinates!

She wasn’t one to sugar coat things; she knew she’d made some serious errors during that fight, not least that she’d failed to actually command her flight and left them to their own devices. That had cost them dearly against a far more tactically sound adversary, and in the fight, it had been the reason that LLENN and Pito had been “shot down” as fast as they were.

Had she taken note of that failure immediately, she could have reigned Eydis in, before she’d attempted to take on Ronin, and been bounced by the Phantom in front.  

As it stood though, she hadn’t, and that had cost her the situational awareness she’d desperately needed in such an engagement. That lapse had allowed Samurai chance to reform, and re-strategise, and in the end, that had been the deciding factor in the engagement – that advanced sensors mean very little when you A) have no idea how to use them, and B) are too pre-occupied with trying to fly the plane, to use them.

All in all, she realised how utterly shambolic her performance as flight leader was. Had that been an actual engagement, she had no doubts that all four of them would’ve died before any of them really knew what was going on…

The thing with that was that she wasn’t annoyed by that; failures happen after all, and what Ronin had said was right, they were all fairly new to their aircraft. No, it was her flight’s attitude after they landed that had, for want of a better word, pissed her off.

Pito had been even more of a pain than usual, only in a different way – rather than her usual lack of social grace, mocking her for her failure, she’d been furious that she’d played chess with their lives; that she’d used them for bait (not true) and that she’d played them as sacrificial lambs (also not true), whilst she stayed in her ivory tower.

Exactly what the ivory tower was in that chess metaphor, she really wasn’t sure, but it hadn’t helped when LLENN had told her that, whilst Pito was being irrational, she had been a really poor flight leader out there, and that she needed to improve, else one or all of them would die at some point…

That had been worse to hear than Pito’s inane ramblings, at least she only barely understood the madwoman’s point, whilst LLENN had made her point so crystal clear that it was almost transparent!

Then there was Eydis. Although Eydis had made her best effort to defend her, it was clear she was disappointed in her; whether that was in her ability to actually command them as a coherent unit, or that she’d failed to notice the Phantom that got her, she really didn’t now.

All of which was why she was sat in a bar, drinking a glass of wine at 3pm. Had any of her family seen her now, she honestly couldn’t say how much of a disappointment she would be to them, for whatever – that she was drowning her sorrows at a single failure, or that she had failed in the first place.

Whilst she may have been busy drowning her sorrows, she hadn’t failed to notice the man sat next to her. Taller than her with a handsome face, spiky, almost crimson hair that was tied up with a bandana, he was giving her a funny look. “Would you mind not staring please, I have already had a bad day…” She asked, equal parts polite and frustrated.

“Huh, you’re Sortiliena then?” 

“I would ask how you know my name, but I suspect I do not wish to know.”

“It’s your callsign. Wasn’t really that hard to work out.”

“I suppose that makes you Ronin then.” She realised. “I apologise for that, you do sound somewhat different without a microphone, I have to admit.”

“Heh, no problem. Some guy comes up to you and starts chatting to you, I can see how you’d get the wrong impression. Name’s Klein, by the way. Ronin’s just a callsign.”

“Talking, I don’t mind, Klein. The staring, I could with less of though.”

“Ah, fair enough. Sorry about that.” Klein looked towards the bartender; a very tall African American man, who was currently washing a glass. “Agil, one of my usual please!” He then turned to look at her again. “And one, uhh…”

“A glass of red for me please. Put both on my tab, if you would.” She looked back to him. “I suppose I should honour the terms of our agreement, should I not?”

He looked genuinely clueless by the question, before asking one of his own. “Uhh, what agreement?”

“I believe my colleague made a bet with your flight that whoever won would be in receipt of free drinks?”

He looked blankly at her again. “Wasn’t us she made the bet with; I’d have known about it… I think.”

“You want me to take that drink off your tab now?” The bartender, Agil, smiled, although it was pretty obvious that he found the whole situation rather amusing, given that smile wasn’t far off a smirk…

“A Serlut honours her agreements… even if they turn out to be made up by an infuriating sadist.” She stated, before deflating slightly. “This really has not been a good day for me.”

“I guess your guys weren’t too happy about losing that dogfight, huh?” He asked, and she did her best to avoid snorting at the question.

“That would be an understatement. If one is to be believed, I am a queen in an ivory tower using my flight as pawns, if another is to be believed, I am a liability that will end in their demise. If the third is to be believed, I am a disappointment, though they did not say that.”

“Yeesh, they don’t mince their words, do they?” Klein gave a look of sympathy to her, as their drinks arrived – a pint of beer, and a glass of red wine, as ordered. “I get that feeling though, being annoyed at someone for costing them something.” He admitted, before continuing. “But then, being leader does mean making difficult decisions sometimes, and they’ll be the wrong ones at times. I guess the advantage I had is that we were all friends before this, so there’s a kind of trust between all of us.”

That time, she did snort. “Yes, I can’t imagine any circumstance where I would describe my flight as friends. I would barely describe them as friendly. Pitohui and LLENN are mercenaries, who were too concerned with their kill count in Recta, and I…” She thought back to that final air battle over Cor, where they had used the scramble as a decoy to allow themselves to escape unopposed and felt a rising anger at their actions then. Eydis had been right; they had left them to die!

“Umm, Sortiliena?” Klein asked, concern clear in his voice and on his face. “You hold that glass any tighter and it’ll shatter!” He attempted to lighten the mood, with surprising success.

“Y-yes, sorry. I was just reminded of our final mission over Cor.”

“Well, I guess how I learned to lead won’t be all that relevant if no one likes each other, but I can offer some pointers, if you really want?”

“It could be of use, yes.”

“I always think of it as whatever you ask someone else to do, you should be willing to do yourself if asked. If you aren’t willing to do it yourself, then you shouldn’t ask someone else to do it. I also showed my guys that I was willing to stay at the front, no matter how dangerous it got, and that I’d watch their backs as well as they watched mine.”

“Considering who I have on my flight, I feel like I should be watching my back.” She retorted, though she did agree with him. She would not follow someone who led from behind, so why should she lead from behind? “Though I understand the point.”

“Honestly though? The big thing is experience, and currently, I don’t think any of your flight have that in those planes. Those two merc chicks, LLENN and Pitohui, wasn’t it? Both of them fought like they were still flying MIG-17s, and that was what got them shot down. That one’s on them. The chick in the Mirage?”

“Eydis.”

“Eydis, she made a mistake in trying to chase after the first target she saw, but it wasn’t an unfixable one. In a real situation, her RWR would’ve gone crazy when Issin locked her up. You guys didn’t have that, so your guys were lacking situational awareness in that fight. Maybe you could’ve used the Viggen to a better advantage; launch hit and run attacks, maybe, but I’m not sure it would’ve made all the difference once we’d knocked the two mercs out…”

That had been a far more detailed analysis than even she’d been able to offer, and she knew how her flight flew! Still though, it allowed her to really think on their flaws as a unit, and work on ways to improve them; whether that was through training or through actual experience, she couldn’t say, but it would happen eventually.

Whilst she knew her silence was one to reflect on what was said, it was easy to see how Klein had taken it as her being upset by him, a complete stranger criticising her team as it were (even if all of his critiques were absolutely correct and justified) “I’m not saying you’re a bad leader, ya know, just an inexperienced one!” He quickly added, trying to escape a hole he was not in.

She found herself smiling at that as she took a sip of wine. Considering her initial impressions of him had been a complete lech, only interested in one thing, the fact he’d shown himself to be able to analyse a complex situation fairly had certainly proven her wrong on that one. “I understood, don’t worry. I should go and find my wing-woman, before she does anything too ridiculous, like…”

It was at that moment that she heard a speaker crackle into life, and for her wing-woman to get up on stage, her (clearly mortified) friend, Alice, next to her as she started to sing.

Actually, she was surprised that Eydis had such a pleasant singing voice. She’d attempted to play the drums at Cor, and it had resulted in the drums being thrown off a cliff, in a scene reminiscent of the old joke: Two drums and a cymbal fall off a cliff. Ba dum tiss.

“Like karaoke?” Klein asked, very clearly holding back laughter at the unfolding scene.

“Like karaoke, yes.” She replied, herself very amused at the scene.

Perhaps today hadn’t been a win for her, but it wasn’t a complete loss either. She’d learned some more about her abilities and where she needed to improve, alongside now having access to certain material, if Eydis ever tried to tease her about things…

She turned from the impromptu stage show that was Eydis to face Klein, who was currently watching her wing-woman in such a way as one might watch a car's headlights... if they happened to be a deer, anyway. “Oh, and Klein? It’s just Liena to my friends. Sortiliena is my callsign.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 – Storm Warning

The past two months had been rather boring.

Or at least, that was how Alice had viewed them – since the Battle of Avalon, there had been a massive rush to get the pilots of the Osean Air Force certified for everything, to ensure they wouldn't lose pilots and planes for truly ridiculous reasons… namely the same reasons that had led to the Battle of Avalon: navigation errors and running out of fuel.

The problem with that was that constant training flights over the past months were far from interesting, and for herself, Eugeo and Eydis, not even possible whilst Lisbeth attempted to fit their Mirages with in-flight refuelling capabilities, to avoid a situation where they would be forced to either fly five-minute missions - even with drop tanks equipped - or restricted to rear guard actions, where the Belkans rarely reached.

Eventually though, and after about a month of rebuilding the front end of Eydis's Mirage V multiple times over, she had worked out a way to integrate IFR capability into their Mirages too, and so, their craft went to be refitted to what Lisbeth had labelled "Mirage IIING" and "Mirage VNG" standards – "minor upgrades" to better enhance their performance, she'd told them.

In reality, they weren't so much minor upgrades, as complete overhauls of the aerodynamic properties that had made her fall in love with the Mirage series.

All three aircraft had been lengthened by a small amount, with a completely new set of avionics installed, and the rocket motor provision removed - not a major loss, she thought, as she'd never once considered using the SEPR boosters anyway. Not only had the airframe being lengthened, but all three craft now found themselves sporting a small set of canards above the intakes and a set of leading-edge root extensions, bringing the delta wing directly underneath the canards, to the lips of the intakes. The engine itself had also been changed; the ATAR 09B used on their IIICs and the ATAR 9C used on Eydis's Mirage 5 being swapped out for a more powerful ATAR 9K-50, equivalent to that used on the Mirage F1.

The only improvement Lisbeth hadn't been able to make was to integrate a fly-by-wire system onto the Mirage NGs they now flew, and for that, she was very grateful. The fly-by-wire system may have enhanced the Mirage's manoeuvrability statistics, but it also introduced a potential limiter into the aircraft – a computer that could decide when a maneuver was too much and override it.

She had once heard the fly-by-wire system of an airplane described as "A system that could make an average pilot into a superior one, but an excellent pilot into an inferior one." and as egotistical as it sounded, she believed she was an excellent pilot.

They all were, else they would not still be here.

Regardless of the modifications, it had been only three days ago when the three completed Mirages were handed back to them, and so, they could commence the IFR training, whilst everyone else underwent low level attack training.

Or that had been the plan, anyway.

Sadly for her, reality tended to ignore the most meticulous of plans, and operate under a logic of "whatever happens, happens.". It was a bit like Eydis in that way, now she thought of it…

Shortly after their Mirages had been handed back, Kirito had ordered everyone into a briefing to inform them of the situation, and what a situation it was, she thought! The Belkan Navy had been co-ordinating an exercise from the port of St. Calippo, in neutral Sapin, when one of their Quecksilber-class nuclear submarines, the Rot, had gone radio silent and disappeared from their sonar facilities, leading to a rush to find the submarine and its crew.

Luckily for the crew, but unluckily for everyone else, the sub had not sunk, but rather it had gone rogue. Belkan police had raided the captain's home and found a manifesto detailing his plan to end the war by launching a wave of nuclear missiles on the Osean capital. Needless to say, Osean command had been quite alarmed when they had learned about this development and ordered Task Force 8 to set sail into the Bay of Oured immediately.

Unfortunately, they had done exactly as asked… and sailed headfirst into a typhoon. At least according to Eydis's boyfriend's reports, they had, for some inexplicable reason, attempted to undertake flight operations in a typhoon too, with rather predictable results.

A lot of lost aircraft and pilots, rendering the Harrier very short staffed, and what few pilots had not been sent flying without the safety of an aircraft were, understandably, less than thrilled to be taking orders from the same people who had ordered everyone to their deaths…

It was for that reason that the 23rd was to be split into two groups:

Mercury Team, formed of Black Blade and Knight Flights were to assist in the hunt for the Rot, whilst Guardian Team, formed of the remaining flights would move to Oured to protect against any incoming cruise missiles that the Rot could launch.

As the flight was not a short one – around 2 hours each way – it had been decided that the aircraft would refuel mid-air en route to the operational area, something that none of them really had that much practice on (especially given the upgrades made to their Mirages, which had eaten into said training time…), but that was sadly a non-negotiable for this mission…

/-/

In-flight refuelling was one of those extremely precise tasks that required your full attention to avoid a catastrophe. It was also mind-numbingly tedious, as anything happening was very bad news, Kirito had decided.

"Black Blade Lead, approach the tanker at current speed and current heading."

In front of the Phantom, the ghost grey underside of the refuelling tanker came into view. The KC-135 was a large aircraft that greatly resembled the Boeing 707s they occasionally spotted during their missions, only with a slightly fatter fuselage and a refuelling boom extending from the underside.

"Opening the hatch, keep 'er steady."

"200 feet." The boom operator announced, watching his distance to the Stratotanker. "100 feet". Just a little further… "Stabilise." He pulled the throttles back slightly and felt the reduction in acceleration as the Phantom stabilised. "Boom extending."

A dull thump shook the aircraft as the boom took its position inside the receptacle on the Phantom's spine, and fuel transfer commenced. "Fuel gauge is goin' up nicely."

Refuelling didn't take long – only around a minute or so to top up their tanks for the rest of the mission – but that minute felt like one of the longest yet, as he ensured the Phantom, now only metres from the KC-135 didn't do anything erratic whilst caught in the bigger jet's wake, whilst Argo made sure the fuel pressure didn't drop from the backseat.

"Black Blade Lead, fuel transfer complete. Retracting boom." The boom came away from the aircraft with only a small vapour trail behind it, the residual fuel falling off as the boom retracted, much like a hose dripped when it was turned off.

"Black Blade Lead, we're fuelled up. Heading to rendezvous point."

/-/

It had taken another thirty minutes before their group had regrouped after refuelling, but approaching the carrier, it became clear just how short-handed the Harrier was now. The supercarrier, once a floating fortress home to at least ten squadrons of various aircraft, from their friends' fighters to airborne early warning E-2 Hawkeyes, and most importantly for today, submarine hunting S-3 Vikings, was almost empty on the flight deck, despite having only a single airplane in the sky – an E-2 Hawkeye, callsign Overwatch, and it was clear to even an untrained observer that the ship was nowhere near combat capable anymore.

Exactly what the Command was thinking with this, Kirito couldn't say. Whatever it was though, he was sure it wasn't what reality had in mind.

"Seeker, we're on the deck." The S-3 pilot called, though sounding suspiciously like the flight leader of VF-24… a British accent was really hard to hide, even amongst people of many nationalities.

"Seeker, we're hooking you up now. Prepare for launch."

"Overwatch, this is Black Blade Lead. We're approaching your combat area from the west. Heading 090."

"Black Blade, Knight, good to have you onboard for this one. The sub hunter is taking off now, callsign is Seeker." The Hawkeye informed them, before moving into briefing mode. "Here's the situation so far: We've narrowed down the location of the Rot to within 50 square miles off the mouth of the Futuro Canal and will conduct the search in that area. Black Blade, Knight, conduct aerial sweeps, and shoot down any hostile aircraft you encounter. Seeker, stay on mission at all costs. Once the sub is located, attack it with whatever's left onboard. Mines, depth charges, the works. Viper and Idol Flight, you guys can follow Solitaire once they're in the search pattern."

"Solitaire?" Koharu asked, trying to work out where in the briefing they came into it. Maybe he was right, maybe they were in charge of the Viking… for some reason.

"Yeah, we wanted to just use Solitaire, but nope, we're Seeker whilst flying this."

"Seeker, you're cleared to launch. Good hunting." The flight deck informed them, and they watched the stubby S-3 get catapulted from the flight deck. Despite the larger craft's less… aerodynamic properties, it showed just how powerful the steam catapults really were on the carrier that the 20-ton, twin engined sub hunter could be fired off a carrier like it weighed next to nothing…

"Seeker's airborne, we're changing course to start the search."

"Understood Seeker. Black Blades, Knights, bandits are approaching at heading 050, range forty miles. Turn to intercept."

"Roger."

"Those bandits are-" The radio went dead at that moment, as if the line had been forcibly disconnected. From his 3 o'clock, he saw an explosion in the distance, and suddenly, their radios burst back into life, with a flurry of chatter, very little of it making sense as everyone spoke over each other…

"Black Blade Lead, this is Six. I have several targets moving fast through the area, MIG-23s by the speed of them." Sinon called, and he grimaced. This was bad, the Belkans had been able to anticipate that they would be moving the task force into a position that rendered it vulnerable to strike, and no doubt those MIGs had been tasked with blinding the fleet by destroying its early warning capability…

"Crap, they'll be after us now. Itsuki, get that Crusader off the deck, and give us a hand, will ya?!"

"This is the Harrier, we're hit! We have cruise missiles in the air, and-agh!" The radio operator was shut off, before being replaced by someone else. "Seeker, abort the search! Head for Canaveral! Idol Flight, scramble!"

"Kirito, what do we do?"

"Kid, we'll follow your orders. Just tell us what to do." Bercouli told him, and he formed a plan in his head. It wasn't a great plan, but it was the best he could do with absolutely no advanced notice.

"Alice, Eugeo. Take Ronye and Tiese and deal with those Floggers before they shoot down Seeker. Sinon, Liena, you're our eyes now, so watch for any bandits, and tell us if you see what launched those cruise missiles. Koharu, Eydis, cover them if any more fighters show up, otherwise set up a barrier CAP. Anything that isn't us is hostile. Asuna, Bercouli, Fanatio, you're with us – we're gonna hunt down those cruise missile carriers."

"Black Blade Leader, this is Idol One, sir. My flight is just getting airborne, and we're ready for a fight!"

"Understood Idol. Focus on getting yourselves airborne and join up with Koharu and Eydis. They'll give you guys instructions once you're in the fight."

"Yes sir! Seeker, are you guys alright?"

"Just… rragh! Dandy!" Jet groaned, no doubt turning the Viking hard to avoid an R-23 missile from one of the Floggers.

"Try a bit harder, Belkans, that one almost hit us!" Sierra taunted, before an audible slap shut him up.

"Don't encourage the bad guys! Going radio silent, see you all on the other side!" Kureha closed off radio transmissions for the moment, as the Viking threw itself around to evade the Floggers.

"Kirito, we have more aircraft incoming. Subsonic, large returns at one hundred and eighty miles – I'd say bombers. Vector 040 for a head on interception."

"Understood Sinon, we're moving to intercept."

As the battle began to heat up, Kirito noticed it split into almost three separate engagements:

The first was at low level, almost at wave height where Alice, Eugeo, Ronye and Tiese were running down the MIG-23s attempting to shoot down Seeker (who themselves gave the MIG-23s headaches by doing something the Flogger couldn't do… they turned.).

The second was approaching medium altitude, where they rushed to hunt down the incoming bombers, and no doubt the bombers escorts, whilst Idol flight, Koharu and Eydis joined together to form a defensive barrier against any escorts that got through.

The final fight was at higher altitude, above 40,000ft, where Sinon and Liena had formed their own defensive perimeter, using the superior radars of their more advanced aircraft to provide a detailed picture of the battlefield, before throwing medium range Skyflash missiles at anything unlucky enough to be nearby…

"Hah! One Flogger is down." Alice called amidst their fight, interrupted by…

"Tiese, he's… nope! Eight, I have a kill!"

"Koharu, he's heading back to you!" Eydis called out, as an unlucky Flogger was bounced by the barrier CAP.

"Not for long! Blade Three, Fox Two!"

"Blade Three, Knight Two, Idol – you have more bandits moving to attack. Signatures consistent with naval strike aircraft at 050. Range is forty miles from your position, altitude at ten thousand."

"We're on them!" Eydis called back.

"Eugeo to all aircraft, Floggers are down. We're available to assist now."

"Ronye, Tiese, follow Seeker, and make sure they get to safety. Eugeo, Alice, assist Koharu, Eydis and Idol in defending the fleet."

"Jet to all Osean aircraft, negative. We're going after the sub." Kirito groaned into his mask at that one.

"Kirito, targets at 040 are Tu-16 Badgers. I'd expect them to be loaded with cruise missiles. Be on alert for launches."

"Ronye, Tiese, continue to cover Seeker whilst they attack the sub." He was glad Argo couldn't see his face back there, because it was not a happy one. Of course the slow, lumbering sub hunter would choose to stay in the fight… "Sinon, understood. Reckon you can give us a hand?"

"As if you have to ask…" She responded. "Radar lock. Sinon, Fox Three." Sinon's new aircraft was nothing short of staggering in terms of statistics alone; Mach 2.5 cruise, a radar that could detect targets up to 300 miles away and AIM-47 Falcon missiles that could hit a reasonably sized target at 100 miles away – exactly what the Tu-16 was.

It almost made the Phantom look a bit rubbish in comparison… almost.

He'd almost immediately realised the YF-108's Achilles' Heel though – it was utterly miserable in a turning fight, and not much use should the fight close to within around 10 miles, even with the four additional Sidewinders that Liz had managed to hastily integrate onto the YF-108.

Not that it mattered when you could turn an enemy into confetti at 100 miles with an AIM-47, before it even knew you existed.

In the extreme distance, he saw a very small puff of smoke appear and almost immediately disappear, no doubt a Badger that had learned that particular lesson.

"Sinon, target downed. Continue on vector 040, you'll be in pursuit of them."

"Could've done with a flight of those back at Cor…" Bercouli mused as the four-ship formation approached a point where their radars could reliably pick up the targets.

At that point, it was game over for the unescorted bombers, as long-range Sparrow shots scored home, before the others took their chance to tear up the formation of retreating missile carriers.

In the end, Kirito tallied up their scores for the day at three for himself & Argo, two each for Asuna, Fanatio and Bercouli, and one for Sinon; whilst the Belkans had scored a big, fat zero!

/-/

Back above the carrier group, the current situation was far from as cut and dry.

At low level, a flight of Buccaneer bombers and Sea Harrier FRS.1 fighters had begun their attacks, only to be pounced by the barrier CAP group, and Koharu had understood something… she really hated Sea Harriers!

They had almost every advantage possible – they were small, making them exceptionally difficult targets to hit, and when combined with that, their agility made them even more difficult opponents!

The stupid thrust vectoring trick they did was equally irritating too! She'd thought she'd lined up two clear shots, only for the stupid thing to zoom upwards like a spaceship, and force her back onto the defensive…

Luckily, it was them engaging the Harriers, and not Idol flight, who were apparently still relatively new, hence why they were being kept as backup. That wasn't to say they were unskilled – in fact, even she knew how skilled two of them were, working together almost as a perfect team to corral the bombers, whilst the other pair of aircraft were able to work around each other in such a way that she knew came from an implicit trust in their wingman.

"Idol Two, splash one bomber!" Wingwoman even.

Eugeo called out, interrupting her thoughts momentarily. "Koharu, you have a Harrier coming back towards you." Not for long she didn't! Throwing the Hunter into a tight turn to the left, she spotted the small grey fighter below her, and dove on it.

She'd already expended her missiles and didn't have much ammunition left in her quad cannons either – only around 60 rounds left across all four guns - but even if they ran out, they'd decided to keep the fight going until it was over!

The Sea Harrier pilot was evidently no novice either, having seen her, and yanked the smaller fighter into a diving spiral, where it could easily pull a tighter turn than her Hunter, and it was then that biology began to rear its ugly head, as she fought off a blackout from the high-G descent… only for her RWR to now decide to go off too!

By nothing short of pure luck, her recovery from the high-G dive had thrown off the Sidewinder launched by the Harrier, and she'd found herself at 6000 feet, in a slight descent coming out of the dive… with a Sea Harrier still following her!

Her Hunter was the better turn fighter, and she reckoned it had better energy retention than the smaller fighter, and though the Pegasus engine could put out more power than her Avon, it was mostly lost through the thrust vectoring used on the Harrier; something she didn't have to worry about on the Hunter.

Though she'd pulled out of the dive and had now thrown the Hunter back into a climb, the Harrier behind kept up with her. They really were glued to her tail, weren't they?

That thought was soon disrupted by the volley of 30mm cannon fire that pummelled her Hunter across the wings and tail, forcing the abrupt halt of the climb when every warning light in the cockpit came on, resembling the worst Christmas tree imaginable.

"Koharu, I'm hit." She announced, cranking her head round to check the damage to her plane – the wings were trailing all kinds of fluids, whilst the engine had already started to create a nasty vibration throughout the aircraft, its internal parts tearing themselves up as they struggled to keep going.

"Hah, Zephyr Two, I have one, they're-ack!" Behind her, the pursuing Harrier disappeared amidst a cloud of smoke, fire and shrapnel.

"Good riddance." Alice spoke coldly. "Alice, kill confirmed. Koharu, can you still fly?"

She quickly checked the instruments – the ones that hadn't simply failed alongside the engine, anyway – to an unpleasant realisation: she was going to have to bail out. "Nope, my engine's dead, and I'm fighting to keep the wings level as is."

"Understood. Head to the west and bail-out. All aircraft, I will stay with her. Ensure any prowling Harriers meet the same fate as their friend, should they try something…"

"Understood Alice. Best of luck, both of you."

She looked about the place, watching as jets zipped past them both, and Alice pulled alongside her, her golden Mirage providing at least a slightly more hopeful sight than her beaten and battered Hunter. The next call immediately took that sense of hopefulness… and threw it in the wastepaper basket. "Mein gott…"

"That didn't sound so good. How bad is it?"

"I will not lie, I am confused as to how you are still going, Koharu. There are more holes in your plane than a colander. I would suggest bailing out as soon as is possible."

She took one last look at her Hunter's cockpit, as sparks flew out of the gunsight, whilst the warning lights that had illuminated the cockpit all extinguished at once – a sign that the electrics were completely failed now. "O-okay, I'm bailing out."

"Godspeed."

She pulled the black and yellow handle above her head, and braced herself for what came next – being subjected to high winds, acceleration on par with a rocket launch, and a freefall into the cold waters of Oured Bay…

Only for nothing to happen.

Seconds passed by, and still nothing.

By ten seconds, she was convinced the seat had been powered by the electrics and had failed when the electrics had gone bang moments earlier. "Alice, my seat won't fire!" She called out, remembering one of very few things about flying her father had taught her – nothing good came from panicking.

His motto was as British as the plane she now flew – keep calm and carry on.

She did wonder if he'd ever considered how terrifying the idea of sitting on a possibly functioning rocket sled, whilst sitting in a definitely not functioning aircraft, as it fell towards the water with barely any controls left, and only 4500 feet left till a sudden impact with the water below, rather than anything that resembled a controlled ditching, was…

"Koharu, can you get out?" Alice asked, a rare moment of stress in her voice as she pulled the Mirage away to allow her some more space to get out.

It was by the far the least safe option, but at 3300 feet, she could probably escape safely with her parachute, and she did have a life vest on, which meant it was a better option than crashing into the frigid waters below. She pulled on the handle to open the canopy, and the canopy came open…

Before stopping at only about 30cm open, not even close enough to get out of with a life vest and parachute on!

It was in that moment – a moment she had dreaded since day one – that she realised how out of her depth she was. A silly child, desperately trying to please her father, making one mistake too far, a mistake that was now going to cost her the life she'd never got chance to live…

"Koharu?"

"My canopy won't open, it's jammed!"

"Hold steady, I have an idea." She wasn't sure on what Alice was doing, but the Mirage began to trail back, and… "I will try to take the canopy off with my cannons."

That… wouldn't work… would it?

She desperately thought of a reason it wouldn't, not wanting to be pulverised by a stray 30mm shell but realised that she really was out of options now. Even if she managed to ditch safely (unlikely given the waves forming below her), she would still be trapped in a sinking aircraft, unable to escape as it dragged her down below the waves with it.

She really did have nothing left to lose now - she was dead either way, and at least a stray cannon shell would be quicker than drowning in freezing cold waters.

"Firing." Alice called as a dull thud hit the port side intake, though no other shots came. "Schisse!"

"Alice?"

"I have no ammunition left. Koharu, I'm so sorry…"

"At least you tried, Alice. Don't be sorry for that!" She tried her best to comfort the girl in the last seconds, as she began to descend into view of the waters below. Far from the crystal blue waters she'd seen as a child, and comfortable, warm weather she'd been accustomed to, the Bay of Oured was a dark blue – almost black in certain areas – broken up by the white wash of the largest waves, the crests rising well above the smaller waves. She made one final call, her voice brave as she dropped below 500 feet… "Here goes nothing! Black Blade Three, I'm ditching."

She wasn't sure if there even was a checklist for ditching a Hawker Hunter, but if there was, she was sure it simply contained the word "don't" instead of any useful information, so she was making things up as she went along. She thought about lowering the flaps, but knowing the wing was already damaged, she didn't want to add asymmetric lift into her list of problems when the flaps came out on one wing, but not the other.

Landing gear was kept up, and she thought about trying close the canopy again, but came to the decision that, at least 30cm was better than nothing. If she could her life vest off, she could probably squeeze herself through that 30cm gap. If it was closed, and jammed in that position, she was as good as dead.

200 feet to go, and the tops of waves were now very clear to her, as she closed her eyes briefly, and took a deep breath.

When she reopened them, that had dropped to 100 feet, and she felt the waves start to push her up momentarily, before her wing dipped and she realised she was now a passenger as the laws of physics broke her plane up around her…

In the space of a second, she'd felt the impact with a wave which tore the wings off, before her head was slammed forward into the damaged gun sight and a torrent of water flooded into the cockpit through the open gap…

That was the last thing she knew before she lost consciousness; the water flooding in relentlessly as her plane sank below the waves…

/-/

One word had often been used to describe Alice, both in a complimentary and a derogatory way – that word was stoic. She was firmly in control of her emotions, as was befitting of an ace pilot. She acted upon them, but rarely displayed them if she could help it…

This was not one of those moments.

"Koharu!" She screamed, watching as the Hunter broke apart in the rough seas of the Bay of Oured. Within moments, the jet had been consumed by the waves and disappeared from any eyes above them. She hoped to see a yellow life preserver floating in the waves in the coming seconds…

She never did – just bits of light debris and clutter that had come off the jet when it broke apart.

"Alice to all aircraft. Koharu is down… she did not get out." She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, but she had never really prepared for the possibility that she would lose a friend in this game. Perhaps, rather arrogantly, she had assumed they were all too good to be shot down, or that they would find their way back to them.

After all, Koharu had already done that once, and so had Eydis.

"All aircraft, we've lost Koharu. No one else dies today! That is an order!" She'd never really heard Kirito angry – annoyed, perhaps, but no, that was not annoyance; that was fury.

"You heard the man. Knights, give them hell!"

"Idols, all bombers are down!" Idol Lead confirmed. "Sirs, we're running low on ammo now."

"Alice, head back to Oured. Eugeo, stay with her. Anyone else, head back if your fuel or weapons state is low." Kirito ordered.

In any other circumstance, she would have been livid at being sent back to base – she would have viewed it almost as punishment for failure – but today, she saw it for what it really was: sensible.

She no longer had any ammunition, and her fuel state was getting low too, so she was rapidly becoming a liability to the flight, rather than an asset, and in her current mental state, even she could understand her flight lead's reasoning that there was a non-zero chance she would overstretch herself, trying to fight a fight she would have no reason to be in.

"This is the captain of the OFS Harrier. All hands, abandon ship! I repeat, all hands, abandon ship!"

"Fucking Belkans!" She heard the womaniser call out angrily, as their ship began to list to port. "Kill our mothers whilst ya at it, why don't ya!"

"Sierra, shut up a moment." Jet, in a rare display of command for once, instructed his subordinate to be quiet. "We've dropped depth charges and mines in the area of the ship. At least one's hit home, we think. Alice, where did Koharu go down?"

"Why ask that!?"

"Because we still have search and rescue gear onboard!" He snapped back.

"Seeker, head towards Alice. Alice, belay that order to head back till Seeker has arrived."

"Understood Kirito. Seeker, what is your ETA?"

"Around two minutes."

Circling the area, Alice looked to the waves still, a vain hope that she'd surface, having somehow escaped the sinking Hunter. Even small debris that had appeared from the crash of the jet – tiny pieces of metal, barely the size of her hands, or pieces of paper from the cockpit – had been swept out of sight and under the waves in amidst the crashing waves.

"Err, cap? That water's awful down there. If she didn't get out when the plane crashed…" What went unsaid amongst all of them was just how awful a fate Koharu had likely suffered. No doubt all of them had been swimming at some point and felt as if they were struggling… the water she looked at was an impossible measurement worse.

Waves crashed down with such force that even the remaining ships were raised and lowered; such force that there was little hope of a person surviving for long in those conditions, let alone if they'd been dragged under with their sinking aircraft, as Koharu may well have been…

"Yeah, I can see that." Jet pointed out sombrely. "Doesn't mean it's completely hopeless though, and I will be damned if I don't do everything in my power to help! Zel, can you ready the air-sea rescue gear?"

"On it."

"Seeker, Alice, this is the OFS Umbra. How copy?"

"We read you, Umbra."

"We're beginning SAR operations, if your missing friend is nearby, we'll find them." The radioman in the Umbra sounded remarkably confident in something that was almost hopeless, she had to give him that much.

"Alice to OFS Umbra, you have my sincerest thanks."

"All part of the service, ma'am."

"Shit, we've got surface contacts – missile boats! Bastards must've used the chaos to get closer…" The American shouted into the air group's frequency.

"They just don't quit, do they?" She heard Kureha mutter, before the mild panic inside the S-3 really set in, to her. Not only had they lost their home with the newly created reef formerly known as the OFS Harrier, but they had lost friends too, and should these missile boats get close enough, there was a significant chance that they would not be the only ones lost on this day…

From her three o'clock, she spotted the F-9 Crusader approaching, before joining up in formation with her momentarily. "Viper to Alice, return to base. I shall continue the escort of my flight." Itsuki told her, and with a brief waggle of the wings, she turned Osmanthius for a return course to Oured.

"Understood. Solitaire… good luck and thank you."

"You can thank us on the ground. If we make it back, anyway." Sierra commented, and for once, she didn't detect the American's usual standard of flirting… they really were nervous, weren't they?

"This is Alice, I'm bingo fuel. Returning to Oured." She announced to the rest of the task force.

As she left the combat area, this time for real, she looked back out over the battlefield. A frenetic flurry of action tore through the skies above the remains of the fleet, the wounded ships billowing plumes of smoke above the fleet, well into their paths, whilst the few fully combat effective vessels moved to defensive stations.

Other ships moved to positions to assist the search and rescue operations for their fellow sailors, and below, she could faintly see the outline of the OFS Umbra, moving towards her previous position to attempt to look for Koharu.

Around the fleet, to her resigned horror, were hundreds, if not thousands of specks amongst the waves, the number of specks reducing every second, and even between the milliseconds she spent blinking.

Those specks were sailors, she'd realised, many having abandoned ship… but many had simply been blown overboard with the high force impact of the anti-ship missiles that had crippled their ships, or the residual winds they were all facing.

Moving further away, she turned her head in shame as the next volley of anti-ship missiles ploughed into a pair of destroyers towards the eastern side of the formation.

"All aircraft, this is the OFS Calliope. We're beginning surface action against those missile boats, so we'd advise you get out of the way, unless you want to dodge a missile volley!"

"Black Blade Lead to all aircraft, return to Oured at this time." Kirito called, to very little response from anyone. Most of their flights had already begun to return to Oured, and as such, only himself, Argo, Sinon and Liena had remained on station by now, their aircraft having significantly improved ranges over the essentially short ranged interceptors used by everyone else…

"Calliope, this is Seeker, we're marking targets for you now. All vessels, missiles are Styx type. Distance is around 20 miles to impact. Beginning ECM now." A loud thud came across the radio, no doubt a shell impacting the Viking. "Shit, we took a round, we're-" The chatter from the Viking ceased mid-sentence, and Alice closed her eyes and sighed, almost certain of what had happened. She hadn't really liked two of them, or got to know the others, but she knew that they were well liked otherwise. The only vague hope was that Eydis hadn't heard that call, or…

"Alice, they're gone, aren't they?" Of course she had. Had she done something to offend the universe or was it just one of those days were no matter what you did, it was never the right thing? Even if you saved a toddler or a puppy from certain death, the universe found a way to punish you…

She thought long and hard about her response but found that nothing useable came to mind; just sadness, and Eydis had seen enough of that, so her best friend espousing such philosophy was not likely to be helpful in the slightest. In the end, silence lingered across the airwaves.

As she left the area, the radio chatter became more pronounced again: ships telling each other of incoming missile threats, that countermeasures had been released… that they had been hit and were attempting to undertake damage control. She seriously thought about turning her radio off, a vain attempt to not be forced to listen helplessly to any more people die today – she had heard enough of that already.

/-/

The return flight to Oured had been a sobering affair.

With little radio chatter from everyone, it had been a long 45 minutes back to Oured. Long enough that Kirito had spent that time thinking about every single mistake he'd made during that mission, and it was a long list…

Had he changed the way he'd assigned everyone, would Koharu have survived?

Had he spent more time focussing on the battle, and less time bomber hunting, would the fleet still be afloat? Would a significant number of people still be alive, because they could potentially have taken out the missile boats whilst they were at range, if they were a bit closer to the fleet?

"Kii-bou, Oured at one o'clock."

Looking over the capital, he supposed that was one thing that hadn't gone disastrously wrong today at least – the submarine had no chance to get off its nuclear payload and turn the capital city to glass, and the people down there could sleep soundly in their beds not knowing how close to nuclear armageddon they had potentially come…

Except one thing stuck out to him amongst all of this, and it was one thing he'd struggled to rationalise about this whole thing – the submarine itself. It had been hit, yes, but if the captain was that desperate to end the war with a nuclear bang, then why hadn't he made any effort to attack them back… and why had the Belkan Navy known exactly where… oh.

Those bastards!

The whole thing had been a set up!

The entire task force had played straight into their hands. They'd come neatly into exactly the position the Belkans had wanted them, and been sunk almost exactly where the Belkans had wanted them. There never was a rogue submarine, he reckoned now – it was probably ordered to act as if it had gone rogue, in order to allow the Belkans some plausible deniability, and whilst they panicked over the "rogue submarine", the Belkan Navy went unwatched and able to set sail unopposed.

All they'd had to do was get into a position to launch air strikes on the already pre-occupied task force, and that they had done perfectly.

"Black Blade Lead to all aircraft, Oured's in sight." Argo called. "Oured Centre, this is Black Blade Flight. We're entering your airspace at 090 from the north, flight level 100. Requesting vectors towards the airbase."

"Oured Centre, Black Blade Flight, we have you at 090 from the north, flight level 100. Descend to 5000, continue on current vectors to the LANER VOR and watch for traffic outbound."

"Roger that, descending to 5000 and continuing on current heading to the LANER VOR, Black Blades."

After the long silence, Kirito was almost glad to be doing something again – civilian airspace was chaotic, even when compared to training exercises; everything coming and going, and with such frequency that anyone would struggle to keep up if they weren't completely on the ball, 100% of the time…

It was for that reason he knew he wasn't cut out to be an air traffic controller. "Argo, I need you watching out for traffic."

"Ya got it, Kii-bou."

"All aircraft, Black Blade Lead. Keep a watch for civilian aircraft at all times as we approach Oured." The last thing they needed was to lose another member of the squadron to a mid-air collision with an airliner…

"Understood kid." Bercouli responded. "DC-9 straight ahead at angels 1."

"Black Blade Lead to Oured Centre. Visual on traffic at twelve o'clock high, an Air Oured DC-9."

"Understood, Black Blade. Air Oured 163, traffic is behind and below you. They have visual on you."

This was going to be an even longer approach than usual, he realised as the DC-9 banked away above them…

/-/

Other than a few moments where they'd came slightly closer to civilian traffic than any of them would've liked – that Piper that had crossed into the airspace without warning had been an experience, as had the frantic response from the air traffic controller that had led to a DC-8 doing a break turn that was tight for their Phantom, let alone a 250 seat airliner – the approach had been relatively straightforward, and everyone had made it back to the tarmac at Hendon Airbase.

Once they'd gotten to the ground though, the sombre mood had really set in. Usually, after a mission, they'd have done one of two things – gone to the mess hall to eat or gone back to their bunks to sleep off the exhaustion.

Actually, the last one was usually what he did. Everyone else went to get food usually, but today, it seemed as if everyone had just disappeared once their aircraft were shut down. Even Argo, who'd usually stopped pretty close to himself or Asuna, had disappeared off somewhere, leaving just him stood on the flightline to finish his post-flight checks.

In fact, he'd finished them nearly an hour ago, but he was neither tired nor hungry, and so he'd taken the chance to just sit and ruminate on the day passed. Knowing what he knew now, he'd have completely changed the strategy he used – with scraps of paper, he'd mapped out what had happened again, and workshopped a better strategy. Sinon and Liena would've been free to focus on the bombers, whilst his element had assisted Idol, Eydis and Koharu in gaining and keeping air superiority above the fleet. With any luck, that would've given the attacking aircraft pause for thought.

It was at that point he caught a glance of an orange glow in the air, and a dull rumble approaching the airbase. What was that, he wondered, before getting a slightly better view… a burning S-3 Viking.

He offered a small fist pump of celebration at the fact they'd survived!

On second thoughts, maybe that jubilation was a little too early – the Viking looked to be more of a Viking funeral at this point, as flames poured from its number 2 engine and behind the aircraft, whilst oil and fluids added to the blowtorch effect it was currently giving off…

With what can only be described as a turn that was tight for a fighter, the sub hunter swung round towards the runway in a shallow dive. As he watched, it was worrying to him that he couldn't tell whether that was a rapid, but controlled descent… or it was just crashing instead.

His question soon got an answer as the S-3 contacted the runway – he refused to say that it touched down, rather saying that it slammed down instead, when asked later by Argo – the landing gear absorbing the brunt of the impact before collapsing and sending the sub hunter veering into a grass verge off the runway. Without thinking, he rushed over to the wreck…

By the time he'd sprinted over, the fire tenders had already begun to spray the Viking funeral that had once been an S-3 with foam, as its crew extricated themselves from the wrecked jet.

"Not one of your finer landings, cap." Sierra (possibly, it was hard to tell when everyone was covered in fire retardant foam) commented, as if they hadn't just trimmed the grass, and cremated the weeds… and their plane in the process.

Jet simply shrugged, a bit of foam coming off as he did so. "Any landing you can walk away from and all that…" The fact he looked as if he could barely put any weight on his left foot, suggested that saying was pretty apt… in proving his RIO's point.

Kureha, now resembling her aircraft's colour scheme (i.e. mostly white, with some pink where her hair was still visible from under the foam…) staggered out, followed quickly by Zeliska, before the Viking had disappeared under the combined mass of foam…

"I'm sticking to flying my own aircraft next time…" She grumbled, trying to wipe foam away from her face. Eventually, she'd managed to get enough away for a look of realisation to be visible on her face. "Wait… weren't our planes on the Harri-oh for…"

/-/

Even with the surprise safe (mostly – as Kureha had told Eydis, the only bit of them that hadn't returned was their dignity, as they'd had to be sprayed down with fire hoses to remove the foam…) return of Solitaire, and the small celebrations that had been had at that news, the mood that evening was still quite sober, and even the music being played in the mess reflected that, Kirito thought as he walked back out into the cold March air.

With Oured being coastal, there was a small sea breeze blowing, he'd noticed, but the storm had mostly died down by now, having battered the city for the past few days.

"Looks like the weather's dyin' down, huh. Typical." Bercouli shrugged. He'd always struggled with people, but Bercouli was… unusual, to say the least. The older man always seemed to have some pearls of wisdom to offer any of them, and he'd told them how he'd essentially been fighting battles for as long as he could remember, and given he remembered battles that occurred twenty years ago in Strangereal, he was almost certain that the man was an NPC.

Yet, looking at him, Kirito struggled to imagine the man wasn't another player like them – he was simply too human to not be.

"I'm guessin' you're still wonderin' if you could've done better, right, kid?" That was another reason he struggled to believe he was an NPC – he was far too perceptive for that. The man could read them all like books, but there was rarely any judgement from what he said.

In this case, he didn't answer, but the silence was telling.

"We walked into an ambush sir."

"I told you, stop calling me sir." He pointed out. That was yet another thing… the older man hated, no, despised formalities like that. "But yeah, we did. Not sure how I never clicked on that – especially given the name of that sub."

The name of the sub? What, "Rot"? He knew it meant "Red" in German (or Belkan here, he supposed), thanks to Eugeo giving him some lessons in German, but why was that relevant?

"Quecksilber-class, Rot. Means Mercury-class, Red." Bercouli explained. "Red Mercury. It was a hoax the Belkans came up with at the end of the last war to scare us into surrender – supposedly this super material that was undetectable by radar, sonar, eyes, you name it."

"It didn't exist then?" He asked, already pretty sure of the answer. If such a material did exist, there was no way it wouldn't be in use for almost everything!

"Nope, it was just a load of chemicals with a bit of broken glass and brush hair for good measures, thrown together in a lab somewhere in Sudentor." Bercouli took a sip of his drink. "Belkans must be laughin' their asses off that we fell for it twice. Still though, that ain't what's troublin' ya, is it?"

"How do you cope with all of this, sir?"

"Drink." Bercouli offered.

"Err, no thank you sir." He rejected as politely as he could.

"No, I mean drink. That's how I cope. I've lost far more friends than most people, and not all of them to the enemy. Honestly, you either live long enough to become a jaded and pickled old alcoholic leading a bunch of kids such as yerselves – no offence – or ya die young enough to be counted as a tragedy."

He thought about what was being said – Bercouli was a veteran of at least two wars, they knew that much, and despite his self-deprecation, he truly did seem to care for the people under his command, something that had no doubt bought him into contention with his superior officers at some point, but he wasn't wrong in what he said.

You either died young, or lived long enough to watch everyone else die young… Well, if he wasn't depressed before, he sure as hell was now!

"Thing is Kirito, I used to pride myself on getting the highest kill count when I was a wingman. Then when I became a leader, I routinely went off on my own. Then when I became a commander, I took every mission I could… and I made it out of all of them in one piece. Granted, not all my planes did, but I did. A lot of other people didn't though. I must've had twenty wingmen during the last war, and I can only remember a few of 'em now."

"So… what you're saying is that I should take a hands-off approach to all this?"

"Oh, dear god no, not unless ya want to become me!" Bercouli snorted. "And trust me, you don't want that – your liver and wallet will thank you immensely if you don't! No, I mean that… it's good that you're thinking about it. I never did, I was too pre-occupied with trying to make that number go higher, that I let people take bullets meant for me. I just assumed that I was meant to survive… then I actually started leading people, and I saw the people we were sending to die, whilst I just sat there. Kids like yourself, their whole lives before them… just gone, thrown into a steamroller practically. You want to be a good leader, Kirito?"

"Yes sir?"

"Stick up for your own guys. Put your foot down when someone throws you the dumbest mission they've got that'll get someone killed. Don't be me, in other words." The older man finished his drink and turned around. "Now, if I were you, I'd go and check on the rest of your lot. Nothing much'll be achieved by mopin' about, that much I can tell ya."

Most of them had kept to themselves, but he had realised that he hadn't seen Alice since they'd landed. No surprise there, he supposed – Koharu was her roommate, and other than Eugeo, the person in the squadron that she was closest to. He just hoped she was okay, but it wasn't as if him going and looking for her would do any good – he was arguably the worst person to talk to in times like these…

/-/

The base at Hendon was somewhat different when compared to Canaveral, or even Rechlin.

Both bases were a hive of activity usually, with aircraft coming and going at most hours of the day, people running around in a frenetic and choreographed dance that kept the base running smoothly, but Hendon wasn't like that.

If she was completely honest, she wondered if the base had been deactivated until recently, given how little activity seemed to be occurring around her. All of this would be an explanation for why she had found a dry patch on the grass bank at the end of Runway 05 and was sitting there watching the world pass by – it was calm, peaceful, and above all else, she was the only person around.

For that, she was thankful. After today, she wasn't too sure that she had it in her to deal with anyone tonight.

Much less that she had overheard some of the more senior officers discussing holding a wake in the mess for everyone that had been lost. She was certain that none of her flight would be attending, especially given the last one they had been present for following Operatic Society – all they had realised was how unpleasant such dos were on a good day…

Today was not a good day for any of them.

"Must be the evenin' of mopin' about, huh?" Either she was so far gone into her own little world that she had failed to spot the Commander walking up to her, or the man had simply appeared out of thin air… "First your flight lead, now yaself, lil' lady." Either way, he was now sat next to her.

"With all due respect sir, could you please leave? I would rather be alone tonight, if you do not mind."

"Will ya be saying that when you go to bed though?"

"And what, exactly, do you mean by that sir?" She asked, an edge to her voice bought to the top by the anger bubbling under the surface of her despair…

"Your friend, she bunked with you, didn't she? You reckon you'll be alright with her gone?"

"I…" She thought about the question for the briefest moment before anger overrode despair in her mind. "It is none of your business sir. Good evening." She said curtly as she picked herself up off the grass and walked off.

How dare he pry into her personal life, she thought to herself – how she felt was her own problem, not some jumped up veteran commander's problem! "Obnoxious, insolent, arrogant man…" She grumbled under her breath as she walked back up the tarmac near the flight line. On the ground next to her was a small stone, probably only about an inch across in dimensions, but a clear sign the base hadn't been used in a while before today; it was a substantial risk factor on an airbase to have stones lying about…

With little thought, she kicked the stone into the grass, where it would be less of a risk to anyone else. Unfortunately for her, she had never been much good at sports – and soccer even less so.

To quote Eugeo, she had an uncanny ability to hit everything but the goal and had the force behind her kicks to send it through most objects… the goalkeeper included.

Still though, it was only a stone, and it wasn't as if she was so poor at aiming as to miss the entire grass field next to her… "Oww…"

Of course.

Just… of course.

She sighed in frustration – the universe really was doing its level best to teach her a lesson today, wasn't it?

"Of course it would be you I run into." She grumbled under her breath. The first meeting with Eydis's boyfriend had been… a rather interesting affair.

The guy had been skittish at best, and downright willing to run away at worst; something she found strange given she hadn't said anything at that point. Needless to say, she had been rather annoyed, and had threatened him with a unique threat, should he make Eydis sad at any point…

Which he had done today, by nearly dying.

What the girl saw in him, she had no idea…

"Charming. Could you not try to score a penalty on my head in future, please?" He retorted, rubbing his temple.

"I was merely trying to remove a rock." She told him pointedly. "Do not assume I was aiming for you…"

"Good to know – if you are aiming for me, stand right in front of you then. I'll be safe there."

"What are you even doing our here anyway? I assumed that you and your flight would be the toast of the party…"

"A party full of self-aggrandizing, stuck-up knobs. Hard pass on that one, thanks." There was a serious degree of contempt in his voice at that one; a degree of which made sense after the past few days for them.

It had been the same, or equivalent, officers that had doomed the Task Force, so it made sense that one of the few surviving pilots would take a dim view on those officers, and an even dimmer view of them supposedly celebrating those they had lost.

It felt almost like an excuse to party to her, and whilst she would in no way downplay the loss they had suffered… she had lost a single friend; they had lost almost all of theirs with the loss of the Harrier. That atmosphere would no doubt infuriate anyone who still retained their humanity…

"At least we can agree on that one." She agreed. "Apologies, it has been one of those days."

The Englishman almost snorted. "Yup, no kidding there. One of those days I will be so glad to see the back of."

She supposed at least she was not the only one suffering tonight – misery loves company, after all, she had been told. "For earlier… thank you. At least you tried to do something, even though…"

"Don't mention it. We're all in this together, b'arn we?"

"I suppose so, yes." She thought about it (though what exactly a barn had to do with anything, she remained clueless…), before looking towards the items in his hands – a pencil, and a sketch pad. "I suppose that is why you are out here then?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Quieter out here. Plus, you know, didn't exactly want to finish this in front of everyone." She wondered briefly what he was drawing, if he wanted very few people to see it. Despite her thoughts going down a different path, he handed her the sketch pad and she could see why he hadn't wanted people to see the drawing – not because it was bad, or because it was explicit, but because it would raise questions she reckoned he would rather not answer.

Eydis had told her about Avalon, and that it was an open secret that Koharu had held more than a candle for her now boyfriend – she had even said that she felt a little bit guilty about that, especially given her intention was not to get into a relationship there, but Koharu had, at least to her knowledge, never said anything about it. Despite that, the two had had a few conversations about stuff, and even found sleeping atop one another on their first night there…

On the page in front of her was a sketch of Koharu, sitting there and smiling at them. The drawing itself was pretty good – far from photorealistic, but she was no art critic, so the specifics were not something she would comment on, and after today, just seeing her friend's likeness – even if it was in pencil format, rather than there in person – was enough to bring a smile to her face, and tears to her eyes.

"It's not great, I know, but…"

"We both know that is a lie." She told him bluntly. "This may be a strange request, but would you mind if I had that drawing once you have finished it?"

"Uhh, sure?" He answered, surprise and uncertainty in his voice. "Can't say anyone's ever wanted one of my drawings before. Kind of a strange feeling, honestly…"

"Would you mind if I looked through your other drawings?" She asked, and he paused.

He looked away slightly, as if he were thinking through a checklist of what was in there and whether it would be suitable for being shown to anyone, before turning back towards her. "Yeah, sure. Just don't think that was representative of all my work. Kind of a lightning in a bottle moment at Avalon, I think."

She flipped through the pages of sketches – many of them were relatively crude, in the sense that they were clearly done quite quickly, rather than having hours spent on them, but she would hardly say they were bad, as even the poorer ones were still far in excess of what she could produce!

That didn't seem to allay his fears though, as he watched her flipping through pages as if he were a school child who'd handed his teacher a piece of work that he was both proud of, and terrified to hand in simultaneously. "These are rather impressive, to be quite honest. I would not be so modest if I could draw like this…"

"I could give you some pointers, if you'd want?"

She thought about it – it would stop Eydis from worrying that she was going to "execute her boyfriend" (Eydis's words, not hers…), and she supposed it couldn't hurt to improve her art skills. Besides, maybe it would be a way of spending more time with Eydis and Eugeo, if he was willing to teach all three of them… "I would appreciate it, yes. Would you mind if Eydis and Eugeo joined us too… lord knows Eydis's art skills are-"

The fact he looked as if he'd just seen a ghost should've clued her in that she may have wanted to stop talking, if only to avoid incriminating herself further…

Her aforementioned friend stood there with a smile on her face. "My art skills are what, Alice?"

"Err…"

"I'm happy to see you two getting along though! No spoons being shoved in places!" Yes, she had threatened that, hadn't she? The fact that, not only was he wincing, but that she was wincing at her own threat, despite lacking the necessary equipment should've informed her that, perhaps, her threat had been a little too harsh…

Realising that the smile on Eydis's face was getting no smaller, and began to form into a smirk of kinds, she decided that now was her best opportunity to make a swift exit… "I think that I shall go and find Eugeo… he must be going mad with worry about me now." She said, her words coming out fast enough that it somewhat resembled the cannons on her Osmanthus!

As she walked off at a pace most would describe closer to running, she had only one thought…

Eydis was terrifying sometimes!

/-/

After another short walk around the perimeter of Hendon, although avoiding "Lover's corner", as she had christened the spot that Eydis and her boytoy were no doubt doing unspeakable things, Alice had made her way back towards the main bunking area.

By now though, it was almost midnight, and her anger, despair and the other swirling vortex of emotions she had felt upon landing had since been replaced by one feeling especially… exhaustion (and mild intoxication, possibly).

She was acutely aware of what a bad idea a fatigued pilot was; they were only one bad decision away from resting in a million pieces, and she did not even want to consider how terrible an idea a fatigued fighter pilot was!

This wasn't being tired though, she had quickly realised when her legs began to wobble underneath her – no, this was genuinely fatigue. The type of fatigue that did lead to unpredictability, that led to- "Alice! There you are!"

Had it been possible, Eugeo's call would have caused her to jump out of her skin. However, as such an event was not possible, she settled for merely jumping into the stratosphere instead.

"You dolt! Do you not realise how surprising that was?" She scolded him, though it was extremely half-hearted. She simply did not have it in her tonight to be genuinely angry at him, especially not for something that was no doubt well-meaning…

"I've been calling you for the past minute?"

"Oh." Just how fatigued was she to not notice that! "I… err, I apologise then. My mind must be elsewhere."

"It's fine, I was just a bit worried about you. It's not like you to go AWOL…"

"Today has been… rough." She said as if he was not in the same boat as she was. Whilst he was not as close to Koharu as she was, most of the 23rd were on at least friendly terms with each other, and thus far in the war, they had not really suffered a loss of life – a loss of property, yes, but not losing a friend as they had done today.

"Yeah, everyone's… well, Agil's done well out of it, at least." It was clear that he was looking for any positive from today, and that the bar was keeping in good stead was the only thing he could think of, was telling… "Are you okay, Alice?"

"I am-" She went to approach the tired old trope of denying anyone who could help her, before thinking better of it. "Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I'm not! Should I be? After all that happened today!" She ranted on, thankful that Eugeo would not think worse of her for this. "After all the lives thrown away for no reason, the losses we suffered! All because we blindly followed orders, without thinking through what was going on!"

"Feel a bit better?"

"A little, yes." She admitted, feeling her legs wobbling beneath her. "And now, my own body is deciding that I am too tired to even walk in a straight line! How fantastic!" The self-loathing sarcasm was coming out thick and fast, even she knew that much, and so did Eugeo, given he was now almost holding her up, a scene she would otherwise have considered embarrassing.

Strangely though, she almost felt reassured by this – knowing that someone was there to keep her standing when she came close to falling, the same boy she had grown up with and who had somehow always kept up with her, and kept her from doing something too ridiculous…

The same boy she was now looking at like a lovesick schoolgirl might look at a crush.

"Umm, Alice, are you drunk?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. Merely tired and emotional." She looked away, embarrassed by her starry-eyed imagining of her best friend as her partner. He was her best friend, the person she was closest to that was not blood-related, for goodness' sake…

Yet the fondness she felt for him was not the fondness she had previously felt for him – no, she knew exactly what this meant, and as he carried her, she thought about what could happen if this was just her being a bit out of it after a tipple, rather than anything else.

On the other side of the coin, this could be her best chance for a long time…

"Isn't that a synonym for drunk though?" Eugeo thought aloud, and she let out a snort of derision.

"I had a single glass of wine. I am hardly drunk..." She shrugged off his question.

"Says the girl who needs carrying…" Eugeo responded quickly – too quickly for her liking… Kirito really was a bad influence on him, she thought with a sense of amusement.

Rather than respond with a verbal jab of her own, she did something that both the metaphorical angel and demon on her shoulders were not expecting – she placed a kiss on his cheek. To be quite honest, she was not expecting that she would actually go through with that either and so she was more surprised than he was, quite possibly!

"Uhh, Alice, you are drunk, aren't you?" He asked, this time with a sense of concern in his voice.

"Perhaps." She answered. "But if that is what I needed to work up the courage to do this, then it was worth it…"

"Do what?" He asked, only to be cut off as her lips contacted his, and his eyes briefly became the size of dinner plates. Before either of them knew it, they were both leaning into the kiss, and for the first time today, she felt genuinely at ease.

Not trying to reassure herself that she would be alright, but certain of that fact as they separated.

Eugeo, on the other hand, seemed halfway between shocked and ecstatic, an almost dopey grin on his face, whilst his eyes were still the size of dinner plates as they had been earlier.

"Do that." She responded to his earlier question with a smile on her face. "I suppose my question now is whether or not that was a mistake?"

"Do you think it was?"

"No!" She told him, certain of her own emotions. "Do you though?"

"N-no! I mean, I didn't know you felt like that, but… I guess I hoped you did."

"So… what does this mean now then?" She had seen plenty of rom-coms in her life (the joys of being friends with Eydis, she supposed…), but they generally finished at the big kiss. Very few showed what happened immediately afterwards, other than some sappy declaration of love – something she was never too keen on sober, and with alcohol in her system, she was intent on keeping that feeling down…

"Umm, I'm not too sure actually." Eugeo admitted, and she realised that neither of them knew what they were doing here. Eydis had always been the most emotionally mature of them, and well… she would find a way to tell Eydis about this, but that was not going to be tonight!

Given she had worked up the courage to… not quite confess her love, but certainly make it obvious to even the densest of souls, she decided she had enough courage left in her to ask once more thing. "I… just tonight, would you stay with me?"

If Eugeo hadn't been blindsided by her kiss, he definitely was by that question, as in the following seconds, the only response she received was that of a series of coded blinks. Either that, or he was completely speechless by her request.

She supposed it was the latter, as she knew a small amount of Morse code, and all he was blinking out was "AAAAAAAAAAAA."

Probably an apt response, now she thought about it, given her response would probably have been identical.

"Y-yeah, I will." Eugeo smiled at her, clearly still processing what had happened, but with no unease at what she had asked him to do.

Almost as if by romcom logic, the familiar beeping of their HUDs went off – it was midnight, and Alice felt a small weight off her shoulders, knowing that the awful day that had preceded this one was gone, confined to history, and that today had at least started well, in the arms of her closest friend and now her partner…

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 – Thieves in the Night, pt.1

By the morning after the Battle of the Bay, the atmosphere at Hendon was one of palpable sadness. Not even when Rechlin had fell had there been such a response to a mission, Asuna thought to herself.

There was also an air of drunkenness that still lingered over the base, as people had spent the evening mourning their lost comrades – be they Air Force or Navy – and that had led to an almost surreal atmosphere that morning.

In the past thirty minutes that she'd been awake, she hadn't so much as heard another soul stirring on the base – no movements of aircraft, no early morning preparations, just… quiet. Even the birds seemed to respect the sombre mood, as the seagulls seemed eerily absent for once.

She looked around at the base - it was so quiet it could easily be mistaken for being abandoned, were it not for the wreck of the Viking still lying beside the runway, the still somewhat pristine looking planes parked up on the tarmac, and the fact it was still lit up like a Christmas tree – before looking at the aircraft of her flight lined up on the taxiway.

Despite having braced herself for losing a friend, especially after the Avalon Incident, it still felt like someone had taken a boot to her stomach repeatedly. She remembered losing her grandmother as a child, but this was different, she felt.

Losing someone to the passage of time was one thing but losing someone to what had been an obvious trap had left an extremely bitter taste in their mouths, and Argo, ever the diplomat, had them bluntly what she was going to do to Diavel when they made it back to Canaveral.

For the man's sake, she hoped he retired quietly… and ran as far away as he could. An angry Argo was possibly the most terrifying thing she'd seen yet – and she'd been nuked!

If she was honest though, the quiet had probably come from the fact that many of them hadn't gotten to sleep until the early hours of the morning anyway; either still awake from the mission prior or thinking about the disaster that it had been.

That quiet was soon broken by the noise of a horn – the horn used to gather everyone in case of a major announcement…

That was never good news, she knew that much.

/-/

After about ten minutes, everyone had gathered in the main command and control centre of the base, in various states of dress and tidiness. It was apparent that everyone had been drinking last night or had suffered a rather poor night from those who hadn't been drinking.

About the only two people who didn't look completely dishevelled and exhausted were Alice and Eugeo, who she'd noticed were noticeably more comfortable around each other now, even holding hands as subtly as was possible…

Good for them, she thought briefly, before turning her mind back to the task at hand.

Bercouli had gathered all of them; be they Black Blade, Samurai, Twilight, Solitaire, Idol or Knight flights, to explain what was going to happen now.

They had found Koharu's aircraft, though she was still listed as "Missing in Action", given her body wasn't found with the wreckage. Kirito, even in his tired state, had spared a moment to explain to her that the game didn't show the bodies of pilots who'd died, simply because, as real as ACES was… it also had to be age rated.

Showing amputated limbs, or dismembered people, in all that realism? Yeah, that would be going straight back to the development team for some cuts. She would've found that darkly amusing - a literal death game, full of the horrors of war was a-okay, but blood and limbs were a no-no – had it not been in the context of her deceased friend.

It meant they couldn't at least give her a proper funeral too, which left an even worse taste in her mouth, and no doubt she wasn't the first person to think that, and-was she holding Kirito's hand? And what was Bercouli saying now, she'd lost track…?

Re-joining the land of the living, she began to listen to what the Commander had to say next:

They had been officially removed from combat operations by the Osean Command, after the last mission, pending an investigation into what had happened, whilst VF-24 were officially stood down following the loss of the Harrier. Of course, that had gone down in a way that was akin to breaking wind in an elevator – badly, and everyone was beyond fuming, and they were calling for… well, they weren't calling for blood… yet, but they certainly weren't too willing to listen to Osean Command.

That was where Bercouli had come in – the man had pulled some strings with his knowledge of who's who in the command structure, and had put together a plan:

The Belkans were still sailing around the Bay of Oured, but a cruise missile strike by a flight of B-52s, and the coastal defences already in place had crippled the fleet as they'd attempted to break out of the bay and forced them to turn back towards a repair port at St. Calippo, where they were expected back by 12:30 tomorrow.

The plan was quite simple – sink the ships at sea, whilst another group struck St. Calippo to destroy the dock facilities.

Of course, in doing so, they were going completely against the instructions of their commanders, but one thing Asuna knew that they had all agreed on was that said commanders could go and insert their instructions somewhere uncomfortable – the American had said it far better than she could, but she wasn't planning on repeating what he'd said…

That wasn't the biggest problem though – that was obtaining any form of air cover. Given their numbers weren't exactly high on a good day, being able to put only twenty-eight aircraft into the fight, and when split across two completely separate missions, some two hundred miles apart… that meant only fourteen aircraft each, and not all of them were particularly well suited for the task; her Lightning would have only two minutes on station, and Tiese and Ronye would have the same problem too with their Drakens, and they had no IFR support for this mission either…

Not to mention that all of Solitaire, bar Itsuki, had no aircraft anymore – their planes being on the Harrier when it sank, and the Viking now a smouldering wreck besides the runway – which was a rather large problem, as it required a far greater level of skill to fly without an aircraft.

"Sir, I might have an idea…" She spoke up and with a nod from Bercouli, she took over the table. "St Calippo is too far for some of us to make it there and back safely, and over the fleet itself, we'd be torn to shreds as pure fighters, but that doesn't mean we can't keep the air defences busy elsewhere. There's a nuclear bomber base at Ruan Major, and we'd be able to keep an air patrol of at least fifteen minutes above them; that's a fifteen-minute window we can stop them from launching fighters…"

"That might just work." Bercouli agreed and drew a new arrow on the map. "Charlie element will maintain air superiority for the time needed for the strike package to get in and out of St Calippo."

"What about above the fleet?"

"The fleet is too far out for a QRA scramble to reach in time – most of the fighters based near there are old MIG-17s, and a few MIG-21s if we're really unlucky – and we did a pretty good job of knocking out their air wing too." Bercouli told them, drawing on a group of triangles, and a circle that showed the estimated fuel range of the MIGs. "And with any luck, we'll have destroyed them on the ground anyway."

"Still leaves us with the problem of having no air cover over the area though, especially if they start firing on us."

"I've been thinking about that – the Belkans are relying on GCI, aren't they? And without that GCI, well… we saw their performance at Rhinemartial, the only things that stood a chance of handling the incoming strikes was those already in the air."

"Hmm, so what are you suggesting?"

"I rigged up a pod on the Harrier, to use Cap's terms, I "bodged" an AN/ALQ-99 pod to act as a radio disrupter. It was crude, but I tested it on us – complete success, it made such a difference to situational awareness on the Harrier that they completely missed us making a simulated attack run… and that was with us telling them we were doing it." Sierra explained, and she noticed both Kureha and Jet wincing, as if they both knew exactly what he was suggesting… and neither of them liked it. "Send up an aircraft with that pod in each element, alongside an aircraft armed for SEAD, and we can escort ourselves practically. As long as Charlie keep the fighters busy, anyway…"

"How long would it take you to rig up two of those pods, Flight Lieutenant Gabriel?"

"A couple of hours each with some help. Can probably have them ready to go by midnight."

"Then get to it." Bercouli ordered. "Take whoever you need and get those pods ready ASAP."

"On it." Sierra saluted, and left the room with two of the members of Idol Flight in tow; a red haired girl and either a very short girl, or a worryingly young girl. Just how lax were the Osean Navy's standards, she wondered…

"Everyone else, get rested up and fed. We'll be doing this one overnight, and trust me, being tired is the last thing you want in that case."

/-/

The facilities at Hendon were not a patch on those at Canaveral, Kirito had decided as he found himself trying to sleep at 11am.

Sure, he had been asleep at 11am before; most people had at some points in their lives, and some spent more of their lives still being asleep that late than they did awake, but trying to drop off to sleep at that time was just difficult.

Especially when he had actually slept last night!

Granted, he'd found himself wondering where Eugeo had gone, but he'd assumed that he had been comforting Alice – God knows she needed it. Even last night, when he had been caught up in his own moping about the chains of command, and how hard it was to lose a friend to a decision he had potentially made, he had noticed that Alice wasn't herself.

She was always quiet, but outspoken (just one of many contradictions he'd noticed, thinking about it), but even from her radio communications, it sounded like she had had a part of her ripped out, a part of her that actually cared what was happening…

Never mind the fact that he'd unknowingly found himself comforting Asuna earlier, something he hadn't even realised he was doing until she had gone a similar shade of red to… Koharu's Hunter…

Oh great, he'd had to reopen that wound, hadn't he?

He couldn't tell you how he'd felt about their friend dying like that; anger, sadness, frustration, sorrow, hatred, all of them swirled around his mind like vortices off a wing. No matter what they did, it wouldn't bring her back, no, all they could do now was to get even.

And if that meant sinking the fleet that doomed so many, then that was a gamble he was alright with.

Or it would've been, if said mission didn't involve risking everyone's lives on. Unsanctioned and against all odds, in skies unknown, they were taking the fight to Belka.

Considering the fleet was damaged, and unlikely to put up much of a fight, he made that sound a lot more heroic than it really was, he thought.

Not that it helped him sleep any better, mind you. Still, based on the fact that he was certain that Eugeo was staring at the ceiling too as he tried to sleep, it was clear that neither of them was sleeping any time soon…

"Can't sleep either?" Kirito asked from the bottom bunk.

"Nope. I've counted that crack 65 times now, and I still can't sleep…" Eugeo sighed, resigned to not sleeping properly.

"I thought it was sheep, not building defects." He laughed a little.

"Eh?"

"You know, counting sheep to sleep." Kirito explained to a small chuckle from Eugeo.

"If there's any sheep on a military base, I'd be surprised."

"So would they, I think. There's a minefield around the perimeter." He joked, before he changed the topic. "Out of curiosity, where were you last night? Not to pry, but…"

"Ah, you noticed then?"

"Hard not to notice the empty bed."

"Alice-"

Kirito caught on immediately. Despite what Argo said, he wasn't so dense as to be utterly oblivious to everything going on around him – merely, he was easily distracted by everything going on around him. Too focused on the fighting side of things to pay attention to the human side of things.

And if Argo ever asked, that was his defence, and he was sticking with it!

"Ah, say no more. I won't tell Argo, don't worry."

"It's just… everything that happened last night. I'm still processing it."

Kirito knew better than to pry into someone else's personal life, but was it really prying when they were almost telling him to ask him about it? And why did that last sentence make him worry he was turning into Argo? "What happened last night, other than… you know."

"Alice got drunk, I found her wandering around, and... well, we slept together." Eugeo sighed.

Kirito found himself bolt upright faster than if he'd been launched off his own aircraft. They'd slept together?! Yeah, this one was never reaching Argo! "Wait, what!?"

"Not like that!" Ohh, he meant that he'd stayed with her. Still probably not something that should reach Argo either, but… "We are together now, though, so ummm…"

He groaned against the pillow. "Now she'll be insufferable…"

"Hey!"

"I meant Argo!" He countered. "She's been running a betting ring for the past three months…"

"Betting on what?" Based on the look of reservation on his friend's face, he wasn't sure just how much Eugeo wanted to know, so much as he felt obliged to know what was going on.

"Uhh… our love lives." He half-explained. "All of us."

"Of course she has." Eugeo seemed less than pleased by that discovery but kept exactly what he was thinking to himself. "What were the odds on us getting together… just out of curiosity?"

"I really can't say."

"Kirito…"

"About 250:1." He answered. Eugeo turned to face him, a completely deadpan look on his face, hiding whether he was angry or trying not to burst into laughter at the ridiculous odds… "It could be worse?" He attempted to comfort his friend.

"How?"

"The odds-on Asuna and I getting together are about 1500:1."

Given Eugeo suddenly burst into a laughing fit that nearly caused him to fall out of his bunk, he was fairly sure that had succeeded in comforting him.

Even if it had cost a small shred of dignity in the process.

/-/

Asuna had found something out, as she tried to sleep – sleeping in the middle of the day was hard.

After about two hours of tossing and turning ineffectually though, she had given up and gone for a walk instead, only to find herself outside the hangar where the required modifications were being made to their aircraft.

It was a hive of activity as NPCs rushed around, gathering parts from across the place, as heavy machinery roared under the rapid turnaround times needed and as the more niche parts needed for the modified ALQ-99 pods were being made by the group of players...

Even when she'd seen Lisbeth's workshop at the highest pace, it was nothing compared to this. She felt as if even just standing there would be getting in their way, let alone asking anyone what they were doing…

"Can I help you, ma'am?" The red-haired girl from earlier, asked.

"Oh, no, I was just taking a walk. I couldn't sleep, so…"

"Rain! Ask her if she wants to make herself useful, could with some extra hands over here!"

"Umm, could you…"

"So long as you tell me what to do, I don't mind." Asuna smiled. She wasn't the most technical person in the world, but she also wasn't someone who would ignore someone who needed help either, and considering they were critical in making the plan work, it wouldn't have been in her interests to just walk away either…

"Okay, so I just need you to hold that there with these, whilst I solder it." The American told her and handed her a pair of long nosed tweezers.

"Got it." She held the small cylinder in place, as the solder was placed onto the metal wires beside it. "Thank you for yesterday, by the way."

"Huh? Oh, all that. Should've known the Cap would do something daft like that."

"At least he tried, sir, what would you have done?" The red-haired girl, Rain, asked, though with a tone of accusation to her question.

"Oh please, he's my friend, but one day he's going to get us all killed by being a hero, Rain."

"What if she'd still been alive? Would you be so blasé then?" Asuna asked, interjecting on their conversation. "Or would you have taken the credit?"

"No, but it was pretty obvious from the way Blondie worded it that she wasn't." Blondie? Oh, he was referring to Alice. "If I'd thought there was a chance to save a life there, I wouldn't be annoyed at our fearless leader's hero complex."

"Weren't you taunting the Belkans yesterday, sir?" Rain reminded them. "Captain Jet might have a hero-complex, but-"

"Rain, it's alright. He's allowed his opinion, even if we don't agree with it." Asuna told her, and the American rolled his eyes.

"Think what you want about me, Flight Lieutenant, but someone needs to keep the idiot hero in check." He (incorrectly) reminded her of her rank, before he shrugged and finished soldering the cylinder in place. Given she had been promoted earlier in the day, it wasn't a surprise that he didn't know, but it was still wrong, regardless.

"Alright then, I think you're jealous. And it's Captain Yuuki now." Asuna wasn't usually the type to try and pull rank – it felt tacky, and nothing more than attempting to show off that you could put a new word in front of your name usually – but in this case, she made an exception. If he thought he was going to talk to her in the same way he talked down to Rain, then she would remind him they were (on paper) equals.

"Hah-agh!" The American tried to laugh, before unwittingly placing the soldering iron a little too close to his arm.

"Wouldn't be the first time you've been burnt by a lady." Asuna put on her best impression of a diplomat and tried not to laugh at his misfortune. She wasn't doing a very good job, given she was sniggering into her free hand.

The American grumbled something about insolent rookies, and the rest of the modifications went by in as close to silence as was manageable, amidst the grinding and sawing of the workshop. Eventually though, that work had been completed, and Asuna decided that she would be getting in the way if she stayed in the hangar, and so, she had decided to get some lunch instead.

"Umm, ma'am?" She hadn't noticed Rain following her out of the hangar, apparently.

"Oh, Rain."

"I'm really sorry about him, he's not usually that bad. Honestly, I was expecting him to try and hit on you, not… well, that. I don't think he took losing the Harrier too well… and Captain Jet deciding to go help one person over everyone else on the ship, well..."

Suddenly, a wave of reality that had been almost suspended above her head came crashing down. They had spent all that time trying to look for Koharu, and yet, their own comrades were still in danger.

"For what it's worth, ma'am? I think he made the right call – the Harrier had its own lifeboats, she didn't - but I can see why Captain Sierra isn't happy at him too."

"Rain, you don't have to call me ma'am – or them "captain" either. Their names work just as well." Asuna told her, before continuing their conversation. "But yes, I can see how that decision wouldn't go down too well."

She just hoped that unit cohesion wouldn't be a problem when the chips were down later – the last thing they needed was two people sniping pettily at each other, whilst the Belkans were literally sniping at them with anti-aircraft guns and missiles…

/-/

The next eight hours had passed by at a breakneck pace – from briefing to briefing, from checks on each aircraft to having to reload each aircraft manually, whilst Solitaire and Idol focused on getting the electronics equipment ready for the attack.

On the ground, it had almost looked like a disparate mess of aircraft – some loaded for air-to-air, some for air-to-ground, others for anti-shipping duties – but in the air, and formed up into their groups, it had resembled an actual strike force.

Not a large one, but still large enough to give the Belkans a really bad evening.

In addition, the weather over the Bay was still quite unpleasant, with low cloud cover proving a useful way of obscuring their approach against the black abyss that was the bay, and the slightly brighter void that was the night sky above them. The weather wasn't the only challenge they faced – nighttime flying was still a relatively new skill for some of them, and flying in cloud cover was rarely advisable, given the risk of becoming spatially disorientated in the horizonless void…

Still, the 40-minute trip across the bay had been uneventful, and they would soon be approaching the first waypoint… "Element Alpha, radio check." She asked and received callbacks from each of the element – consisting of her flight, Flash, Fanatio's flight, Knight, Ran's flight, Twilight and the makeshift flight of Alice, Eugeo and Itsuki, who went by their callsigns instead, and would prioritise clearing the airbase's airspace of potential threats instead, alongside dealing with any anti-aircraft defences on the way.

They had been briefed of what they needed to do on the ground, and despite the… clashes that she and Alice had had, she knew she could be trusted once she was up in the air.

"Good, is everyone clear on what must be done here? Keep their attention until the all-clear from Bravo and Charlie. Weapons free, all targets are hostile."

"Good, we owe the Belkans some payback!"

"All aircraft, you have bandits climbing out. Looks like they don't know we're here yet."

"Flash Two, Knight Two, weapons free." Asuna ordered. At this range, the Belkans stood little chance of understanding what was going on; let alone evading the missiles being fired on them. Those AIM-47s on Sinon's Crossbow, to quote Kirito, were broken – being able to kill a target at 50 was tough enough to defend against… 100 miles was beyond the horizon distance!

"Weiss Flight, wir haben Berichte über Osean-Schiffe, die sich der Flotte nähern. Verteidigt sie um jeden Preis, bis die Nimrods eintreffen ..."

"Verstanden, Weiss Flight, wenden sie sich an rubrik zehn." Static cut off the transmission, and the explosion in the night sky meant that Asuna knew that the fight had truly started then. They knew something was out there in the darkened night, and after the last stunt… Asuna felt a small degree of a vindictive streak come to the top. It would be her group that taught the Belkans why people were afraid of what lurked in the dark…

Especially when that darkness hid sixteen fighters, all armed to the teeth, and on the hunt for the Belkan Air Force and Fleet Air Division.

"Die Oseaner, das sind sie-" An unknown voice broadcast, before an explosion cut if off.

"Schisse! Machen sie Silber und Gelb startklar! Weibe, lass sie nicht in die nahe kommen!"

"Lead, they're readying more fighters." Ronye told her, translating the radio chatter for them. "I'd expect them to be here in two to three minutes!"

"You heard that, Alice? Get moving!"

"Knight Three, focus!"

"MIGs down low, 3 o'clock. I can see the burners." Tiese called out, before Asuna spotted her Draken breaking away, followed swiftly by Ronye's.

"Sinon, Liena, any more aircraft?"

"Two transports approaching, with comms chatter – patching it through."

"I think they're a VIP flight, ma'am. Apparently one General Richten is here to inspect the base. The other aircraft is carrying supplies and a valuable cargo."

As long as they weren't civilian, they were a target – and one such as the general and his cargo were a pretty big win for them, especially as it was a complete fluke! "Understood, Ronye. Pito, LLENN, engage the transports. Do not let them land!"

"How about landing vertically? And on fire?" Pito "asked" – in reality, she was going to shoot them down regardless, and at least this way, she could aim the woman's bloodlust somewhere… at a Belkan general, who probably deserved it, to be quite honest.

"Acceptable."

"Oh good. Time to go give the general our best wishes!" The pair of MIG-21s accelerated off into the distance, as Asuna looked down, a momentary glimpse of Eugeo's Mirage below her, the natural metal finish glinting against the night sky and the searchlights now lighting up the area.

"Schisse! We're being lit up down here."

"Hang tight, we'll deal with the searchlights!" Yuuki called out, and she briefly caught a glimpse of what she thought was the landing light of the younger girl's Sabre diving towards the deck and followed swiftly by the remaining members of Twilight.

"Much obliged, Twilight. We will cover you until then."

That left herself, Fanatio, Liena and Eydis to stand against the inevitable formation of aircraft that would soon be approaching them, with Sinon some way back and engaging with stand-off weapons. Five aircraft versus an entire formation…

"Ruan Major, sind noch flugzeuge frei? Wir werden heftig angegriffen!"

"Das 8 Geschwader ist unterwegs, Ruan Major. All von ihnen."

"Lead, this is Ronye, they've got a lot more fighters coming. A whole squadron of them." Taking a moment to really let the gravity of the situation set in, Asuna considered her options – fight or flight.

Fight to the very last missile, to the very last round, and if push came to shove, the very last bolt on her plane, or retreat, leaving an entire battalion of fighters to be only minutes away from the bombers…

That wasn't a choice at all – they would stand proud and protect their allies. At Rhinemartial, they had been the only ones mad enough to not question the orders to go in first and dismantle the air defence net, and at Avalon, they had been thrown into the furnace with little time to do anything else…

This would be like Avalon again, wouldn't it?

Asuna took a glance at the unit patch she had had Liz paint in Wind Fleuret's cockpit and remembered her brief Latin lessons to translate the text that had been applied: "Contra omnes dissident, in ignota caelum" … or "Against all odds, in heavens unknown".

Today, the odds were stacked well and truly against them – sixteen aircraft at most, versus easily forty or fifty, and that was assuming the others came back from their respective missions before the squadron reached them; if not, it was 5 versus 50.

10:1 odds, Asuna realised.

They were going to need a miracle, weren't they?

/-/

About two minutes earlier, and fifty miles to the north, a small force of strike fighters were approaching the mouth of the Bay. One of those aircraft was an almost spotless Panavia Tornado GR.1; its camouflage not even so much as scratched by errant sworf in a hangar. For Sierra, it had been a major change to, not only rig up the avionics on the Prowler, but also to then have get familiarised with the new avionics on their new aircraft.

The terrain following radar was amazing though, he'd decided that much as they flew over the Bay at only 100 feet, without so much as a gentle buffeting… "All 72nd aircraft, come in." Jet asked from the seat up front, as the radios burst to life as all aircraft of Element Charlie checked in on cue.

"Good, now everyone's here, we can start the party."

In the back seat of the Tornado, Sierra scanned the avionics to ready everything. With everyone else approaching low and fast, and with dumb bombs, there was no real chance for a second run – not least because the Belkan anti-air system would have kicked in by then, and he'd rather not have to have them make a second pass over a dockyard protected by enough triple-A to give Saddam Hussein a glimmer in his eyes…

Not when they could sit at range and snipe the systems instead. Much safer when the first warning that the anti-aircraft guns and missiles had that they were being targeted was when an ALARM landed in their laps…

"Cap, we're coming up on the last waypoint now." He told Jet, who gave a thumbs up to the mirror.

They had the easy job, he supposed – everyone else was going in fast and low, they just had to keep the air defences attention for long enough to give them a real bad time.

"Kureha, you ready?"

"We're ready, just… don't miss please?" Kureha asked, a tone of concern in her voice. He couldn't blame her; she was leading them into the open jaws of a lion… and it was their job to keep prodding things in its mouth, so they didn't realise what was going till it was too late for them to do anything much about it.

"Relax, we're like Amazon, remember?" He said, trying to lighten the mood.

"That doesn't fill me with confidence Cody…" He forgot that Momiji was, to use a term he'd heard Jet use about one of his sisters when he was in a foul mood, "a right grumpy mare" when she was stressed. For obvious reasons, he was not about to call Momiji that to her face… not when she was armed with a 20mm Vulcan and twenty-eight 500lb bombs.

He liked living, thank you very much.

"He means we're on time and we never miss." Jet responded. "I think. Either that, or he means we're about to commit some serious health & safety violations." He added, raising a small smirk off him. They were about to drop at least five anti-radiation missiles in their general direction, so a few OSHA violations were par for the course…

"Idol, you guys there?" Jet asked.

In the darkness, they were relying on the terrain following radar of the Tornado to ensure they didn't become fish food over the bay or get blown to bits by flying into a hill… though he had his doubts where a hill would come from in the middle of the sea. Idol, on the other hand, did not have the same terrain following radar and so they relied on them to not get lost over the black void that was the Bay of Oured. "We're about a minute behind you, sir."

"Understood, we'll start the fireworks then." Jet said, before turning to him. "Let's give them our welcoming present, shall we?"

"On it." He worked quickly to lock up the radars located on the northern docks, a process that was almost painless considering he had next to no experience with the hardware… "Gotcha. Solitaire Lead, Magnum."

The massive white missile dropped off the rail and shot away into the distance, climbing as it did so. They'd have an approximately thirty second window before the Belkans knew something was amiss – having one of your radars obliterated by a high-speed pylon that had dropped from 40,000 feet in a terminal dive tended to have that result.

"Solitaire Lead, Idol, this is Watchdog. Looks like their radars just lit up. They have you on radar."

"Oh good." He could almost see the feral grin on his friend's face, and for once, a sense of unease came over him. "Makes our job all the easier then."

"Anti-aircraft sites are coming online Cap, I think they know we're here."

"Good, as long as they know we're here and not the bombers, we're doing our job right."

In the middle distance, and atop a hill, the search radar exploded, no doubt hit by the ALARM they'd fired. One down, only a million more to go, he thought as he worked to lock up the next target – a medium-range SA-3 "Goa" battery (and cursed NATO's ability to make the most terrifying of things sound ridiculous with stupid reporting names) that would no doubt prove a problem on exfil for the bombers.

"One more target. Solitaire Lead, Magnum." For the second time that evening, the ALARM raced off into the twilight, its target marked for destruction. "Like shooting fish in a barrel…"

"Don't say that!" Jet scolded from the front seat. "You just know something will go wrong now…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He shrugged, before spotting something in the distance, the tell-tale sign of a missile launch. A big one at that… "Shit, they've got S-200s out here!"

"I hate being right!" He narrowed his eyes, as if to say how much he thought that statement was utter garbage, before working to activate the countermeasures, in case the S-200 was firing on them. As it wasn't, they quickly turned the Tornado back towards the smoke plume, and he worked to lock up the radar guiding the long-range missile…

"Ugh, can't you Brits make something that works?! Stupid radar isn't tracking…"

"Switching to guns."

"Eh?" He asked in surprise, before realising what was about to happen… "Oh no." He shrunk into his seat, realising there really was very little he could do now. His captain was about to do something very stupid, and he was along for the ride… again.

Approaching the missile launcher, the Tornado went into a steep dive, and for the second time in two days, Sierra wished he hadn't gotten out of bed this morning… dive bombing a long-range guided missile site that was no doubt protected by triple-A with only the 27mm cannons to kill it… "Solitaire Lead, guns." Jet called out, and the muzzle flash almost blinded both in the dimly lit Tornado…

"Yeesh…" He groaned, as they pulled out of the dive… remarkably free of bullet holes, to his pleasant surprise, and with an S-200 site in disarray at the sudden Wild Weasel strike. "Huh, we didn't die. Colour me shocked."

"Ol' ye of little faith…" Jet was grinning at that victory, no doubt… the smug bastard. "Solitaire Lead, one S-200 site down."

"Idol, we've hit the search radars at the south, the path is clear! Beginning ECM now!" The ECM they'd worked out was quite simple – rather than jamming the Belkan comms, they'd simply override them. Honestly, he thought it was a pretty good deal for the Belkans, if he were honest – the Belkans got a free concert from the girls out of it, and they got a clear path to blow them up, a win-win situation if ever there was one in his books.

Granted, the sound quality was rubbish – the EA-6B was an electronic warfare bird, not a microphone, after all – but there was a reason they'd gained the callsign Idol, and it wasn't because they sat around doing nothing all day…

/-/

Onboard the Prowler, Nautilus briefly wondered how his life had led him on this course – circling the bay of St. Calippo, broadcasting the greatest hits of the 1970s and 1980s, whilst Yuna and Seven were preparing their best DJ impressions to confuse the Belkans to no end, and allow for their bombers to sneak in somewhat undetected.

"Helllloooo, Belka!" Yuna called out, and he fine-tuned the radio jamming equipment as she did. "We've got a brilliant show for you today! So first up is Blondie, with One Way or Another!"

"Hans, was zur Hölle ist hier los!" A Belkan voice shouted, clearly trying to work out what was going on, and who the new voices were…

" Woher soll ich das Wissen! Franz, finden sie diese Übertragung squelle, und-"

"~One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya! One way or another, I'm gonna win ya, I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya!~"

"Bingo, looks like their command centre just lit up! Nautilus, you'd better be on your a-game tonight, those radars are looking for us now." Sierra called out, and he confirmed the signal on his equipment. Nothing said "obviously unaware of an attack" like turning on every radar in the vicinity of the town, he supposed.

He just hoped that would be how they remained until-

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Rain, missile alert. Nine o'clock."

"Understood, taking evasive actions." The Prowler was quickly thrown into a right-hand bank, and he spotted a missile trail – probably an SA-3 – heading for them. With little practice on the Prowler's enhanced countermeasures, he launched chaff to confuse the missile's guidance, and hoped that Rain could maneuver them around the missile.

"Solitaire One, we've got a lock on the battery targeting you. Magnum, I repeat, Magnum."

"Missile defeated, missile defeated." He called, as the missile trail passed almost a thousand feet above their heads.

He could only hope that their evasive dance around St Calippo would be enough to keep the Belkans attention on them, and not for their attention to go wandering around looking for the thing they were so obviously distracting them from…

/-/

For Kureha, the anxiety in the cockpit was almost physical – if she'd reached out, she felt as though she could cut through it. Despite leading the flight in the boys' absence, that hadn't been particularly difficult (other than when Paladin got ideas above his station, which were soon shut down), but this?

It felt as though she was in a war movie right now – one of those old ones Michael had shown them, what was it called now, she wondered… oh right, The Dambusters… or was it 633 Squadron? They were both about against all odds bombing raids performed by mad Brits who seemed hellbent on dying in a blaze of glory… she wondered what that said about the British psyche that such people were held as heroes, rather than lunatics volunteering for a suicide mission…

Either way, those movies had always ended with… well, a less than perfect outcome.

To put it bluntly, people died. In some of them, everyone died. Never the main characters – who were usually the commanders… on the ground, mind you, but people still died, and she really didn't want to imagine any of them dying. Idol were still kids in her eyes – even Nautilus and Yuna were still their youngers, even though it wasn't by much, and she'd rather not have gotten everyone killed on a faulty plan that she'd signed off on...

Still, they were good enough to take care of themselves, she knew that much. Jet and Sierra were both mad enough to think that this was a good plan (her opinion was rather less clear cut, but any plan that worked was a good one, she supposed.), and the guy and girls of Idol were all good pilots, even if they were a little green. Coming out of her thoughts, she checked the clock in the cockpit – 01:35.

Right on time.

"Solitaire Two to Element Charlie. Begin the operation."

"Samurai Leader to Solitaire Two, we'll be right behind you!"

Based on a photo recon flight earlier in the day, they had worked out an attack path through the harbour's mouth that would expose them to the least anti-aircraft fire, and hopefully, the least risk from whatever remained of the Belkan air defences.

Whilst the boys had replaced their Phantom with a new Tornado, she had chosen to replace her Skylancer with an F-105D, the Thunderchief (or Thud, as Sierra had called it, claiming it was after the sound it made when it dropped on your head.), a much heavier aircraft than her old Skylancer, and with considerably poorer air-to-air capabilities… but significantly greater ground attack capabilities, especially given she was currently carrying 28 Snakeeyes, plus a bomb-bay filled with a fuel tank to increase their range and the F-105 didn't feel particularly sluggish in that configuration.

Looking out the window, it was time to put her game face on – this really was do or die, and she wasn't too keen on the latter option!

"And now, we've got KC & The Sunshine Band, with Give It Up!" She could hear over the radio, and reminded herself that they had the duration of that song to make their passes, and that was it. That meant they had 4 minutes and 6 seconds to get in, release their payloads of nearly fifty bombs, and get the hell out of there before the Belkans knew what hit them, whilst Samurai took the command centre out with whatever they'd brought with them – mostly larger Mk84 with ballutes to avoid blowing the next aircraft in the line-up…

In order to do so, she and Zeliska had agreed that they would form an X-shaped attack pattern across the docks; herself going from northwest to southeast, whilst Zeliska took northeast to southwest, the Snakeeyes hopefully scoring the maximum damage on the docks in the time they had on target…

As the sound of trumpets began to fill the airwaves, she pulled the F-105 up from its dive at 200 foot; high enough to avoid clipping any structures, but low enough that the gunners on the hills surrounding the docks would struggle to depress the cannons low enough to hit them.

"~Na na na na na na, baby give it up, give it up, baby give it up!~" Blared the 70's disco anthem, as she hit the release point for her Snakeeyes. "Bombs away!" The volley of Mk82s peeled away from her aircraft at 500 kts, the tails deploying immediately and allowing her to yank the F-105 into a tight, climbing turn to the right as she watched the explosions rip through the docks in a neat line behind her.

Now that was a fireworks show!

"Good effect on target, Two." Sierra called from his vantage point above the city.

"Beginning my attack now." The Corsair dove down, its bombs peeling away in the dive, before the chubby aircraft pulled up. Perhaps it wasn't the best-looking aircraft, but she'd be damned if she found anything better as a bomb truck that could fit on a carrier…

Another line of fires and explosions broke out, forming a literal cross of fire where the docks had been. Infernos raged in what she assumed had been weapons and fuel stores, high enough that any additional attackers would run the risk of being turned into fireballs as they flew through. In the darkness, she struggled to see any of the facilities anymore, just the blazes where they had been…

"Good effect, Three. They won't be getting that back online any time soon!"

"Samurai Lead, bombs away!"

"Samurai Two, bombs away!"

"Samurai Four, bombs away!"

"Samurai Flight, all bombs hit their target. Doubt they'll be controlling much when they wake up!"

"If they wake up, anyway."

Despite the success of the attack, she couldn't help but feel sorry for people down there – she doubted many of them were awake, and those that were, were probably contractors rather than actual military personnel.

Civilians, in other words. They hadn't bombed the Belkan Navy, so much as they had bombed the civilians assisting the Belkan Navy to repair their currently absent ships… many of whom were now burning to death or being forced to jump in the waters to escape the inferno.

There was something to be said for the dichotomy between the upbeat disco music playing through their radios, and the horrors being experienced below them. It was almost darkly amusing, in the most horrible sense of the word; like someone had deliberately picked the most upbeat songs to fuck with the Belkans morale, as they tore apart the docks in the most violent way possible…

Wait, someone had picked the music - they had picked the music. She wondered what that said about them at that point, but decided that the soul searching could wait until they landed back at Canaveral in a few hours…

One thing she did know though, was that she was going to need a stiff drink to process all of this…

"This is Flash Lead to Solitaire, you've got trouble heading your way. A flight of F-4s on the deck, and they do not look happy to see you!"

"Silber Team, destroy the Osean dogs." An older man called out, with a distinctly English accent – something she'd gotten some practice with, being friends with Jet and all that entailed. Weren't Belka meant to be an analogue to Germany, instead… not Britain? Or at least, she'd assumed that to be the case, given the amount of German being thrown about in the radio chatter…

Mind you, they'd been flying British bombers and small numbers of fighters, so maybe it was an analogue to both. Either way, she was hanging back on that drink, because they had a job to do. "Boys and girls, guess we're fighting our way back home too."

"Oh good, because today had been too easy, hadn't it?" Sierra grumbled, but seemed as if he had his head down by now.

It was Klein who interrupted next. "Wait, did he just say Silber Team?"

"He did." Jet answered grimly, as if he knew something the rest of them didn't.

"We are fucked then."

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 – Thieves in the Night, pt.2

This was nothing like the Battle of Avalon, Asuna had quickly realised.

No, back in that battle, she could actually see what she was shooting at, and not just small glints in the night sky that could've been aircraft… or alternatively, they could have been stars. Or they could have been tracer rounds.

That was a distinct possibility, given she watched a pair of MIG-17s shoot each other down in the mistaken belief that each other were hostile…

"Flash Three, splash one!"

"This is worse than over Cor!" LLENN almost shouted. "At least we weren't blind then!"

"They keep coming!" Eydis shouted in frustration.

"The only saving grace is that they can't see us either." Fanatio reminded them, and for the first time, the older woman actually sounded stressed too...

"Asuna, this is Sinon. I'm Winchester now."

"Understood Sinon, return to base." Asuna told her. "We can hold the fort here."

"Eydis, splash one!" An explosion filled up the night sky below her, no doubt the hostile that Eydis had just splashed.

"Alice to Asuna, all bombs away!"

A set of explosions from the ground below told her that the low-level bombing of the base had clearly had some impact, even if it wasn't much in the tactical sense. Hopefully though, it would be enough to allow them to come up and reinforce them.

Honestly, right about now, they could absolutely do with Alice's brand of aggressive flying… and a miracle, but she wasn't about to pin her hopes on her for the latter.

"Liena to Asuna, out of Skyflashes. Coming to assist."

The battle had now been raging for five minutes at this point, and Asuna had come to a stark realisation – let alone fuel, they were all going to run out of weapons before too long!

She was already down to her guns, both Sidewinders having been let off at passing MIGs minutes ago, and given she only had 120 rounds combined, it was an exercise in trigger discipline to ensure she used those wisely too!

Given both Sinon and Liena were out of BVR weapons, it was a fair assumption that the Ronye and Tiese were on their last rounds, and in an extremely unusual event, even Pito hadn't said she'd fired for almost a minute…

"All aircraft, check in!" She called during a brief lull in the battle.

"LLENN, still here… barely."

"Pito, I'm out of weapons, but I'm not out yet!"

"Eydis, down to my guns."

"Fanatio, one Aphid left."

"Liena, I'm down to my last Sidewinder."

"Tiese, I'm… out, my guns are out too!"

A brief pause came through where Asuna would have expected Ronye to answer; the girl being quite strict at maintaining her radio discipline… "Ronye, come in?" She called, somewhat concerned by her lack of answer.

"I see her! She's hit, but she's in full afterburner!" Tiese called out. "Looks like a Phantom's chasing her!"

"All aircraft, move to-"

"Asuna, this is Eugeo. We're closest and we still have our Magics and guns, we'll move to cover her!" In the distance below, she watched as two bright lights climbed out into the night sky – probably the two Mirages.

"Understood, Eugeo. We'll do what we can up here. Tiese, break away and return to base."

"Okay." Despite her acknowledgement, Asuna could tell that she wasn't at all happy at that order – understandably so, in her opinion. She wouldn't have followed it if she were in the girl's position, but at best, all Tiese could do now was evade enemy fire and put herself at greater risk than she already was.

Asuna could only hope they could actually get there in time to help Ronye though. It had only been a day for them since they'd lost Koharu, and they'd all silently sworn "never again" after that…

/-/

Over St. Calippo, the group had already begun evasive maneuvers to evade the volley of AIM-7s being fired at them, and with the help of the countermeasures and electronic warfare, those evasive tactics had been surprisingly effective – not a single missile had so much as scratched them!

"Boss, those Phantoms are coming head-to-head with us."

"Got it Harry-" Without warning, Klein's radio burst into a screech of static and garbled voices. "What the hell?" He asked, trying to work out what just happened.

"Anyone, I need help!"

"Cap, that's Ronye, the hell's she doing over here?" The American said.

"I'd hazard a guess those Phantoms Asuna warned us about might have something to do with it, Sierra." Jet sighed, as if he knew exactly what was about to happen. "Solitaire Lead, we're staying to handle the SAMs. Idol, Solitaire Flight, fall back. Samurai, any help you can give us is appreciated."

Switching into leader mode, Klein took over. "Leave the fighters to us, Solitaire! Samurai Flight, no one goes down today, got it?" He ordered. They'd lost one friend this week, no chance was there going to be a second whilst they were on duty…

"We're on it, boss!"

"Looking forward to watching you lads work, Samurai. We'll give the buggers on the ground something to aim at! Ammo count?"

"Two ALARMs, 300 rounds in our cannons, two Lima Sidewinders. Really wishing we'd bought bombs, cap."

"Agreed… oh well, let's get to work then. Solitaire Two, tell us when you guys are clear."

"Try not to die, boys…" Kureha told them, and Klein didn't need to have been around the former naval pilots to know that she wasn't too happy at leaving her flight leader to fight alone.

As Solitaire fell quiet, Klein caught a glimpse of the silhouette of Ronye's Draken against the dark night sky, contrasted by the flames of the burning docks and command centre, with a pair of Phantoms a distance back, their silhouettes contrasted by their afterburners being on, and the intermittent firing of their guns.

Ronye was giving them a run for their money (and ammunition), but when you were able to pour out so many rounds of 20mm ammunition, it was inevitable a burst would score home eventually, and so it fell to them to get them off her before that happened.

Thankfully, they had a couple of tricks up their sleeves – Liz had modified both his Crusader and the Phantoms to use more advanced weaponry: the AIM-9L Sidewinder.

A development of the earlier Sidewinders they'd been using since the game began, the "Lima" as it was sometimes known, was an exceptionally capable missile with all-aspect capabilities that their earlier missiles lacked. Rather than being forced into a limited attack envelope from behind, the AIM-9L was able to lock onto a target from a much greater variety of angles, including head-on, or from the sides, giving them a far greater chance to actually hit something with a shot!

"I've got the leader. Harry, take the wingman."

"Got it boss!"

Working to get a lock, the Sidewinder growled into his headset as it picked up the signature of the Phantom, an indicator of a solid lock on the target and that he was in range for the shot. A press of the weapons release, and the Sidewinder shot away into the blackened abyss around them, the motor lighting up the sky as it tore towards the Phantom… and missed completely.

"All-aspect my ass! It just flew straight by him!" He swore angrily into his radio, not aiming at anyone in particular.

"You sure it was growling, and not just firing up the seeker, Klein?" Sierra asked. "Solitaire One, Magnum."

"Gimme a break! They sound similar?!"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Good to know…" Klein worked again to get a Sidewinder lock on the lead Phantom, but by this point, the pilot – evidently not so stupid as to miss the smoke trail behind him – had thrown the F-4 into evasive measures.

Technically, they'd achieved what they were aiming to, which was to break the Phantoms off of Ronye's tail, but he'd be damned if he was going to let Silber Team go! These guys were the aces of aces in the Belkan Air Force, and right now, he had one of them in his sights!

"Thanks! They're breaking off, but my engine's running slow, sirs."

"Flash Four, this is Solitaire Lead. Turn to heading 310, I'll get the rest of our flight to cover you." Jet told her, and in the distance, Klein saw a missile battery explode into oblivion, no doubt hit by an ALARM.

"Missile battery down. Kureha, can you hear us?"

"Loud and Clear, Sierra. What's up?"

"Ronye's heading back your way with engine difficulties. Can you wait for her to catch up over the Bay and escort her back?"

"Gotcha."

"Solitaire Lead, Flash Lead. Your stray lamb is safe, my flight is escorting her back to Canaveral."

"Oh thank you lord. Flash Lead to all aircraft, she's safe."

"Call him God, and he will get an ego…" Sierra grumbled. "Cap, we've got a problem – more fighters, plenty more of them!"

"Yeah, sorry about that Lover-boy, we might be fighting an entire squadron over here, and-" The call fell short mid-sentence, never a good sign, Klein knew that much, and the fact it was replaced by frantic garbles was an even poorer sign…

"Liena, Eydis is hit, but she's still flying. Asuna, we need to leave… now! Pito, LLENN, Ronye and Tiese are are already out of the fight, and we're all nearly out of ammunition."

"Alice here, we're over the docks still, we can head back towards-"

"We need to secure a way out, or we all die trying." Fanatio told her bluntly.

"Boss, when we did the briefing, there's a GCI centre near the town, that would leave them blinded for a bit, shouldn't it?"

"Worth a shot." Klein agreed. "That radar signature should be massive, shouldn't it?"

"I see it on my ECM gear. Cap, reckon you can get us close enough to give it a really bad time?"

"Samurai, we're handling the GCI. Can you keep the fighters off us?" Jet asked.

"We're on it." Klein responded.

Klein looked around outside for the incoming fighters – a flight of four MIG-17s hugging the deck, whilst another pair had a pair of Sabres in close pursuit of them. "Looks like Ran and Yuuki are over here too, watch your fire!"

"Understood Boss, we'll make sure we only blow up the bad guys."

"I'll deal with those MIGs on the deck." In a turning fight, the F-8 was somewhat inferior to the MIG-17, but Klein wasn't planning to let it get to a turning fight, rather being more of a run-and-gun attack pattern that he was planning.

"Klein, Fox Two."

The first MIG must have caught a brief glance of the ocean blue Crusader in the night sky, but not quite enough to evade the Sidewinder he had fired head on at the aging fighter. The direct hit from the continuous-rod warhead reduced the Fresco to a fireball in the night sky, and burning shrapnel as it fell into the waters below…

"Klein to Ran, Yuuki. I'm coming in head on with the MIGs… Yuuki, you have a Phantom behind you!"

"These guys don't give up, do they!?"

"Nor do we though, sis!" In the night sky, he barely caught a glimmer of the Sabre's NMF airframe breaking against the moonlight, as the Phantom attempted to turn with it.

Big mistake, he knew – the Sabre was agile in its day, and could easily outmaneuver the newer Crusader and Phantom, even though it was much slower than either. What Yuuki had done with that advantage was to give him a big target to shoot at.

Frantically readying a Sidewinder, the missile growled in his headset – this time having actually locked onto something, rather than warming up – and he fired the heat seeker. "Fox Two!"

The missile dropped away from the cheek pylon and raced into the night sky at around Mach 3, before it found its prey. The proximity seeking continuous-rod warhead soon found its mark, blasting itself and the Phantom apart when it reached a set distance from the target. The Phantom it hit didn't stand a chance – the left wing being blown apart, whilst its tail looked as if it had been partially ripped off the airframe as it entered a very short spiral into the ground…

"Samurai Lead, one Silver down!" Klein shouted, almost in jubilation at the victory – he had downed a Silver! One of the enemy aces, and he'd managed to shoot the guy down without a scratch!

"Silber Two, respond!" One of the Belkans shouted in distress. "The blue F-8, he downed Ulrich…"

"Ugh, damn it, these guys are better than I thought…"

"Sorry boys, you'll have to try a bit harder than that!"

"Silber Lead, leave the Crusader to me. Three, Four… kill that bloody Sabre."

"Ran, Yuuki, looks like you're about to have company…"

"Let's show them what we think of them, shall we, Yuuki?" As the sisters finished their conversation, Klein got a glimpse of something – the first Phantom launching a Sparrow, no doubt at the girls. Unlike his Crusader – or most of their aircraft, come to think of it – the older Sabre lacked any kind of Radar Warning Receiver, and in its base model, it lacked any form of missile warning whatsoever, meaning the pilot had to be very switched on, and able to spot the missile trail, a difficult task in broad daylight, let alone in the dead of night!

"Ran, Yuuki, you've got Sparrows incoming!" He called, and the two Sabres broke off into the night sky.

"So, you must be one of the Osean hot-shots…" The voice of their flight leader came through on their frequency.

"Get off our frequency, asshole!" Klein shouted into his radio set, receiving only tutting in response initially, which morphed into an amused laughter, as if to taunt them.

Eventually though, the Silver Leader's actual response came through. "So uncouth. I will have to close that mouth of yours, there are ladies present after all…"

"Hey, you aren't the only one with a new toy!" Klein heard Sierra shout, as a screech came through his radio set. "You're gonna close our mouths? Well guess what, we've just closed your eyes!"

What the hell even was that? Some kind of radio jamming, no, it couldn't be that, the radios still worked… wait, there weren't that many blips before, were there?

Oh…

Evidently annoyed by the radar spoofing, the Silber Leader came back on the frequency. "Hmm, you are more resourceful than I was led to believe… never fear, Silber comes out on top!"

"Funny, I always thought silver came second… " Sierra quipped. "And I only see two sides here… so live up to your names already!"

"Silber Three, gah, what are these Sabres!" One of the Silvers called out, his Phantom hit by tracer fire from Ran's Sabre.

"Do you know what outranks Silver? Gold! Now die like dogs!" Alice shouted out, almost as if she was thinking she was in some kind of mecha anime… "Alice, Fox Two!"

"Solitaire, their GCI's offline, ALARMs struck home."

"Four, destroy that Tornado."

"Err Cap…"

"Yeah, I heard." Jet sighed. "All aircraft. We're falling back to the west. Give him a run for his money, I think…"

With the Tornado running out to the west, one of the Phantoms had taken off after him, with Alice in initially close pursuit, leaving just two of the Silber aircraft in the fight – their leader, and their number three.

Whilst Ran and Yuuki taught the number three a valuable lesson about underestimating a foe – his Phantom becoming more a high-speed colander, as the girls raked the Phantom with tracer fire – that just left their flight leader, who wasn't so foolish… even if he was extremely arrogant.

"Boss, we've gotta go soon!" Dale told him, in no uncertain terms, and it was something he recognised himself. The Crusader was no long-range fighter, and unlike the others, it had no way to carry payload and drop tanks, meaning he was reliant on internal fuel only; a fuel supply that was getting steadily closer to the red with every twist and turn he made to evade the attacking Phantom.

"Yeah, I figured. Just need two more minutes to smoke this guy!"

It was an optimistic assessment of the situation, Klein thought. The Silber leader was good – really good, in fact – but he was better, and he would prove why he was leader of Fuurinkazen! Throwing the Crusader into a spiralling dive, he kept his head on a swivel, watching out for any sudden moves the Phantom could make, before yanking the Crusader back to level flight over the burning docks… and a wall of anti-aircraft fire that could see them both lit up like candles in the night sky…

"Shit!" He shouted into his mask, as a shell burst in the air not far from the Crusader. "Too close…"

"Let this be your grave-" The Silber leader was interrupted as his Phantom burst into flames, a direct hit from an AA shell, no doubt. Now lit up further, Klein threw the Crusader's throttle wide open, and the afterburner on his J57 roared to life, both burning through the precious little fuel left, and making him an even more obvious target…

"It ain't gonna be mine, buddy. But it might be yours…" He answered, leaving what felt like a net of fire behind, and throttling back to a more manageable power setting for the flight home. "Samurai Lead, Silber Leader is down."

"Brilliant timing, the third Silver is down too."

"What about the one chasing you guys?" He asked Jet and Sierra.

"Oh, he is sleeping with the fish now." Alice answered, before clarifying what had happened. "He crashed."

"Does that mean we get a manuevering kill?" Sierra asked, and he could imagine the grin on the American's face.

"Don't you dare- I put as much effort into getting him to that position as you did!"

"Whatever you say, princess." He could just imagine the American rolling his eyes at that comment.

"What did you just call me!?" Unsurprisingly, Alice took it about as well as could be expected – if by "expected", he meant "was livid" at the statement anyway.

"Alice, calm down, he didn't-" Eugeo tried to calm her down, but wasn't having much luck on that front…

"Aa-and I think the mute button is handy there." Klein joked, before radioing through to his flight. "Everyone still here?"

"We're all still here boss." Issin answered. "Barely though. Those MIGs put up a hell of a fight."

"Kunimittz says they hit the fleet and are heading back now. We'll be about twenty minutes behind them, I reckon."

"I'll be glad to get some rest. I'm exhausted."

"Join the club, Harry. I've been up the past 24 hours now…" Sierra, now unmuted, answered.

"Element Bravo to Element Charlie. How are you guys doing?"

"Completely out of weapons, but we're mostly fine. Eydis reckons she'll have to crash land, her gear's broken, and Wind Fleuret is handling strangely, but we'll make it back. How about you?"

"We're fine for now. Doubt Sierra will be when he gets out the cockpit, but that's a future problem." Jet remarked, and he could just here Sierra moaning about loyalty and being thrown into the jaws of a dragon…

"Can't say I'm too surprised he annoyed someone else." Asuna admitted, and he could just hear Alice snort in agreement over the frequency…

Still, the radio chatter was better than fighting off insurmountable odds…

/-/

The flight back to Canaveral had been a lot shorter on the way back – not having to avoid being detected allowed them to take a slightly more direct way back, cutting the flight time down significantly.

That hadn't meant they were out of the woods yet though, Eydis knew that much. For the rest of them, there was still a chance that they would have to deal with any remnants of the Belkan Naval fighters that had escorted their carrier; for her, though, it meant she would have to land a crippled Mirage in the dark.

"Alice, you there?"

"Receiving you Eydis. Is something the matter?"

"Any ideas on how to land this thing? No gear, and my throttle's shot through. Stuck at half power since I left the combat zone, and the power's steadily decreasing. I really don't wanna find out how well this thing glides…"

"Will you make it back to Canaveral?" Alice asked.

"Not sure, but I'll make it back to land." She was sure on that much – land was only five minutes away for her, but Canaveral was anywhere between 10 and 15 minutes away at full speed. Her engine might hold for ten minutes, but no way would it make fifteen…

"If your engine fails, eject, please…"

"Yeah, will do." She tuned the radio to Jet's frequency. "Hey."

"You took a hit back there, you okay?" He asked.

"Been better. I've got no throttle, no landing gear, and an engine that's steadily breaking up."

"Eydis…" Jet sighed. "How far from land are you?"

"About five minutes."

"Reckon you'll make it?" He asked nervously.

"Yeah. I already told Alice I'll eject when I'm certain I'm over land."

"Sierra, what's our fuel state?" Jet asked, and although she couldn't hear the conversation clearly, she could roughly imagine what was being said. "Okay, we've got about 45 minutes left in the tank, so we'll stay on station to keep you safe till rescue gets here."

"Jet, I'm over friendly territory."

"That's what I've been trying to tell him!" Sierra shouted; his voice picked up through his pilot's mic… "This isn't like last time, we'll just get in the way if stay around."

There was a brief pause, before Jet came back over the frequency. "Alright." Despite his agreement, she could tell he wasn't happy about the idea. There was an almost quiet seething to his voice, and despite understanding why he was being protective – he had seen what had happened to Koharu only a day earlier, after all – he wanted to reach him through the radio and give him a shake, to tell him his job was to be Captain of his squad, not to keep a close tab on her…

That was fine on the ground, and honestly quite nice, but in the air? It just felt a little smothering…

"Umm, Cap, we have a problem?" Sierra broke the silence, by now broadcasting on an open channel to all aircraft in the formation.

"Well, looks like we may be joining you in chutes sooner rather than later, Eydis…"

"Err, not that kind. We've got fighters closing in from the north-west." Sierra explained.

"Osean?"

"Almost certainly." Sierra answered. "They're moving like bats outta hell though…"

"Osean aircraft, this is Captain Diavel. Change course to land at Canaveral, or you will be fired upon."

There was a degree of shock from everyone at that message – why would they be considered hostile anyway, unless…

"Oh shit…" Jet sighed into his mic, already on the same page as her. "Did we actually tell anyone we were going to do this?"

"I thought the commander had done that." Asuna answered awkwardly. "I'm guessing he didn't."

"I will be having words with him when we land, Captain Yuuki, and I imagine they shall be rather stern…" Fanatio seemed more fed up by this unscheduled interception, rather than actually taking it seriously...

The question of what would happen to them when they landed soon became a distant thought for her though, as the ATAR behind her began to splutter more violently than before. "Eydis to escorting aircraft, my engine's failed and I'm ejecting."

"Understood – we'll keep a safe distance, and deal with the aircraft before it hits anything." She sighed, knowing that meant her Mirage was going to be reduced to nothing more than metal confetti once she was out of the way of it.

Lisbeth was going to kill her, considering how much work she had put into it…

Still, she'd rather be killed by the vengeful mechanic than she would her ejection seat as Koharu had. "Well, here goes…" She told herself, as she pulled the handles above her head. The briefest of moments passed, before she felt herself launched upwards with a scream that she was thankful that no one would ever hear, and found herself tumbling through the air…

Thankfully, that tumbling soon ceased, replaced by dangling under a white canopy, with a view of the night sky that many would've killed to see. Honestly, she would have found it amazing too, had it not been for the circumstances she had encountered to get her to this position…

/-/

Had any of them been expecting a hero's welcome upon their return to Canaveral, they were sorely mistaken.

In fact, a number of them – the Rectans, Kirito had noticed – had been escorted away at gunpoint, whilst the others were marched, though without the M16s pointed at their backs, to Diavel's office, and the man did not seem pleased.

Not one bit.

"Okay, so does anyone want to explain why I get a phone call at 2am saying that a group of my fighters are currently bombing a neutral country?! Anyone?"

Most of them looked at one another as if to see who was going to go first, despite knowing that none of them wanted to go first. In the end though, and after a large number of looks exchanged, Alice had decided she would volunteer as spokeswoman for this whole fiasco…

"We decided to take the initiative and stop the Belkan fleet before it could be repaired."

"Bullshit, and you know it, Alice." Kirito hadn't really seen Diavel act in any way that ran counter to the slightly stuck up, but well-meaning commander role he'd always felt natural in, before now… and if he was honest, he'd rather not see it again. "You went after the Belkans because they killed Koharu…" The way that he said that gave him a slight feeling that Diavel was now wondering whether he'd have done something similar had one of his flight died… "and truthfully, I don't blame you for that. I would have been furious in that mess too. But that doesn't give you the right to go off and commit a terror bombing on a civilian dockyard… let alone one in a neutral country!"

He winced at that one. Whilst his flight had engaged the Belkan fleet out at sea with anti-shipping weapons, and Asuna's flight had harassed the fighters that came up to challenge them… the third flight had destroyed the docks, and although they'd said they had faced fierce resistance… they had also managed to destroy a vast majority of the civilian infrastructure too.

"With all due respect, sir, we had intel that they planned to repair the fleet there, and so, we disabled it." The sarcasm in the Brit's voice was almost thick enough to cut with a butter knife…

"Something that we also knew and that we were working on a plan to handle the risk posed by the docks… or we were, until some rogue pilots went and caused a diplomatic incident! About the only redeeming thing from that mess is that you did such a thorough job on the docks that it is unlikely that they will be repaired for the remainder of the year, and by attacking at night, the civilian casualties have been in the low single digits." Diavel sighed and rubbed his hand against the bridge of his nose. "Look, privately, I'm glad those docks are out of commission. Any attack that the others wanted would've been in broad daylight, and lord knows how many people would've died on both sides if we'd done that. Not least that we now know they had long-range SAMs positioned nearby, and an ace squadron alongside those… but you all know that I can't just let you go with a slap on the wrist for this, as much as I want to."

He hated that Diavel had a point there, and if he was honest, he felt like a bit of hypocrite for their actions – back when Flight 668 had been shot down, he had quite forcefully told Koharu that they were fighter pilots, not vigilantes, and they couldn't just go and bomb somewhere out of a sense of morality, no matter how much they deserved it…

Something he had very much ignored since she had died. He had been so infuriated by what had happened over the Bay that he had completely ignored his own words, and chose to go and do exactly what he had told her they were not to do…

"With some luck, the effects of your airstrike will have persuaded the commanders that we cannot just keep on the defensive, and that Belka do pose significant offensive capabilities too. If that is the case, I should be able to adjust the paperwork to say I authorised it… retroactively, of course."

Despite the positive sound of what Diavel was saying, no one seemed too enthused by the idea. It was corruption, and it was fraud, two things none of them were particularly sold on the idea of, but if it kept them flying… they would go along with it, even if it was only begrudgingly.

"Until then though, I'm taking you all off active flight duty, and assigning you to base duty. The only flying you will be doing is training exercises as and when approved by me personally. Is that understood?"

A smattering of agreement came from the group, and they found themselves dismissed into the cold air outside Diavel's hut.

"I mean, it could've been worse?" Sierra half-heartedly answered, to a set of glares from almost everyone gathered…

"Sierra, with all due respect… shut up." Kureha seemed just as annoyed at him for that one as everyone else but was the only one to vocalise what they were thinking. "We're all grounded, our friends might be being shot, and we're now accomplices to a crime that might put people away for ten to twenty years. About the only way it could've been worse if we were in the same position… and honestly, I'd rather we were!"

"I am with Kureha on that one. It hardly seems fair that we should punished more leniently for instigating such a mission, whilst our friends potentially take the fall for us!"

Kirito thought about it briefly, and suddenly a few things clicked into place in his mind. Briefly, he looked over at Eugeo, who seemed to have had the same realisation as him… "He's not going to do what I think he is… is he?"

"Err, that is what exactly?"

"The Rectans are a useful scapegoat. Diavel views us all as useful assets, but the Rectans as more disposable." Itsuki explained, a cold detachment in his voice. "A rather shrewd decision, if somewhat morally reprehensible."

"It's leadership politics, Itsuki. Morally reprehensible's the default." Jet answered with a shrug. "But if he thinks he's going to get away with that… he really does have another thing coming."

"Kirito, I know there's every chance that will just ground us permanently, but…" Asuna seemed to be just as fired up, though he could tell she was trying to work out a way to outmaneuver Diavel in her head. To play the same game of cards as Diavel was, but to make sure their hand was loaded in such a way as to counter any move he could make… "They put their lives on the line for us. I think this is the least we could do to repay them…"

"For once, I agree with Asuna. To hell with being played as pawns in some game of chess!" Alice was also pretty worked up; it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. "If he wishes to play games with our lives, then we shall prove we are just as capable at playing games as he is!"

Too worked up, in fact; she was kind of terrifying them all.

"Alice, I, uhh, think you might need to calm down a bit." Eugeo did his best to calm Alice's rage, and thankfully, it did seem to calm her down a little bit. Enough that she was now seething, rather than openly livid, but it was better than nothing… "But she's right though. I'm through being used as a pawn in these games."

"I think we should pay Diavel another visit then, now we are all in agreement…" Asuna stated, to everyone's agreement…

/-/

It had only taken an hour of negotiations between Asuna, Argo and Diavel to get a deal that the whole group had found fair – well, everyone but Diavel, but they weren't counting his opinion in this anyway – and the deal had been formulated in such a way that they had wanted what they had gotten… and gotten what they had wanted. The Rectans would not be scapegoated for their… expedition, and Diavel would be allowed to ground them, and not commit further fraud – Asuna had explained that the captain seemed as if he already had done so, and that the negotiations had only further reinforced that opinion – to keep them on active duty.

The fact Asuna had been that competent at this, whilst sleep deprived at 4am after an exhausting battle in the sky above Sapin, should probably have terrified him, but instead he found himself almost in awe at his wing-woman's ability to play "the game", as Bercouli had put it when they visited the Rectans to tell them they were free…

It had almost been soon enough that Eydis had only just returned to the base and found herself incarcerated for what may have been the shortest sentence in history – about fifteen minutes, all in all!

Still though, that morning had been plenty exciting, and they had all, probably sensibly, decided to catch up on sleep lost in the past day, which is where he found himself – in bed, trying to sleep at 5am, as the sun rose above Canaveral.

Despite Sugu's jokes at home, he wasn't nocturnal, and trying to sleep as the sun beamed in through his windows was more difficult than any air battle he had ever faced. He had spent the past hour tossing and turning, as well as deciding that the first thing he was doing tomorrow – err, today even – was putting up blackout curtains so this wouldn't be a problem, and that was what he was doing when he heard a knock on the door.

Probably Eugeo, he thought to himself, before looking over at his friend's bed… and seeing him very much fast asleep in said bed. Okay, so it definitely wasn't Eugeo then…

Opening the door, he was a little shocked to see Asuna stood there, looking less than pleased at something. "Umm, hi?"

"Can I sleep here? Argo's snoring, and I can't find anywhere else to sleep…"

"I'll take the sofa…" He said, resigning himself to sleeping on the sofa that the two boys kept over the side of the room. At least the sunlight wouldn't be in his eyes, he supposed…

"Thank you!" Asuna smiled at him, and he wasn't sure why, but he felt that crack on the ceiling looked remarkably interesting all of a sudden…

As he plopped himself down on the sofa, he noticed Asuna turning to face him from the bed. "I'm sorry for all of this, Kirito…"

"Eh, don't be. I know how loudly Argo snores." He replied flippantly.

"Heh, no, I meant all of this. Dragging everyone into a mess I created. If I'd never spoke up, we'd not be in this mess…"

"One of us would've done something before too long, Asuna. If anything, I'm just glad you're on our side… else we'd have been really screwed when we landed!"

"I hate that I know how to play those kinds of… games." Asuna spoke with a degree of venom that he'd never really heard from her before. "It's just… I played this to get away from all of that."

"I know what you mean. I can't say I'm happy about it either. I'd rather it be as simple as shooting down bad guys, but I don't think we're going to get that luxury."

"Chance would be a fine thing, wouldn't it?" Asuna laughed with a bitter tone. "Still, we'll have plenty of time to think about it, won't we?"

"Yay…" He responded with absolute sarcasm. "Hey, Asuna, I've got a question for you?"

"Yes?" She answered.

"You know Argo's been betting on our love lives, right?" Normally, he'd have felt at least a little guilty throwing Argo under the bus like that, but in this case… the Rat deserved it.

"She's been what?!"

The shriek that Asuna let out was one that, had it been harnessed in the form of a weapon, could probably have destroyed glass at up to fifty paces, as well as waking up sleeping bunkmates…

/-/

There was a tired old cliché that spies only ever met their counterparts in busy parks, usually in the middle of whatever city they had infiltrated.

That simply wasn't true, Gabriel knew – many of them never met at all. In fact, he viewed it as a source of embarrassment if a spy had to meet their opposite number, as it was a sign that something had gone horribly wrong, and that a catastrophe was imminent…

Meeting one's subordinates, however, was a different matter. In his case, those two subordinates were two trainees of the Osean Air Force's 23rd Fighter Squadron; a boy and a girl in their mid-teens who had told someone how they were fed up of how certain elements of the squadron were glorified as heroes, whilst the others were forgotten…

Their reasons for betrayal weren't financial, nor were they motivated by power… they were purely their ego driven narcissism. A truly petty reason for selling out their supposed allied, and had he been on their side, he would've ensured that such treachery was "rewarded" with the fate they truly deserved.

Fortunately for their continued existence though, their ego trip was very useful for their cause, and so, he would let them live for as long as they continued to prove useful. After that, however, well…

They were assets, and nothing more. If they believed they were anything else, then they were sorely mistaken…

"Mr Miller?" The boy asked somewhat nervously. Had the boy been any paler, he would've suggested that the boy was a vampire, such an unhealthy shade of white was his skin…

"You must be our allies in the air force, I presume." He answered, thoroughly unimpressed by either of them on first impression. The boy came across as meek, and unwilling to stick to his guns should things go wrong, whilst the girl came across as arrogant and exactly what he would have expected from them, knowing what he knew…

The girl was first to respond, and she did so with a tone of undeserved arrogance. "Yes. We did as you asked and sabotaged their aircraft." He felt a mild twinge of frustration as she answered. He had not asked them to sabotage planes, he had asked them to disrupt flight operations, and gave a passive grunt.

"I did ask you to reduce their operational capacity, but I suppose such an order was too difficult for you two." Throughout his life, he had discovered that people did not take kindly to being called idiots or incompetent – even when they were being so – but telling them that they were so whilst wording it in such a way as to be rather unclear helped greatly.

"We'll do what we can, sir."

"No. You will keep yourselves hidden and await further instructions. Am I clear?"

"But we can-"

"Stay hidden. That is your only instruction. Anything else will be treated as disobeying a direct order, and I assure you, you do not want to find out what happens to those who disobey the Administration."

The boy, evidently using the shared brain cell at that moment, visibly gulped at the threat. The girl, on the other hand, seemed far too confident in her very, very limited abilities, and far too willing to put them to the test… "Understood, sir." She said, with a clear tone of sarcasm to her voice.

He cared not for her sarcasm, not as long as those two narcissistic idiots proved useful, anyway…

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 – Grounded

There weren't many worse ways to start the day than the one Lisbeth was currently going through. Firstly, she'd had a truly terrible night's sleep, having been kept awake by all kinds of clangs and bangs as the NPC mechanics in her shop worked tirelessly to keep the squadrons running, especially as a massive shipment of experimental and captured equipment had been shipped to Canaveral over the past few days.

Some of those bits of equipment were quite small – a pair of MIG-21F-13s for one, that Lisbeth had decided would be cannibalised to keep the already high hour MIG-21s that LLENN and Pitohui flew in the air… eventually, anyway – whilst others had completely baffled her how they'd been captured in the first place – the Victor refuelling tanker was the key suspect in her confusion there! – and a third category for "things she was absolutely calling dibs on" – the pair of Su-24s and MIG-25Ps fit that one to a tee – had been added when she truly saw the haul of equipment, but alas, she was still human, so sleep was necessary.

That sleep had not helped one iota when a shipping container had been bought into her workshop, marked as "Salvaged parts – Hawker Hunter FGA.9 XG2?". She'd felt a cold chill run down her spine at that, as she had heard that Koharu had gone missing – presumed KIA, she had been told – but to have actual, irrefutable proof in front of her?

She wished she hadn't woken up now.

The wreckage contained was badly mangled in ways that only an impact with water could've produced. At a high enough speed, water stopped acting like a liquid… and more like a solid; it would hit less like water and more like concrete. This was nowhere near that high of a speed; the wings had sheared off, and the fuselage was broken in half.

Given how the bodies of players disappeared almost instantly after death – something to with an age rating, she reckoned despite how dumb that now sounded - that had told her something she hadn't wished to know; that one of her friends was now gone, and all they had to remember her was the destroyed Hunter, and whatever belongings were still left in her bunk.

Finding out that the rest of her friends had also been detained for their role in an unsanctioned mission to Sapin also hadn't helped her mood any. She'd have asked what they had all thought they were doing when they decided that was a good idea, but she was sure the answer was "vengeance", and she wasn't entirely sure she blamed them…

Though she had realised just how terrifying of a force they all were when pooled together – they had done more damage to the Belkan Navy in one night, than had been done to their Navy in the entire war so far, and that was over the loss of a single pilot…

She didn't dare to imagine what would happen should multiple people die in a mission, because she assumed chemical weapons would be involved…

/-/

A few hours had passed, and Lisbeth felt herself needing the caffeine boost of about ten cups of coffee, such was the mountain of paperwork in front of her. Sometimes, she was thankful that both Silica and Eugeo were on top of this normally, because there was no way on Earth or Strangereal that she could've kept up on her own!

Just before lunch time though, she found herself being kept company by the resident Casanova-reject, who seemed to be just hovering around aimlessly…

"I can't believe they just let you out on parole… you literally committed about six war crimes…" Liz shook her head. Trust a military to decide that war crimes were fine when they benefitted them massively.

"We have an Asuna on our side." Sierra joked. "They didn't stand a chance."

"Any particular reason that you're hanging around here like a bad smell, anyway?" She asked, politely telling him to get lost.

"What? Can't I visit the frankly stunning mechanic who keeps us alive out here every now and again?" A hint he completely failed to pick up on, as he feigned offence. "Fine. I'm bored, and everyone's off doing their own stuff. Or other people." He admitted, looking like a petulant child, rather than the adult he was.

"And I'm busy too. Need to find some paperwork." She retorted.

"Need a hand?" He asked.

"If that's a euphemism, do remember I have a big hammer for dealing with troublesome nuts…" She warned him, slightly hoping for an excuse to make use of said hammer…

And of course, he had an answer for that too. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're into that sort of stuff, but no." He said, nary missing a single beat. "I meant if you need any help looking through the paperwork."

She shrugged. Any help was better than none, she supposed… even if it was a Casanova wannabe asking. "If you're offering."

"What are you looking for, anyway?" He looked over several files before inhaling sharply. "And dear god, woman, haven't you heard of alphabetising things!" He muttered, looking through yet more files across his side of the desk.

"Records for Koharu's aircraft. Alice told me what happened, so I know something failed. I just don't know what." She answered. "And they were alphabetised. I've been here all morning looking through them."

"So, we're looking for X-ray Golf Two-Twenty-Five then, got it."

"Err, yeah! You knew that off the top of your head?"

"Good with numbers. There was a reason our squadron was the best run on the Harrier, and you're looking at him."

"And oh so humble too…" She smirked at getting the last word in for once…

"Ahem, Miss "Best – and only – mechanic at Canaveral"." …Before he managed to take that off her and insert his own last words, before seemingly giving up on the paperwork. "What's even in the shipping container over there anyway? It just says parts for a Hunter 9… wait, XG2? Wasn't Koharu's aircraft XG225?" Sierra walked over to it, before looking opening the doors and taking his own look at the wreck.

"Yeah, that's…" When even the man with an answer for everything was shocked into silence, she knew just how grim of a sight it was, and that she wasn't overreacting. "Why did they send it here, anyway? To taunt us, or something?"

"Apparently, they want me to look over why she died."

"Uhh, drowning. Next question." He answered with a sense of nonchalance, as if they weren't discussing a deceased friend. She shot him a glare to show her disapproval of that way of talking, before they carried on.

"Yes, but she couldn't get out. There's, like, four ways she could've… yet she didn't. One not working is a defect, two is bad luck, anything more than that is… well."

He addressed the tap-dancing elephant in the room. "You think someone sabotaged it?"

"Why else would everything go wrong?" She asked.

"Bad maintenance? That she panicked slightly? That she resigned herself a little too quickly?" The American suggested, taking a seat on the corner of the table.

"I double checked the maintenance myself. That plane was spotless before it left!"

"Clearly." He looked over at the wreck, and even with her defence, she had to admit he had a point. She was confident in her work, sure, but she hadn't checked over every single part – that simply wasn't feasible. She'd checked everything she thought would prove important, and that had included the ejector seat.

If nothing else, she should've been able to eject. "Look, Liz, we aren't going to get anywhere speculating. We're going to need to start taking that wreck apart, and seeing what's inside it or more crucially, what isn't."

/-/

Removing the ejector seat and canopy was usually a fairly simple task on a Hunter – the canopy was on runners, after all, and as long as you disarmed the ejector seat, there was little risk of getting shot through the roof whilst tweaking around the cockpit.

Unfortunately, the seat was badly damaged, and getting to anything was an exercise in defying death itself for the pair.

Eventually though, they had been able to remove the canopy and get a closer look at the rails it slid along, and to Lisbeth's horror, the rail had pits running along it. Pitting usually occurred with the grinding of unlubricated metal on another unlubricated metal surface, with the harder surface grinding away the softer surface, but it was usually a slow process; a process she should've noticed long before it got that bad.

Had she really missed something that obvious?

"Uhh, Liz, I may be about to eat humble pie about earlier." Sierra admitted, an annoyed look on his face momentarily.

"I thought you were sure it wasn't sabotage…" She taunted.

"Yeah, well, I was also sure that Jet and Kureha would get together, and I was very wrong on that one too. Cost me 5000 credits too." He grumbled, before pointing to one of the more extreme pits on the rail, one that simply didn't look right to her. "Tell me that was done by fatigue, seriously. It looks like someone took a Dremel to it, don't it?"

He was right – the shape of the pitting looked way off, given it was almost a triangle cut into the rail, rather than the semi-circular pitting she'd have been expecting from fatigue wear or material damage…

Holy shit, someone had cut that.

As much as she'd been adamant it hadn't been her fault that Koharu was gone, she'd not bothered to confront the alternative possibility either, despite suggesting it.

Someone was sabotaging the aircraft at Canaveral.

Someone wanted them dead.

For the first time, she'd seen the strange look of smug affability disappear off Sierra's face, replaced with a look of dawning horror. "Someone wanted this to look like an unhappy accident, didn't they?"

"I think so, yeah. We should keep looking though, just in case."

And so they did.

Disassembling the ejector seat discovered that the seat was deactivated; the rockets would simply not fire as part of the fire control mechanism had been severed. The same went for the canopy jettison system; it had been tampered with, to make sure it didn't operate as intended. A closer look deeper into the cockpit for a crash axe that Liz was sure was there revealed nothing – although that had led to a disagreement between her and the American, as they argued over whether there should've been one there in the first place. Whatever the answer was, the result was the same – no crash axe, which took out another escape vector.

That had left only one possible option – her sidearm - which should, in theory, have been able to punch a hole through the canopy, and the answer for why she hadn't taken it had become obvious as they looked over the gunsight. A massive dent in the front ridge of the gunsight; quite clearly where her head had impacted during the ditching…

"Someone really wanted her dead, didn't they?" She asked quietly, horrified by what she'd discovered, and even more so by the idea that someone would want her dead, of all of them. Her Hunter had been no less secure than anyone else's aircraft, and it wasn't like Koharu went round making enemies either.

In fact, she'd have said that she was something of a social butterfly – very few people had anything bad to say about her, and even those that did were generally more of the kind who just wanted to be left alone.

Loners, but not the type to kill… probably.

Or at least, they weren't the type to do things with this level of calculation. More the type to get a gun, and well…

Thankfully, Sierra interrupted that train of thought. "We need to tell someone." He stated bluntly. "We don't know if they've done this to anyone else's planes, or even how many people we're dealing with."

Behind them, a clang put them both on high alert; Sierra reaching for his sidearm, whilst she grabbed the biggest breaker bar that she could find… only to turn round and find Sinon, having fell onto her backside trying to step away from them. "Jesus, Sinon! Could've tapped me on the shoulder…" She muttered, checking her heartbeat…

"S-sorry, but… are you saying someone sabotaged our planes?" The aquamarine haired girl asked, clearly in shock at that idea.

"Yeah."

She nodded, and a sterner look came across her face. That was the face of someone who was determined to get to the bottom of this, and who was not going to take no for an answer… "Then I am helping, Lisbeth. Someone killed my friend, and I do not take that lightly…"

"Intense." Sierra quipped, only to receive a breaker bar to the toes that she had "accidentally" dropped.

"Whoops, my hand slipped." She told him, almost inviting a rebuttal, before moving on. "But yeah, same here. We're finding who did this and locking them away."

"Too kind if you ask me." Sierra shrugged. "I'd be a-okay putting a bullet in their head and sticking them in a shallow grave. An eye for an eye, and all that…"

"I suppose you could live with yourself for doing that, could you?" The fact that Sinon was still a fair bit shorter than the American, but still managed to make herself look big enough to stand on his level (metaphorically speaking, anyway), was testament to her anger at that point. "Because it isn't something you can live with yourself for!" Sinon told him bluntly, and in her eyes, there was look of both anger… and a sadness she'd never seen anyone express before. "And the saying is "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind", in case you didn't know. It's saying how wrong that type of thinking is!"

"Uhh huh. Moving on…" Sierra looked away awkwardly, like a child scolded by a teacher for something minor, rather than an adult being scolded for suggesting executing someone. "Whatever we do when we catch them, we still need to catch them first."

The atmosphere fell silent again, as all three stopped to think. Finding out what they'd done was the easy bit; finding out who'd done it was considerably less easy, and it wasn't as if they would've filled out the paperwork really, was it?

Besides, had they filled out the paperwork, Silica would absolutely have seen it – the young girl was almost freakishly good at spotting even minute details that were incorrect…

Sinon was the first to break that silence though, "Something Tiese told me yesterday makes me think she walked in on whoever was doing it. She said they'd told her to "keep quiet, or they'd make her sorry". Might be nothing though, but…"

"Worth asking her about. Certainly, it sounds like she saw something she wasn't supposed to." Sierra agreed.

/-/

After a quick search of the base, Sierra and Sinon had made their way to Tiese's hut, whilst Lisbeth continued to check the other aircraft for similar problems or damage... "Remember, she's terrified. Please try not to make her any more on edge…" Sinon told the American, who rolled his eyes.

"I'll be good, don't worry." He told her, though there was a clear annoyance at her telling him what to do. Regardless, she knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, Tiese answered the door.

"Tiese, it's me. Have you got a few minutes?"

"Of-of course. What's up, Sinon? And… oh, Captain!" Sinon sighed, as her fellow pilot offered the American a salute, whilst he clearly did his best not to look too satisfied with himself. He failed miserably, in her opinion.

"Sorry, it's not a social visit." Sierra told her. "Sinon mentioned something about you seeing something the other day, and we just want to pick your brains for a few minutes."

"N-no! I mean, I saw nothing, I promise you!"

"Tiese, whatever they told you, or however they threatened you, Koharu died because of them. Others might die because of them…" Sinon explained, and she didn't miss the horrified expression on Tiese's face. Both Ronye and Tiese had spent a fair amount of time around Koharu, and she would have easily called them friends. To know that whoever she saw, was responsible for their friend's death…

"I didn't know what she was doing. I just saw her walking away with some tools, before she threw me into a wall and threatened me with a saw. Told me she was never there, else…"

"She'd make use of that saw, right." Tiese didn't answer but nodded in agreement. Sinon felt a rising anger that she tried to fight back, but before anything else could happen, she was reminded that she had the human embodiment of "to the point" there with her.

"Did you know her?" Sierra asked.

"No, not really. I only barely recognised her. White hair, tanned skin… and purple eyes, I think?"

Sierra pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Doesn't ring any bells, but we've not been here that long. Any ideas, Sinon?"

"I think I know who she's talking about, but I can't say I know her by name." Sinon recognised her by description – a girl who helped Lisbeth out sometimes and kept mostly to herself. About the only person who she'd ever seen her talking to was a very pale boy, with very light blonde hair, almost to the point of it being white… not that she knew who that was either.

As she thought on for a second, she heard a small noise outside, almost like a squeaking noise, and looked at Sierra to ask if he'd heard it too. The contemplative looks on his face up to that point had become a grimace, telling her all she needed to know.

"Maybe she's wrong though, Stress does funny things to a person, doesn't it?" Sierra hastily wrote something on the paper he'd been using to note things down.

Someone's outside.

That squeaking noise – that was a yelp that had been silenced quickly, and they'd moved to the front door, and were now eavesdropping on them.

Another written note telling them to get down, and Tiese found herself moving off to one side of the room, whilst Sinon ducked underneath a windowsill. Sierra, on the other hand, walked over towards the door, his hand on his gun as he did so…

In the few moments before the door swung open, the atmosphere in the room was tense; no one knew exactly what to expect outside – for all they knew, it could've been a bloodbath out there, and no one had chance to scream for help…

Sierra opened the door carefully, keeping himself as small of a target in the doorframe as was possible for someone nearly six foot tall, and the sight he opened the door to was not a pleasant one:

The girl that Tiese described, slightly damp and scratched up, holding her standard issue M1911 to Ronye's head, the barrel pointed squarely at her temple…

In that brief moment, Sinon felt herself freeze. Every single muscle in her body tensed up as if they remembered what had happened eight years ago. The terror of being held at gunpoint, then the inevitable crack of gunfire…

"Let her go." Sierra snarled.

"Put the gun away, there's a good dog." She sneered at him, with an unrivalled sense of condescension in her voice. "Else I have to splatter her pretty little brains across the door." She fought hard not to think back to that scene again – blood splattered against the wall, as a dying man pointed at her accusingly…

"I repeat. Let. Her. Go."

"And I repeat, for the hard of thinking, only if you put the gun away too." She answered, rolling her eyes.

The tensest seconds of her life passed by, and Sierra was first to back down, moving his hand off his gun, and to the back of his neck.

The girl laughed arrogantly. "Not just your boss with the hero complex, is it? Couldn't stand watching a pretty young woman suffer, could you?" She spat. "Pig."

"Rather be a pig, than a murderous bitch like you, thanks." Sierra rebuked angrily. As he did, she felt herself looking for any way possible to break the standoff; only to spot a pink dot heading their way…

A pink dot that Sierra had noticed too, given his entire mannerisms changed. Gone was the cornered dog that he had been before, but now a smug smirk came to his face. A smirk that evidently filled this girl with rage too… "Oh please, that was self-defence…" She rolled her eyes, as if the idea of murdering someone was just a routine to her…

"You know something, ya weren't quite as thorough as you thought." Sierra grinned, and the pink dot became rather more apparent behind her; a pink dot that was in fact a very angry (and soaked) looking Lisbeth, wielding a rather big metal rod…

"How do you-" The girl went to ask, before the rod made contact with the side of her head, knocking her unconscious immediately, and almost sending her flying…

"Told ya." Sierra shrugged, as he walked out of the door frame. "It's safe now, you can come out." Without any words, Tiese had rushed over to a horribly shaken Ronye, with both girls hugging, thankful for the last-minute rescue. Sierra, on the other hand, walked over to Lisbeth, and immediately started flirting… "You don't look so hot."

"That bitch tried to kill me!" Lisbeth shouted angrily. "Shot at me, then set off the oxygen extinguishers I installed to try and blow me up! Luckily, the water ones kicked in too!"

"You'll live. Even if you do look like you've been in a category 5." Sinon couldn't help but agree with him on that one – Lisbeth was never the most well-kept person, but even by her standards, she looked as if something had gone horribly wrong. She was soaked, covered in oil of what looked like a hundred varieties, and slightly singed…

"Is… is she dead?"

"Nah. Just out cold." Sierra told them. "Though she'll have a nasty headache when she wakes up. Everyone else alright?"

"Y-yeah." Tiese answered, trying to comfort the very clearly shaken Ronye.

"Make sure she doesn't do anything, and for the love of god, don't let her get another gun." Sierra instructed them. "Cap's apartment is just over the way, and I know for a fact he has rope and cuffs in the apartment." The look of sheer confusion at that comment that both Tiese and Ronye pointed his way was something to behold…

"I don't think any of us needed to know that detail, thank you." She told him, a look of disgust on her face at the implication there.

"Just keep an eye on her."

/-/

That evening was spent explaining what was going on to the Commander, whilst the young lady who'd attacked Liz, threatened Tiese and held Ronye hostage, was held in custody… at gunpoint, just to be on the safe side.

"That is concerning, to know we had a spy on the base." Fanatio stated.

"Why though?" Diavel asked. "It's not like the 23rd are anything more than a standard combat unit?"

"They weren't spying on us. They were sabotaging us. If they were spying on us, they wouldn't have been tampering with stuff. We wouldn't have known until we caught them in the act that way."

"I hate to say it, but Sierra's right. If they were after info, it'd have been an in-out job. Nah, they killed someone to do something, and right now, our only answers are locked up in a cell being uncooperative." Jet explained in frustration, before the noise of starting engines interrupted them.

"Does everyone hear that?"

"This is the cells, she's escaped! The guards are dead!" Panicked radio chatter crackled over the frequency.

"Shit! Go to-"

"This is Lisbeth, one of them has stolen a MIG-25. Sinon and I are in pursuit of them."

/-/

Quite possibly this was the strangest chase in history, Sinon thought as she taxied the Crossbow across Canaveral with a deft touch, if she did say so herself. There was no real room for error here as they were already at least a minute behind the Foxbat.

In any other chase, one minute wouldn't be too much of a head start, but when speeds of up to Mach 3 were involved, it meant they could be at least a hundred miles behind the target, and whilst the Crossbow was fast… it wasn't able to keep up with a Foxbat at full boost.

Now on the runway, she opened the throttles to the twin YJ93s and felt herself pushed back into the seat as nearly 60,000 pounds of force propelled the YF-108 along the runway and up to the take-off speed of 165 knots.

"Lifting off, Black Blade Five."

As the Crossbow slipped its surly bonds into the air, Sinon was in full combat mode. She was focused on her target, and that target would not get away – she wouldn't let it.

The YF-108 was a little slower than the Foxbat; she could just about reach Mach 2.7 in a straight dash, the Foxbat could reach Mach 2.8 easily, and break through Mach 3 at serious risk to the engines, and manoeuvring wasn't going to be an issue here, straight line speed was all that mattered right now.

Sierra had told them that the escaped pilot had been stopped before they could get to an aircraft, and was again in custody, this time with a big concrete block in their lap, leaving just the other one attempting to flee, and all that stopped them from succeeding in that objective was herself and Lisbeth.

Passing through 20,000 feet, the -108 had passed through the sound barrier, trailing behind the Foxbat by about 50 miles.

Passing through 30,000 feet, the -108 was passing 1000mph, but still not gaining on the Foxbat.

It had taken up to 63,000 feet before she was approaching the Crossbow's top speed, and by this point, the MIG had opened the distance to 80 miles, and was still accelerating…

"Lisbeth, get a target lock." She asked, knowing that the -108's AN/ASG-18 radar set could indeed lock up a target at that distance.

"Uhh, shouldn't we be a bit closer – I know those Falcons are powerful, but we're still 85 miles behind it."

"Let me try something." Sinon pushed the nose of the Longbow down, the sensation reminding her of going over a humpback bridge, only at a much greater speed – the airspeed gauge spinning as the airspeed increased up to Mach 2.8, the buffeting increasing exponentially as she approached Mach 2.9. "Any faster, and we start coming apart." She told her, easing off the throttle slightly.

"Up to me now then, huh." She worked frantically to lock up the Foxbat in front as it continued to accelerate, though to no avail.

"Fifty miles to the border, girls. Hurry up!"

"Blade Five, Fox Three!" Liz pulled the trigger, and the behemoth of a missile dropped out from the bay beneath them into a dive to clear the aircraft, before it pulled up ahead of them and gave them a view few pilots would ever see – an AIM-47 under full power.

At the range the Foxbat was now at, 99 miles and putting the distance between them, Sinon could do little but hope the missile flew true, and that the Foxbat would slow down upon reaching Belkan airspace. Whatever distance they would be at, the time elapsed between firing and success, or failure felt like an eternity… in reality, it may as well have been an eternity in military aviation – one minute had elapsed when the dot disappeared from the scope.

"Girls… you just got a kill at 111 miles. He's off scope now, so I'm pretty sure that's a world record at least."

"Maybe I should tweak the missiles on this – see just how far we can actually hit something…" Lisbeth mused from the backseat, and she let out a sigh of relief.

It was over.

Finally.

"Uhh, you guys are still on a direct course for Belka, so… you've only got 20 miles." Sierra pointed out, and she pulled the YF-108 into the tightest turn she could manage – which, at Mach 3, meant it was coming dangerously close to crossing the border in a descending and decelerating turn. The airframe was never really rated for dogfighting, and given its sheer size, it probably wouldn't have been any good at it anyway, meaning it had a 5G structural limit imposed on it.

Lisbeth had told her that was purely so no one got smart ideas about dogfighting in one, but given the creaking of the wings in the turn, she wasn't so sure…

Thankfully, the turn back towards Canaveral was relatively short, and so, the wings stayed attached to the aircraft – though she did decide she would have Lisbeth give them an overhaul to ensure that would be the case as they carried on…

/-/

After some time had passed and the Crossbow had returned to the base, the decision had been taken to interrogate their surviving infiltrator. The room they were using for it had clearly once been a prison cell, though it had been a long time since had been used for that purpose – the bars on the windows were rusted beyond anything he'd ever seen, and he was fairly sure that trying to use the original door handle would end up with a trip to a doctor for a tetanus jab, so rusted was it – and it was now being reinforced by a very big metal rod across the door when they weren't in it.

What they had learned though, was the identity of the two infiltrators – mostly through letting the MPs look through their stuff. Both were pilots of the 23rd Fighter Squadron, and Diavel had confirmed as much, that they had been flying since the Fall of Rechlin some months earlier, and that their names were Notte and Rano.

Well, had been, in the case of Rano; the boy now scattered to the wind as a direct result of the destruction of the stolen Foxbat.

None of what they found had answered why they were trying to kill them though, and so, they had been forced to resort to interrogating the girl for that information.

"So, missy, you're going to tell us why you tried to kill us." Bercouli started the interrogation, though if they'd been expecting this to be a quick and easy task, they were sorely mistaken.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" The girl sneered back. "Then you'll be just as dumb as you are now. Maybe even more dumb, because you'll have killed your only lead." She smirked, knowing they wouldn't just take her out back and shoot her in the head.

"You killed one of our friends." Sierra reminded her.

"Innocent until proven guilty." She shrugged.

"You murdered two of the guards and injured five of the others. You attempted to murder Flight Lieutenant Arabel and Captain Shinozaki. This could take a while to list all the shit you pulled; you know?" Bercouli reminded her.

"Oh please, a good lawyer could get me off on technicalities for all of those. You detained me illegally, you know."

"She's not going to talk." Itsuki pointed out, an uninterested look on his face from his side of the room.

"Well, at least one of you has a brain…" She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I am not defending you. I am saying we should take more drastic action to deal with you." It was subtle, but the look on her face was shifting to one of dawning terror; that some of them actually would harm her in more brutal ways than simply executing her…

"Itsuki, much as blowing her kneecaps off sounds therapeutic right now, we're trying not to break the laws of war here." Jet told him, though his mention of the laws of war seemed to ignite something in the girl.

"Did the civilians in St. Calippo see it that way too? As they burned, and they screamed…" The girl snarled back. "You want to know why I tried to kill you? Because all of you, you play the heroes and everyone else never matters… much less those on the ground. People die around you, and you don't care…"

"She's lying." Itsuki answered immediately. "Do you want to know how I know this?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because Koharu died the day before. If your anger was truly about the attack on St. Calippo, then you would not have killed her, would you? Predicting the future is awfully tough, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, you don't understand, do you? I didn't hate her, I didn't single her out to die… I wanted you all to die. I hate everything about you bastards! Everything that you symbolise, all that hope, that shit about being the best… I wanted to destroy it. And guess what? I did. She died, as human as the rest of us. Face it, I won."

"How pathetic. To kill someone for something as petty as jealousy." Fanatio scowled at the girl.

"Shut up, bitch! You lot aren't any better! You killed people too!" Notte snapped back, clearly losing it now…

"I've met people like you before, those who just want to spite people and don't care about the ashes they leave in their wake." Bercouli said, remarkably calmly.

"Shut up old man! Do you have any idea what it's like to suffer in agony as your body atrophies, as you constantly get given false hope, get lied to that "oh it'll get better, we promise" and that "last time was a fluke, we promise" … Face it, that little bitch had it coming!

"For what? Daring to live a normal life in front of you? For daring not to be a hateful, bile filled wretch like you? Maybe life dealt you a shit hand, Notte, but life's what you make of it… and what you made was a prison for yourself. Quite frankly, you don't deserve help, you deserve pity."

"Just like the rest of them." She snarled. "You want to punish me, then kill me! You took away the one person that understood me, and now you expect me to cry that I didn't mean any of it!? That I swear I won't kill anyone else, that I won't just-"

"Oh shut the hell up already."

"You wanna be the heroes? Then kill me! It'll be the kindest thing to do-"

"Kindest?" Jet almost snorted in derision. "Because yeah, that would be the kindest thing to do – put you out of your misery. End all that suffering that is your pitiful little life…" Sierra looked over at his captain, one of his best friends, and saw a darkness in his eyes that he'd never seen there before. "But unfortunately for you, I don't think any of us are feeling too kind. I'll offer you a merciful way out though…"

"And what does that mean then?"

"We throw you in the deepest, darkest hole in the ground that we can find, lock it and you away from the world, and leave you alone with your thoughts for as long as you can take it. We'll spare you, but don't you dare think for one moment I won't make you wish for the release of death every single second of your continued existence…"

That threat had soon shut her ranting up, he noticed. Not only that, but she looked genuinely terrified of him, and for once, Sierra could absolutely see where she was coming from. That wasn't an aura of anger around him, that was something else entirely…

He spared a glance at Itsuki and noticed the concern on his face too.

Something that even Bercouli had noticed too, as he dismissed him from the room. "Captain. Leave her to me."

"Fine." He muttered under his breath as he walked out.

"I shall check up on him." Itsuki nodded to him as he left the room in pursuit.

"He was right though. That's what you'll be looking at if you don't cooperate with us."

"Then I suppose I had better get used to talking to myself, hadn't I?" She maintained a sneer at the three remaining people in the room.

"Suit yourself. Fanatio, Sierra, with me please." The three of them left the room as Notte mocked them for their failure to get any information out of her. "Well, now we can use other methods to get her to talk."

It didn't take a genius to work out what Bercouli was suggesting, and that unnerved him a little bit. Was torture really a thing in this game… and why was an NPC of all people suggesting it?

He looked over to see Fanatio, ever the stoic, looking just as troubled at that development as he was. Something told him that either she'd seen this done before, or more horrifically, it had been done to her – and based off what Eydis and Liena had told them about the Rectan Conflict, he really wouldn't have been surprised at the latter…

"Now, I'm going to go get a drink, captains. I'll be back in a few hours to see if she's talked then." The Commander said, seemingly apathetic to what he had just ordered.

He wanted to say that this was war at the end of the day, and she had killed someone, so it was hardly like she was an innocent, but… this? It didn't feel like information extraction – and even if it was, he would have pointed out that it was scientifically proven that torture didn't work anywhere near as well as people thought it did – it felt more like cruelty for the sake of it…

Was that what they were fighting for?

That evening, that thought was all that was on Sierra's mind, even whilst he spent the evening laughing and joking with the rest of the group in celebration of Sinon's record setting kill…

Chapter Text

“Alert! Alert! All staff to briefing immediately.”

Kirito found himself wondering just what the hell was going on that required everyone to attend a briefing first.

If they were under attack, they’d be scrambled immediately.

If not, then surely they’d be following normal procedures… and why was it just staff being called?

His thinking (and running) was soon interrupted though as he got into the room. “Any idea what’s going on Kirito-kun?” Asuna asked, and he had to admit he knew as much as she did in this situation – that being very little.

“Must be some kind of situation developing. What kind though, I don’t know.”

“Least we get ta fly again, probly!” Argo admitted, and he couldn’t help but the feel the same way. He was going mad being relegated to the ground and just flying the most basic of training missions; especially now they’d been able to upgrade from their battered F-4E to a brand-new F-14A Tomcat, one that Liz had handily made some modifications to.

Those modifications had been mostly centred around the engines – the notorious TF30 – to reduce the odds of the engines simply just stalling and sending the pair into a terrifying and unrecoverable flat spin, one that they’d both become familiar with having been sat down by the Solitaire trio to watch Top Gun, because, and he quoted Sierra here: “Don’t be Goose.”

Not “don’t be a goose” (as little sense as that made in any context, let alone their current one), but “Don’t be Goose.”. All had become apparent when they’d watched the movie, and Kirito wondered what it said about him that he now dreaded the moment they would have to eject…

Either way, it had been nearly a month since they had been flying anything but training missions, and he was getting a bit tetchy – they had a new toy, and he wanted to make the best use of it!

“I think we can all agree there. I, for one, will not miss being grounded…” Honestly, the fact that Alice hadn’t actually stolen an aircraft simply to go and fly, regardless of instructions not to, was a serious testament to how much of a calming influence Eugeo was on her, he thought to himself…

“Sorry to call you all here on such short notice, but there’s a situation developing in the Southern Ocean, and we’re expecting the squadron to be called up on short notice.” Bercouli explained to an image of a small-ish island on the projector, as the rest of the group began to filter in. “This is the island nation of Adamas, about 50 miles off Leasath. It’s small, geographically insignificant, and for the past three years, it’s held the title of “most coup’d nation in the world”. Today though, it’s run by a brutal dictatorship that calls themselves The Administration, and they’ve just made their big move.”

The image on the projector changed to a picture of an older Boeing 737, probably a very early model given it had its engines mounted in long, cigar-shaped pods under the wings, and Kirito already felt a tinge of dread at this. The last time they’d be called to assist an airliner was Flight 668, and they all knew how that one had gone.

Horribly.

“Osean Southern Airways Flight 701 was en route from Oured to St. Carver in Aurelia this morning, when the pilots reported a problem onboard, and diverted to the main airport on the island, Telos Major.”

Ignoring that Telos Major sounded less like an airport, and more like a sci-fi planet, he was trying to work out what was so suspicious about that. Airliners diverted all of the time, and it didn’t sound as if it was shot down either…

Before he could say anything though, Eugeo beat him to it. “Err sir, planes divert all of the time, what’s so unusual about this one?”

“True, it isn’t. This, on the other hand, is.” Bercouli tapped a button on the table, and a slightly distorted voice started to play.

“This is a message to the Kingdom of Belka, and the Osean Federation that sits on by idly as we are massacred… this aircraft and its occupants belong to the Free Rectan Organisation! Our demands are reasonable; simply that Recta is recognised as a sovereign state, and that Belka leaves our territory immediately! Should they fail to be met by midnight… we will execute a hostage every hour. Any intervention to prevent this will result in retribution… the Administration promise us that much…”

He didn’t need to speak revolutionary/terrorist/freedom fighter to know that was not good news.

“So, what are the odds of them actually listening to them?”

“None. Which is why I’m doing the briefing, not Diavel. He’s spent all mornin’ trying not to throw somethin’ at the big bosses.” Bercouli explained. “Anyway, we’ve got a bit of a plan, and-”

“With all due respect sir… Free Rectan Organisation? Weren’t you on the same side?” Sierra asked, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

“We had the same goal, yes – to drive the Belkans out – but we were not on the same side. We went about it in very different ways, Captain. The RLO, that was us, were more of a standing army. We followed the laws of war… mostly.” No one missed the pointed glares at Pitohui from the Rectans. “The Free Rectans on the other hand were terrorists. Plain and simple. They didn’t target military targets, so much as they’d aim for civilians; anyone with a link to the Belkans was fair game to them.”

Kirito remembered what was often said about terrorists – one man’s terrorist was another’s freedom fighter, after all. In this case though, he struggled to really understand how anyone would believe these people were freedom fighters, and not just glorified thugs with a smidge of xenophobia thrown in for good measure…

“The FRO are almost as bad as the Belkans. No, honestly, they might be worse.” Eydis said, an unusually dark tone to her voice. “The Belkans attacked us, they killed us, but they rarely attacked civilians. The FRO targeted anyone – even children were fair game to them.”

“Eydis, you don’t have to-”

“I helped at an orphanage when I wasn’t flying. One of the kids there, well, she reminded me of Alice a bit, and I think we’d become friends. She was only a child, they all were. None over thirteen, just kids. At some point, they must have worked out I was in the RLO, and… well, the orphanage was destroyed.”

Finding out that they had targeted civilians purely for connections to Belka was horrible, but discovering that they had targeted children? Not even for connections to Belka, but for connections to a rival organisation?

That was unforgivable to him.

“Regardless, the FRO aren’t our concern today. Their actions are, and we’ve been asked to overfly the island and gather information for a special forces mission to go in and rescue the hostages. Preferably before we find out they released half a hostage or somethin’.”

“Reconnaissance, then.” Asuna asked, receiving a nod.

“Just recon, yeah. High Command have been very clear on that – we’re on restricted ROE here, especially after St Calippo. No more international incidents, so shoot back only if you have absolutely no other choice, got it?”

To everyone’s surprise, the first voice of dissent and discomfort did not come from any of the usual suspects, but rather Fanatio, who seemed considerably more concerned by the actual mission than the backdrop it was taking place against. “Commander, Adamas is… well, it is a fortress, there is no denying that.” She pointed to a diagram of the island with a lot of symbols on it, and the group took a closer look at what those symbols represented…

Known air defences.

That was a lot of them, too. Long range S-200 batteries surrounded the island in all directions, backed up by S-75 and S-125 batteries to defend against closer in targets, whilst a number of 2K12 Kub and 9K33 Osa mobile launchers to deal with anything inside their airspace, not to mention a variety of anti-aircraft guns of almost every calibre, including some truly ancient ones – the fact that they had a FlaK 88 around the capital showed they really were just throwing everything at any potential threat.

Yeah, that was a fortress, he had to agree with Fanatio there. The worst part though was that that was just their known air defences, which likely meant it didn’t include anything they were speculated to have received or anything they simply didn’t know had been received, not to mention the Air Force that was marked down at the bases X-2 and X-3, though with no mention of composition… which meant they were a “known unknown” as Argo had once called something.

They knew they had them, but they had no idea how many they had, or what they might have…

“Almost any kind of rescue looks suicidal against that much of a defence.”

“That’s why we’ll be making the hole for the special forces to go in through too.” Bercouli told them, and he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about that idea.

The idea that they were now bait for an air defence network that would’ve made most planners drool…

“Besides, we have a few aces up our sleeves too. Follow me…”

Unless said ace was an SR-71 Blackbird, he wasn’t too confident it would make much difference against that much of a defensive net…

/-/

Inside the hangar that they had followed Bercouli to were two aircraft front and centre. The first was clearly an F-4 Phantom that had been heavily modified, and… “What the hell did you do to our old Phantom, Liz!”

“Relax, I just gave it a few boosts. Demineralised water for pre-compressor cooling and some new intakes to make a more efficient airflow into the J79s. Trust me, this thing is the fastest thing on base, unless someone’s got an Oxcart.” Liz explained, ignoring the indignant huffing from Sinon from the speed comment, and he took a look over the airframe that had once been his Phantom.

The most obvious and visually intrusive change was the pair of conformal fuel tanks embedded into the spine that no doubt housed the water used for cooling the engines, whilst the intakes had been replaced with a far larger design than he was used to seeing on the Phantom, no doubt to accommodate the boosted engines too, but by far the most noticeable change was the nose…

Gone was the AN/APG-12 radar and M61 bulge that they had gotten used to, replaced by a single huge camera in the now reshaped nose that gave Lisbeth’s “Super Phantom” a rather unflattering design at the front, as if someone had given it a rather unpleasant looking rhinoplasty…

“Cruise speed of Mach 2.4, and a dash speed of Mach 3.2. I think I outdid myself here… honestly, this can outrun a Foxbat at full chat now, I reckon…”

“And you might need that.” A new voice said, and everyone turned to face them. The new person was a girl about their age with messy ginger hair, no doubt another player. “Adamas have a squadron of Foxbats, just waiting to go hunting.”

“Ah, I forgot to introduce you. Captain Takamiya, 313^th Reconnaissance Squadron, welcome to the 23^rd, 24^th and 25^th Fighter Squadrons. She’s on secondment, we needed a recon specialist and…”

“They sent me. Name’s Philia, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you guys here, so I’ll be looking forward to watching you-is that an RF-4X?!” She exclaimed suddenly, almost running up to the Super Phantom in glee.

“Alright, who had that on their bingo card?” Jet asked, a tone of amusement in his voice before a swift jab to the ribcage from Kureha shut him up again.

“Uhh, sorry, I’ve just never seen one up close and personal.” Philia apologised. “Still, I don’t know if that’ll be enough to break through. It’s fast, but you aren’t outrunning an S-200 in that.”

“Yup, so here’s the second of our new toys…” Liz pulled a cover off the aircraft underneath to reveal… a Victor bomber? A modified Victor at that, the wing mounted pods being enlarged slightly, and the refuelling equipment removed, replaced with two new pods in their place. “The EDKB-72A Victor. Blame Command for the designation, not me.”

“So… it’s a former bomber and former tanker with a load of lumps and bumps. What exactly are we using it for?”

“You know the ECM gear in the Prowler, the souped-up ones you guys made up for St Calippo?”

“Yes…” Sierra grimaced, and he reminded himself of how powerful the bodged AN/ALQ-99 pod on the Prowler had been back then in jamming the Belkans…

“I scaled it up. Massively, takes up the entire bomb bay now.” She ignored the looks of shock on any of the mechanically minded members of the squadrons faces and carried on. “That thing can blast electronics at 250 miles in the right mode and fry an egg at ten paces too. Or a sparrow…” Liz looked hesitantly at the electronic warfare aircraft… despite being stood next to it.

“The missile?” Bercouli asked, now suddenly quite hesitant too around the harmless looking aircraft…

“Uhh, no. The bird. Upside, it now has an anti-bird strike system… technically!” Kirito could imagine it did, given it apparently had a “do not enter” radius now, and one that was big enough that a particularly unlucky bird had been used to prove the effectiveness of the system…

“Umm, Liz? It won’t kill us… will it?” Yuna asked, clearly also a little hesitant at the system’s effectiveness. For once, he really hoped Liz was exaggerating her own abilities…

“Probably not, but just in case… the cockpit is lead lined.” Liz answered quickly. Too quickly, in his opinion.

“Uhh, can we move onto something less likely to prematurely end our lives please?”

“Sure, here’s the next gadgets. Drones.” Liz pulled another tarpaulin off. The first drone looked less like the drones they were familiar with from the news – in fact, it looked more than a bit like it had been slapped together with whatever spare parts Liz had borrowed off abandoned airframes, with the rest being junk found in the bin. The other was a lot sleeker, and bore a resemblance to a scaled-up missile of sorts, though with much longer wings, almost like a glide bomb…

Still, she looked  almost more pleased than he’d ever seen her before at them, so he wasn’t going to insult her by saying what at least one of them looked like… “I call them Liz-1 and Liz-2.”

“Liz, per chance, did you ever appear on Scrapheap Challenge?”

“They aren’t scrap!” Liz defended her designs. “Well, the Liz-2 isn’t. Liz-1 is a bit rubbish, I’ll grant you. It was only meant to be a disposable target drone anyway.”

“So… what are we using them for?” He asked her.

“They’ll be your making you an entrance to get through the air defence network. The Liz-2 isn’t fast, but with the right lenses, it’ll certainly give them something to shoot at that isn’t you guys and tell us what they’re shooting at them with.” Liz explained. “The Victor’ll carry the Liz-2s up on wing pylons and release them to pursue after the Super Phantom. You guys will have a rudimentary data link set up to the drones, and the drones back to the Victor, which means we’ll be able to gather information almost instantly.”

“Rudimentary?” Bercouli asked, a little insulted by the insinuation that the most advanced tech in the world was rudimentary. He could understand Liz’s description of it though – when you came from a world where stuff like the F-35 was fast becoming a standard, and data could be shared between pilots in a formation faster than a human could realistically speak, it was hard not to see such a bit of technology as rudimentary by comparison…

“Why aren’t we just transmitting the data back to the Victor?” He asked, asking the most obvious question first.

“Range. The datalink isn’t quite stable enough to transmit over hundreds of miles, but we’ve got it up to twenty miles flawlessly. Hence the drones forming a chain to transmit back to the Victor.”

“So… we’re leading a load of drones over one of the most heavily defended airspaces in the world, unarmed and with no kind of escort whatsoever, and expect them not to kill us.” Kirito answered, unimpressed with the idea. The only positive was that most of the equipment was relatively expendable, and didn’t involve having a human in them, just a basic flight computer and a sensor package to sniff out the SAMs.

Hopefully, it was just SAMs they were dealing with though, and Philia was wrong about the squadron of Foxbats waiting for them, else the routine recon mission was going to go horribly wrong. First though, they would have to get to a nearer base, else they would be flying a nearly six hour round trip…

/-/

The early evening fell, and after an afternoon of hopping the Super Phantom between bases along the path of the Bay of Oured, before reaching an airbase outside Bana City at 19:55 local time, with the aircraft hooked up to a tanker to keep its tanks topped up and ready to go whenever the mission was declared a go.

Those “delivery” flights had been nothing special, and he hadn’t really tested the RF-4X out, other than the basics. He’d ensured that he hadn’t done anything too stressful to the airframe and hadn’t really climbed above 15,000 feet or gone above 400 knots in the cruise, just to ensure nothing would break before the mission.

Now though, the Super Phantom was sat waiting on the active runway at Bana City, awaiting clearance to depart on the mission. It had taken thirty-five minutes before the mission was declared a go at 20:30. Unlike many of their earlier night missions, the lighter evenings had drawn in, and so, they would be taking off into a still light sky, rather than in total darkness as they often had done.

“Everything configured back there, Argo?” He asked, knowing that Argo had set them as soon as the aircraft had been powered down for refuelling.

“Yup, cameras set Kii-bou, datalink set up on our side, thumbs are twiddlin’.” She replied, a tone he recognised very much as boredom…

“Good.” He answered. “Black Blade Lead, Tower, requesting take off permission.”

“Black Blade, permission granted.” The tower answered, and he opened the throttles of the souped-up twin J79s. In normal circumstances, the Phantom already had impressive performance off the line, but these were something else entirely!

He wasn’t so much pushed against his seat, as he became one with it, the acceleration being almost insane when he thought how the F-4 normally accelerated!

“Rotating.” Around halfway down the runway, he pulled the Super Phantom into the air, and pulled the throttles back from the afterburner gate to preserve fuel. Even with a trip via a KC-135, it was a relatively long run for the Phantom, and he didn’t imagine that the increased speed had done much to help the range out any…

“Liz-chan weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout this thing, was she? Blimey!” Argo laughed from the back seat. “How’s she feel on the stick, Kii-bou?”

“About the same as a normal Phantom. Bit more force required to lift off, but otherwise, no different to our old Phantom.”

“Black Blade, this is Mother Hen.” He really didn’t like that callsign, even if it was very accurate for their mission. “We’re on station, circling over Lake Hoe now.” Unlike them, the Victor had flown direct to the staging area, with only a brief diversion to refuel from a KC-135 circling around Oured, and so, he imagined Liz’s crew were getting slightly bored of this mission now…

“Understood Liz. We’re just climbing out of Bana now, on station in fifteen minutes.”

“Mother Hen, Black Blade, this is Poltergeist. Do you read us?” Poltergiest was the special operations forces assigned to rescue the hostages onboard Flight 701, and the whole reason for this recon mission in the first place. From what had been revealed to them, they would be infiltrating the defence net aboard an HH-53 Pave Low, a larger helicopter used mostly for special operations such as this.

He couldn’t say he envied the pilots onboard Poltergeist:

They would have to keep a low profile, infiltrating some of the most heavily defended coastlines in the world, whilst trying not to get shot down, land at Telos Major, unload the Marines aboard and keep the Adamasians and FRO hostiles pinned down whilst everything hopefully went to plan… and then leave again, whilst the Marines stole an An-12 that a spy satellite had confirmed was there with all the hostages onboard.

If he was being completely honest, it made Liz’s plan sound just that little bit less ridiculous by comparison.

“Loud and clear, Poltergeist.”

“We’re over the Spring Sea now, ETA to target is 21:18.”

“Understood. Black Blade, you got that?”

“We understand Liz, we should be on station about two minutes before they enter the net.” With any luck, he reckoned, an aircraft breaking into their airspace at Mach 2.5 and accelerating should easily get and keep their attention away from them, whilst the helicopter snuck through the gaps that the Liz-1s made in the net…

“Got it. Mother Hen to all units, Rodeo Go.” Philia, onboard the Victor as a systems controller and analyst, called out. That call was the signal for them to commence a climb to 76,000 feet and accelerate to top speed, whilst the Victor launched the Liz-2 drones that would follow them.

“Ready, Kii-bou?”

“No, but I suppose it’s now or never, right?”

“That’s th’ spirit!” Argo joked, before he pushed the throttles through into afterburner. If he had thought the power providing on take off was immense, he was not at all prepared for the power delivery that the J79-Liz-3 (Liz’s designation system needed some work, he’d decided) would give out when it was really pushed to the gates…

“Holy-!” Argo exclaimed, as the Phantom began to accelerate to transonic speeds even without the afterburner igniting. It had taken him a few seconds to pull the nose up through the sound barrier, and stabilise the climb as the Super Phantom broke the sound barrier in a climb…

Not a shallow climb either, but one of nearly 40 degrees. Damn, Liz really had made a beast of a performer here!

/-/

After around 3 minutes, the RF-4X had reached the cruising altitude of 76,000 feet and Kirito had pushed the throttles wide open, allowing the boosted J79s to start to push the aircraft faster and faster, until the point when the Adamasian defences would be a speck to them – a still dangerous speck, but a speck, nonetheless.

It hadn’t taken long before the Super Phantom was cruising at Mach 2.4, and Kirito, allowing himself a brief moment to focus on something other than the mission, looked out the cockpit window to see the sky below. At 76,000 feet, the Phantom was cruising in the stratosphere, and the view from their position was something many would’ve paid an obscene amount of money to see…

The sky above was no longer light blue, but dark blue, approaching black, whilst the clouds they spent so often inside of or under, were so far below as to look like just streaks in the clear blue sky down there.

He struggled to find many positives of being stuck in ACES, but he couldn’t deny that there probably wasn’t too high of a likelihood he would ever have experienced this in any other situation!

“Ya coul’nt even pay fer that view, could ya Kii-bou?” Argo seemed similarly impressed by the sky around them.

“Some people get a view of a city from their desk… we get a view of the world.”

“Black Blade, this is Mother Hen. They’ve got you on radar, interceptors have been scrambled.” Philia advised them.

“Understood, Mother Hen. Keep us informed of their progress. Argo, get the cameras ready so we can make a quick exit.”

“Those MIGs are ‘bout the only thing in the world that might actually get up here, ya know?”

“Then we’ll just have to make their lives as hard as possible, won’t we?” He opened the throttles again, this time allowing the engines to produce the maximum amount of thrust possible in order to push the RF-4X up to its dash speed of Mach 3.2; still pretty close to the top speed of the MIG-25s that were likely being scrambled as they spoke, but at a point where the Foxbat would be tearing its own engines apart to reach them.

What concerned him more than the narrow performance gap was what weapons those Foxbats were equipped with – if they were carrying their usual loadout of four missiles; a pair of IR guided R-40s, and a pair of semi-active R-40s, then the Foxbats would struggle to reach them, though the missiles were still a big risk to them. If they were only carrying two missiles however, there was a chance they could actually reach their altitude, and he really didn’t want to find out what a dogfight at Mach 3 would look like…

“Black Blade, interceptors are in the air. Looks like they’re making haste after you, and the missile batteries are being ordered to stand down until they’re in firing range of you.”

“Why the heck would they do that?” Argo asked, mirroring his thoughts on the matter. The S-200 sites that they knew they had would be easily able to fire on them, even up here and at this speed, but it almost suggested some degree of arrogance, a belief that the interceptors were there to humiliate anyone mad enough to overfly Adamas…

“We aren’t sure either, but none of the decoys are being fired on either. We think they-hold on, Yuna, what’s that?”

“It’s on a Yuktobanian frequency. Just dialling it in… now.”

“Black Blade, we have a situation. Looks like the Yukes weren’t just sitting around idle either and they’ve launched their own attack on Telos Major.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ us, Phi-chan!”

“I wish I was. Poltergeist, this is Mother Hen, how copy?”

“Poltergeist, we’re approaching the target now. Is the airspace clear?”

“You’re heading into a three-way fight – the Yuktobanians have just shown up too!”

The next response was mostly inaudible, but of what Kirito could make out of the transmission – mostly swearing, but there were some words that could be broadcast in there too – they really weren’t happy to find that out.

“Black Blade, those MIGs are climbing fast. 45,000 feet and still climbing. ETA on them is within the next minute!”

Evidently, Philia’s timing was a little bit out as an alarm blared in the cockpit – one that he knew all too well… the missile alert. The Foxbats had already fired, and now they had precious little time to get the hell out of the way.

“Readying countermeasures, Kii-bou, work whatever magic you can to break the lock!” Argo told him, and he considered his options very quickly.

A high-G turn at this speed would likely rip the Phantom apart; the G-load combining with the significant friction on the airframe to disassemble the airframe and scatter it in every direction at the same time, which left only one option, an unthinkable one for a fighter pilot…

There was a saying in air combat – “speed is life, altitude is insurance” – and he was about to trade both advantages away to get them away from the incoming R-40s. He would roll the aircraft inverted and slam open the airbrakes, dropping the Phantom into a steep dive towards the earth, but at a lower speed than their Mach 3 dash. It wouldn’t be enough to allow him to get into a dogfight, but given that their plane carried no weapons, and (hopefully) the Foxbat pilots wouldn’t be stupid enough to get into a turning fight with anything slower than a space shuttle, there was no point in doing so anyway.

“Hold tight!” He shouted as he snapped the Phantom into the invert position and opened the underside mounted airbrakes.

Argo barely managed a squeak before the Phantom flipped over and fell fast. “Ay-AAHHHH!” She screamed, in a move that was out of character for her. Normally, she was much more collected than that, but he supposed flipping their plane over at Mach 2.9 and putting it into a nosedive was more than enough to terrify anyone!

Plummeting towards the earth at almost Mach 2.5 with the throttles closed, the altimeter went crazy, the needle spinning around the dial fast enough that it looked as if it would take off at any moment now!

The dive itself wasn’t the thing that worried him – the pullout was though. During the death-defying dive, he fought to turn his head to watch the wings carefully and hoped that the Super Phantom was as sturdy as its predecessor… it would need to be for the next bit!

“Black Blade, what’s going on?! You’re descending fast!”

“Tell-aghh-me summat I don’t-rragh-know!” Argo strained, as he pulled the stick back. With considerable force, he had managed to arrest the nosedive and pull the Phantom into a more controlled pullout, the wings pouring off vapour as they pulled almost 9G for around 10 seconds…

His weight increased ninefold, and he felt as if would fall through the floor of the aircraft, or that his neck would simply give up at the increased weight, all down to the significant force of gravity exerted onto them.

Thankfully though, the pullout was soon complete, and the Phantom returned to a somewhat more conventional attitude – nose up 5 degrees and climbing again. Argo, now recovered from being pressed into her seat at nine times the force of gravity, summed up the experience perfectly… “Holy shit.”

“You said it…” He panted, catching his breath back before the radio crackled into life again.

“Black Blade, come in! Kirito, Argo, are you two still there?”

“Yup, still alive. Just about, anyway. The Foxbats fired on us, so we had to take drastic action. Currently at 38,000 feet and climbin’.” Argo explained.

“Looks like the MIGs lost you in that dive. It’ll take them time to get into another position for an attack. I’d advise breaking away and heading back towards Bana at this time.”

“What about Poltergeist?”

“They’re engaged with the FRO, but it’s… well, there’s no nice way to put it, it’s a mess down there. The escape aircraft was destroyed by the FRO, and Adamasian fighter-bombers are being scrambled to attack them.” Philia explained. “We’re retasking the drones to attack the airbases, but that’s the best we can do. We’ll meet you back on the ground.”

A grim mood fell over the cockpit of the RF-4X as it continued to accelerate out of the danger zone. “Dammit.” He muttered to himself.

“I’m beginnin’ to think that airliners are just cursed in this game…” Argo grumbled in the backseat, and he found himself agreeing with her there.

/-/

Despite the mood surrounding them, the flight back towards Bana was relatively calm, with no more unwelcome interruptions by the Foxbat menace. About the only thing that had interrupted the normal feeling to the return was several spurious warnings about various systems, likely caused by damaged sensors during the 9G split-S, rather than anything actually wrong with the aircraft.

Even once they’d crossed through the busy airspace surrounding Bana and topped off at the waiting tanker over the Bay of Oured, it had still been routine, even if the various warnings were getting annoying...

That was until they were about 150 miles south of Canaveral, and another warning light came on, the fuel warning light for the central tank. “That can’t be right, can it?”

“Nah, we took on plenty at the tanker? Should still have an hour’s fuel left at least?” It was in that moment something in his mind clicked, and he realised that all the spurious warnings had to do with the fuel system – low pressure in the fuel tanks, low pressure in the feed system… all of them weren’t symptoms of a broken sensor, but rather a leaking fuel tank instead.

“Fuel tank must have cracked.” He explained to Argo, before getting on the radio. “Canaveral, this is Black Blade. We have a fuel leak and we’re heading straight to Canaveral. Request assistance to meet us on the runway, just in case.”

“Understood, Black Blade. ETA?”

“About twenty minutes.” He answered, looking carefully at the gauge. Thankfully, it seemed to be a slow leak, as fuel consumption was only marginally worse than it normally was, though he did wonder if taking on fuel had caused the leak to become much quicker briefly…

/-/

Kirito had never really been a clock watcher, as it were. No, he was far more likely to completely forget that time itself was a thing, so engrossed in a task was he, but right now, he wished he would be engrossed in something, purely to stop himself from counting down the minutes and the miles as he constantly recalculated the remaining fuel onboard, and the risk that having to glide back to Canaveral would entail.

The Phantom was not a particularly efficient glider, he knew that much, and he really didn’t want to have to quantify that with his own experience, much less with the modifications Liz had made to produce the Super Phantom...

Thankfully though, as they approached the ILS marker, he knew that they were almost home free. That marker meant they were only around ten miles from the runway threshold, and their fuel state was still just narrowly above critical.

“Black Blade, approaching runway 18 on final approach.”

“Crap! Engine 1 flame out!” Argo called from the backseat, and he made sure to keep a hold of the stick to prevent the asymmetric thrust from becoming too much of a major issue during the approach.

A single engine approach in anything wasn’t much fun – he knew that from spending more than a little time flying 737s in simulators and doing his best not to crash into things like the ground, trees… Tokyo Bay, with a single engine flamed out – but it was a very different beast in a Phantom.

On a 737, thrust asymmetry was a much greater threat given the distance between the engines and the centreline, and so, the roll rate would be greater because of it. On their Phantom, the engines were centrally mounted, so the distance from the centreline was essentially none, though it didn’t mean that it wasn’t an issue… just a bit less of one.

“Eight miles to the runway.”

“Understood. Tower, is assistance standing by? We’ve lost one engine, and we really don’t know if we’ll have the other on touchdown…”

“Standing by on the taxiway, Black Blade. Good luck sirs.”

“Understood.” He scanned the fuel state quickly – as close to empty as was possible without describing it as such. They had about a minute before engine 2 flamed out too, and then they were in trouble…

“Six miles, on the glidepath.”

Descending through 1500 feet, the runway became visible to them, encouraging them to press the landing – though it wasn’t like they had much of a choice really.

“Four miles, 1000 feet.”

Gear down, flaps set, and braking chute armed.

“Black Blade, cleared for landing.”

Those four miles were the tensest journey of his life, as he ensured everything was set correctly - the last thing they needed was to be crash landing, especially with a leaking fuel tank.

“100 feet.” Argo called out, and he pulled the nose up to flare for landing as they crossed the threshold. “50 feet.”

Much to his surprise, the landing was probably one of the smoothest he’d ever managed, with the touchdown only barely being felt. The one concerning thing was that engine 2 flamed out just as they touched down, but thankfully, the wheel brakes and braking chute were enough to bring the Phantom to a halt around halfway down the runway…

“Well, that was a lil’ bit too close fer comfort!” Argo laughed from the backseat, as he opened the canopy to get out the Phantom, with Argo following quickly behind as the emergency crews arrived at the empty, but otherwise completely fine aircraft…

Was it bad that he felt like kissing the tarmac below them after that landing?

/-/

About two hours had passed since they had landed, and after some time to decompress after the mission, Kirito and Argo were called into a debrief of what they had found from the recon flight.

“Well, that was a disaster.” Bercouli sighed, taking a swig from his flask. “Not your faults, of course, but… yeah. Command is currently going apeshit at their Yuktobanian counterparts, and the FRO are looking to lynch anyone who isn’t… well, actually just anyone.”

“Not a complete disaster, Commander. The photos we recovered from the Phantom were actually quite enlightening.” Philia spoke up as she entered the room. “Well, more terrifying, but yeah, take a look at these.”

She placed a set of photos down on the table, with some objects circled in red. Long, cylindrical objects that looked a lot like rockets. Big rockets at that…

“Are those what I think they are…” Argo asked, clearly hoping she was wrong.

“R-17 Scuds. Short range ballistic missiles.” The Commander clarified, a concerned look on his face. “You wanted to know what the Adamasians gained from helping the FRO? I’d hazard a guess it was those, and that airliner was meant to act as a human shield.”

As horrifying as that was, something about that explanation really didn’t add up in Kirito’s mind. Maybe it was the idea of a group of terrorists obtaining weapons from Belka, a country they despised (and by all accounts, the feeling was mutual), or maybe it was how those terrorists had then smuggled ballistic missiles into a tiny island nation without anyone noticing…

“How’d they get hold of ‘em then? It ay like the Belkans are just gonna give ‘em SRBMs, is it?” Argo pointed out one of his problems with that theory.

“I might have an idea on that one. The SV Ocean Transit. Left St Calippo about six weeks ago and sank in stormy weather off the coast of Adamas. No survivors of the crew, but there were witnesses who reported the ship exploding violently. Our guess was that it was carrying a shipment of equipment to Leasath at the time, so maybe they scavenged the missiles from the wreck?”

“Well Captain, looks like you’ve got your answer. The FRO sank a freighter and stole them.” Bercouli stated, as if he knew it to be fact; a curious thing considering it wasn’t him who had thought of the theory…

It also hadn’t escaped his notice that he wasn’t the only one unconvinced by that theory – both Argo and Philia seemed more hesitant to assume it was that. A lot of things didn’t quite add up in that theory, not least that an explosion of that scale would’ve destroyed the missiles too, and that six weeks to scavenge missiles like that was not a lot of time for a major power like Osea or Yuktobania… let alone a nation like Adamas that only had an air force because of constantly shifting alliances, and had no R&D department, so to speak.

“Right then, I’m off to go and try to sort this mess out. Expect a briefing in the morning on what we do next.” Bercouli interrupted their thoughts as he walked out the room, leaving the three of them together in the otherwise silent room.

“Well, that was odd.” Philia was first to speak up out of them. “Did he just assume I was right on that one? It was just a theory, and we never even confirmed the Ocean Transit had weapons onboard!”

“I gotta admit, he seems like he wants a reason t’ take the fight to the FRO, damn the consequences.” Argo answered grimly. “And that ain’t a good thing.”

“Can you blame him though, Argo?” He played devil’s advocate here, despite agreeing with her.

“If he’s gonna get us killed through some vendetta, then yeah, I can… and I sure as hell will. We fucked up in what happened at the Bay, and nearly got ourselves killed at St Calippo. Kii-bou, I ain’t lettin’ anyone else die for some dumbass order…”

“Uhh, stupid question here… but what happened at the Bay? And St Calippo? And what vendetta?” Philia diffused the tension with her question, and they must’ve both remembered that Philia had only been here today in that moment.

“We’ll explain in the bar.” Kirito answered. “Either way, welcome to the Black Blades… I’m guessing you’ll be here a while.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 – Operation Diamond, pt.1

The days leading up to the 23^rd of June 1969 were nothing short of hectic.

Aircraft were readied for service at a pace they had yet to see, and pilots were rushed through extra training to make use of the new weapons that many of them had unlocked in the days, weeks and months previously.

As for new aircraft, Kirito and Argo found themselves constantly studying the manuals for their new F-14A, whilst Asuna studied the manual for her new F-15A that had replaced Wind Fleuret II almost two months ago – after Liz had declared that her Lightning had completely had it, the wings cracked from violent maneuvers, and the electrical system about one bad day away from giving up the ghost entirely, given all the additions she had installed…

It had been slightly concerning that Liz hadn’t noticed all that a little bit earlier, especially considering that she had been the one to install all those modifications in the first place, but she had bigger concerns: getting them all back to flight status.

In between the learning curve that had been learning to operate a completely different generation of aircraft and breaking the habits she had picked up from her time flying the Lightning, all of them had to go through the myriad of hurdles placed in front of them to reinstate their commissions.

That process had been far from painless, and even involved mandatory therapy with a therapist bought in to check they were “of sound mind”. Exactly what that meant, she didn’t know, and if she was honest, the woman they bought in didn’t seem to know either.

Not that she was complaining about that – Strea was far more amicable and pleasant than she had been expecting, and surprisingly easy to open up to about their issues, most of which weren’t related to the current situation at all. She reckoned she wasn’t the only one who thought that either; even Alice had seemed a little bit less uptight, which was an achievement in her eyes.

That hadn’t been the only part of the process that she had found counter-intuitive though. One of the results of their records and the failed raid on Telos Major was to have a number of squadrons disbanded, and reformed into newer squadrons, and that happened to include all of the 23^rd, 24^th and 25^th, to be replaced by what Commander Bercouli had called “the Eagle Wing”.

Those three squadrons, as well as Philia’s old squadron, the 312^th Reconnaissance Squadron and an electronic warfare unit, the 890^th Special Squadron, would go onto make the bare bones of the 1^st Eagle Wing; their squadrons being reformed as the 301^st Fighter Squadron, 302^nd Fighter-Bomber Squadron and 303^rd Fighter Squadron, whilst the 312^th became the 305^th, and the 890^th became the 307^th Electronic Squadron. She reckoned they would not be the only ones in time, as she had overheard a conversation between Diavel and the Commander about bringing in pilots and squadrons from other allied forces once this operation was over.

All of that meant that the 23^rd Fighter Squadron was no more though; the Black Blades, Twilight and Fuurinkazen would make up the backbone of the 303^rd Fighter Squadron now. Despite the name change, very little had really changed – even the squadron’s coat of arms had remained the same, bar replacing the 23 on there with 303!

In reality, she believed the change was simply so as Command could distance them from their previous exploits, and to give them a longer leash, something she was really quite happy about!

Especially given preparations for operations above Adamas were planned for less than a week from now. She had to wonder what witchcraft of politicking had been involved to cause the two otherwise bitter enemies that were Osea and Yuktobania to work together, but if it meant they had the numbers advantage going in, then she really wasn’t complaining.

No, what concerned her was the level of secrecy involved – no one really knew more than a quarter of what was going on. Even Diavel, who was realistically in charge of their contribution to the air campaign, had practically admitted he only knew what they were doing. The rest of it was on a need-to-know basis, and apparently… they didn’t need to know.

Which filled her with a sense of dread, as she had taken some time to read up on the politics involved on Adamas – though calling it politics was probably being generous. In actuality, it had been a succession of madmen, lunatics, drug addicts and would-be despots who had rarely managed a month in charge of the country, before the people made their discontent very known.

Known in the way that angry mobs were so often want to do.

The cabal currently in charge of the island had been considerably less arrogant than those though, they had been cunning in letting the state of the island reach such a fever pitch that anything seemed better by comparison. The man in charge was one Francois Mboa, and to say he had any power was probably being generous too. He was never seen without his advisor, a former Estovakian mercenary going by the name of Chudelkin, and this had led many to believe that Chudelkin was the real power in the Administration.

Not that it had stopped Mboa from indulging in his vices though; drugs, alcohol and women were all a very common sight, according to Philia, and there had even been rumours of a squadron of MIG-25s manned solely by the most attractive pilots they had, hand-picked by the “President” himself… not that those rumours were taken too seriously.

Still, they had managed to piece together most parts of the plan before the end of the week – though the land assault was still a very unknown quantity, and if she believed what Sierra said, possibly the stupidest idea in a long time.

He wasn’t wrong though – it would be urban warfare across the entire island, through towns and a city, with civilians in the crossfire at every turn, almost the definition of unrestricted warfare.

As for the air assault, it was likely that the 303^rd would be split by flights – Black Blade providing fighter cover across the southern beach, whilst Twilight and Samurai attacked ground units on the northern beaches. The 301^st, the former 25^th, would be given the task to secure air superiority over Tulau, the capital city, whilst the 302^nd, the former 24^th, were to disable the airbase to the southern side of the island, codenamed X-2, using anti-runway munitions.

She didn’t envy their job at all – dashing in low at near the speed of sound, decelerating over a field of triple-A in order to deploy the munitions, then running away very fast, and preferably before every air defence system in the south lit them up…

/-/

If Asuna had thought the run up to Operation Diamond was hectic, then she really hadn’t seen anything yet.

The evening of the 31^st of May 1969 was spent waiting around, sat in their cockpits, the fuel bowsers and electrical generators plugged into their aircraft like umbilical cords to keep them ready to go at a moment’s notice, whilst other aircraft were moved in and out of position on the apron at Bana City.

The civilian airport had been taken over by the military for the past few days, something she couldn’t say she imagined would be acceptable in their world at all, and every kind of aircraft she’d seen up to this point had gone past her canopy at some point in the evening – fighters, bombers, tankers, electronic warfare types, transports, helicopters… if it was in the Osean arsenal, then it had likely been there that evening.

Still, that left the Eagle squadrons sat around with nothing to do, and nowhere to go…

“Solitaire Two here. You reckon there’s a traffic jam up there yet?” Kureha asked, and she could understand the boredom in her counterpart’s voice.

“Hey Cap, you’re British… reckon that’s a traffic jam or not?” Sierra asked, clearly trying to get a rise from his PIC.

“Says the guy from L.A.” Jet answered without much amusement in his voice.

“Handbags at dawn, ladies…” Itsuki interjected before any more barbs could be exchanged. Despite the insults, she’d come to learn that it was a strange form of endearment between those two – if they were insulting each other, everything was probably fine.

If they weren’t… then trouble was usually brewing.

“Nah, we’re just that good that we’re being kept in reserve for now. They don’t want us saving the day again!” Klein joked, earning a mix of laughs and groans from all of the squadrons. “Mind ya, it wouldn’t be us saving the day, it’d be the Angels.”

“Angels?” asked Alice.

“You haven’t heard? You guys are being called the Angels of Oured now.” Klein explained, not that it clarified anything.

“What a ridiculous name.” Alice groaned. “Besides, what did we do to deserve such a name?”

“Apparently, you appeared from nowhere when all was lost at the bay and turned the tide of battle into an Osean victory.” Klein summarised.

“Err, we lost that battle. Quite conclusively, actually.” Ronye answered, pointing out the glaring error in that particular story.

A glaring error that apparently left a few of the former naval pilots less than happy at its existence. “Charming, we get painted as feckless idiots, and they get the victory for a battle they didn’t even win…” Sierra grumbled, clearly unaware that he was broadcasting…

“Your microphone is still on; in case you happen to be unaware.” Alice reminded him, a completely false sense of sweetness in her voice.

“Oh for-Cap, you bastard! You left the mic on!”

“You leant on the button, not me.”

“Getting back to the subject…” Kureha, ignoring the squabble going on in the static behind her, pulled them back to the original topic of conversation. “I’m guessing someone made you guys the heroes because it made a good story.” Whilst she may not have been as openly angry as Sierra had been, Asuna hadn’t missed the intonations in her voice that told her she was just as angry, but better at keeping it bottled up.

Understandably so, in her opinion, as it did completely downplay the efforts that the eight naval pilots had gone to, in order to defend their carrier group against impossible odds and not to mention ignoring that they had exposed themselves to more fire in order to launch a search for Koharu, one that was admittedly in vain, but those were not the actions of cowards or the actions of an incompetent defence…

“No idea, but apparently you girls are the poster girls for the Air Force now. There’s even pinups going around…” Klein told them, before immediately realising what he had just told them. “I’ve not seen them though! Just heard about them!”

“Wow, you’re really bad at lying.” Tiese told him bluntly.

“He is, especially as I know he has seen them.” Liena said nonchalantly. “I saw your walls the other night. Along with the ceiling, but I can’t say there was one up there.”

The fact that even Argo had audibly done a spit-take at that one, let alone everyone else in the group, told her a lot about the context of that statement.

Eydis, on the other hand, just laughed hysterically at that. “Wow, Liena, and you say I’m a perv… at least I don’t go broadcasting my exploits to everyone… at least tell me they got our good sides?”

“Eydis!” Alice shrieked.

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not a bit curious, Ali?”

“No! No I am not!” Alice stated definitively. “I am not curious at all what some oversexed artist thinks I look like in very little clothing!”  

“I am though!” Eydis replied cheerfully. “Klein, when we get back, can I see them?”

“Edmondson, control your girlfriend!” Alice shrieked at Jet, who seemed to be knocking his helmet against his control panel, either in laughter or in frustration…

Whichever it was, it was admittedly quite funny to see Alice lose her cool over something. Even if what it was over was rather less amusing…

“Alice, you’ve had 18 years of trying to corral her. What makes you think I’ll do any better?” He pointed out. “Eydis, knock it off. Tease her when we aren’t waiting for clearance to go.”

“I meant stop her permanently, not delay it!”

“That’s on you, Blondie. Should’ve said that then.” Sierra quipped back, and Asuna could see exactly where this was going – those two were experts at winding each other up, it had transpired.

During the month of grounding, the “prank war” that everyone else had found themselves in the middle of had gradually become more mean spirited, until a mix of Liz threatening Alice if she continued to mess up the paperwork to mess with Sierra, and Eydis reminding Sierra that the next time she wound up with red hair would see a very different kind of red mess in the shower, had created a cease-fire between those two.

A cease-fire that was now being threatened at the worst possible moment…

Luckily though, Sierra’s mic cut out before he had any more chance to do any damage on that front. “Ahh, the joys of being PIC. I can do that.” Jet sighed, though she could hear Sierra commenting angrily in the back seat about adding an r in there.

“Thank you, Captain, I was getting rather fed up of listening to that dispute.” Fanatio told them, her MIG-21 parked somewhere further down the flightline, having only come out of repaint that day. Given the fact that both sides were using MIG-21s out here, it had been decided that any aircraft known to be in the Adamasian inventory, as well as a partner force’s, would be painted with invasion stripes, to distinguish allied MIG-21s from enemy MIG-21s and prevent friendly fire incidents…

“No problem, ma’am.”

Returning her scanning from over the direction of Fanatio’s MIG, she had noticed that the apron had started to clear somewhat quicker now, and with only two hours to go until commencement of the operation, she imagined they would be soon to go up and await their instructions at 01:00 hours.

“Black Blade Flight, proceed to taxiway Oscar-6 and await further instructions.” The tower called them, and Asuna began to set the switches into the correct positions in order to disable the ground ancillaries and switch the F-15 into a mode that meant it could rely on its onboard electronics and fuel system.

“Kirito to all Black Blade aircraft, you heard them. Head to the taxiway, and we’ll form up in the air.”

“What he meant is “get ya game faces on, guys and gals, cus’ this is gonna be a long night.”.” Argo told them, and she really did have no idea just how right she would turn out to be on that one…

/-/

By the time Black Blade had had climbed to their assigned altitude and track, it had been time for the flight to rendezvous with a tanker circling not far from Bana, in order to top up their tanks, and by the time they had returned from that, mission launch was less than ten minutes away.

At time 00:52, t-minus eight minutes, they had been given their new course and directed to fly south over Skerries Island, to meet up with a Yuktobanian flight, and to escort the landing ships to the south beach, codenamed “Point Rain”, with an expectation that they would arrive around 00:58.

“Black Blades to Molot, how copy?” Kirito called out as they approached the RP.

“Molot Leader, reading you loud and clear. Good to have you with us tonight, we have heard many stories!” The Yuktobanian flight leader called. “Our flight will handle ground targets along the approach, we will need you to provide air cover though. Adamasian fighters are no joke…”

“Tell me ‘bout it. Nearly got took out by a MIG-25 last week…” Argo told them.

“Consider it done, Molot.”

Alice was the first to break the silence that had fell over Black Blade Flight as they reached the RP at 10,000 feet and turned onto a heading of 027 degrees. “I don’t understand, we’re at the staging point; should the allied forces not be-holy mother of God!”

Asuna looked down from her cockpit, and spotted what she assumed was the allied forces. Vast waves of wash kicked up from the sea below, long white streaks cut into the jet-black water below and moving far faster than any boat she had ever seen, even faster than the quickest of speedboats.

“Oh my…” Ronye gasped.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d have almost assumed they were planes, but at that low of a level?

“That ain’t a sight ya see e’rry day now, is it?” Argo chuckled to herself.

“Are those…” Tiese asked.

“Ekranoplans. A lot of them too!” Kirito answered.

Closing the gap, she was able to gain a better view of the craft below them:

A veritable force of fast-moving objects, somewhere between boats and aircraft, though seemingly neither at the same time – far too fast to be boats but skimming the waves far too closely to be planes – of really odd configurations for either type of craft.

The larger ones appeared to have their engines positioned in large pods besides the cockpit, and positioned ahead of the stubby main wings that skimmed across the water below them, whilst the tail surfaces were absolutely monstrous; the vertical stabiliser towering above the craft, whilst the horizontal stabiliser dwarfed the wings, almost making it look like a staggered biplane of sorts…

The “smaller” ones – though in this case, smaller was a relative term, they were still larger than most transport aircraft she had ever seen, bar the rare times a Galaxy arrived at the base – lacked the engine pods on the larger craft, though they instead had a massive contra-rotating propeller mounted in a pod atop the highly swept tailplane.

Exactly how these things worked, she genuinely had no idea (though she did make a note to read up on it when she got chance), but whatever the case was with these “ekranoplans”, they were certainly a sight to behold!

“I am aware that I should be at peak performance right now… but there is currently a part of my soul weeping with joy at that sight.” Alice told them, her voice clearly showing how awestruck she was.

“Err… she means she thinks ekranoplans are cool.” Eugeo translated from “Alice”. “I think, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, looks like the Adamasians don’t think quite so highly of ‘em! Coastal batteries openin’ fire!” Argo pointed out, as shells began to splash down around the ekranoplans, missing them, but only barely.

“Commander, the coastal batteries are opening fire! Molot is requesting permission to commence the assault.”

“Molot, permission is granted. All forces, commence Operation Diamond!” The commander answered, and in that moment, the rules of the night had changed. They were the hunters, and the Adamasian Air Forces were the prey now…

“Black Blades, Constellation. Looks like their fighters are scrambling. Four fighter bombers taking off from X-2, targets are the landing craft.”

“Batcat here, we see them. Four Kfirs, on a direct vector for the ekranoplans.”

“Molot Two, I am spiked! Going eva-” Below, she saw as one of the Su-17s escorting the ekranoplans disappeared into a cloud of fire and smoke, the fireball lighting up the force against the early morning darkness and the black void of the sea…

“Black Blade Five, I have two Foxbats prowling the east of the island at 50 miles. Your call, Kirito.”

“Take them out, Sinon.” Kirito responded, and from well above them, a flash of light lit up the blanketing darkness of the night sky – the trail of an AIM-47 launching high into the atmosphere to rain down fire on a very unlucky Foxbat…

“Black Blade Five, Fox Three.” Sinon called out.

“Four Kfirs on radar-what the bloody hell?!”

“Argo?” Kirito asked.

“No way’s that right!” Argo called out. “16 aircraft on radar now. No, wait, 32!”

“Argo, I have 16 on my scope. Looks like they’re using a jamming craft over the island.” Sinon corroborated.

“Well, ain’t that charming!” Argo shouted. “Batcat, you have a visual on that jammer?”

“Roger, Black Blade One, aircraft is circling to the west at this time. Do you need vectors to it?”

“Tiese, Ronye, reckon you can handle the jammer?” Kirito asked.

“We’re on it!” Ronye responded, and from her nine o’clock, the two Mirage 2000Cs peeled away to the west, leaving just four aircraft in their flight out here: herself, Kirito & Argo, Eugeo and Alice.

“Molot Leader, we are approaching the target, more fighters are climbing out!”

“Understood Molot, we currently have active jamming, so we’re moving into visual range of the fighters.”

In the briefest moment before they turned to face the incoming fighters, she sighed to herself. This really was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?

/-/

Heading north (again), Ronye found herself wishing that she had had a little bit more time to familiarise herself with the complex new systems on the Mirage 2000C, understandably so, given that she had skipped from a very early third generation fighter like the Draken, straight to the Mirage 2000, a fourth-generation fighter with full fly-by-wire controls… and apparently no long range AAMs.

Lisbeth had promised she would work on incorporating them when they arrived, but short of hastily allowing them to use the massive stockpile of R530s that had once been used by Alice and Eugeo with a radar mode that certainly wasn’t in the manual, she would have to wait, and rely on the R.550 Magics instead for now.

Oddly, that was proving to be less of a problem at the moment, as herself and Tiese began to hunt down the jamming aircraft; those Magic missiles were heat-seeking after all, not radar guided, and so, the jamming wouldn’t affect them as badly.

“Black Blade Six, Batcat. We’re approaching the last known position of the jammer, but it isn’t here?” Tiese called, though to no answer. “Batcat, how copy?”

Looking around the night sky, she spotted something; something she wished wasn’t there – a flight of MIGs, four of them. “Tiese, four MIG-21s, straight ahead!”

She didn’t have time to give a more detailed picture of the situation before her RWR went crazy, and she threw the Mirage into a tight defensive turn, letting off chaff as she did. Of course this was a trap, she thought to herself, why would they have left a transport sized jammer out here on its own… now that would have been crazy!

“Hah, the Oseans actually fell for it…” Their radios burst into life, though not with any voice she recognised.

“Get off our frequency!” Tiese told the new voice angrily.

“I don’t think I shall. After all, you are the ones invading us, are you not?”

“Black Blade Seven, the jamming craft was a trap! We’re under attack by-” She called, only to realise her call wasn’t going through at all. Radio jamming, just like they’d used at Saint Calippo…

“You think we didn’t watch your little exploits? These jammers are really quite useful!”

Notte and Rano, that had to be how they knew about that!

“Yo, Medina, how about we level the playing field again?” Ronye craned her head around to spot two MIG-21s approaching fast – one bright pink, and the other only faintly visible in the night sky… how had they known they were in trouble if-

She chided herself for the disruption; do now, think later!

Pulling her nose around, she looked for Tiese’s Mirage, and the two MIGs, though failed to notice either. Her radar told them there was one coming around behind her, but her own eyes told her otherwise. Trusting her instruments in the dark, she turned the Mirage towards the blip, and spotted one of the hostile MIGs, mostly silver in colour, though with a dark pink spine. In their haste to engage the jammer, she hadn’t readied her Magics, only her cannons and so she closed the distance to the MIG, itself chasing after someone…

One burst from the DEFA 554s was all it took for her first kill of the night – 30mm fire tore straight into the MIG along its wing roots, tearing both wings clean off with a spectacular fireball, as fuel poured out into the stream of fire…

“Ronye, splash one MIG-21!” She called, briefly forgetting that the call wasn’t going out to anyone now. “Oh, yeah.”

Scanning between her Agave radar, and outside the cockpit, she tried to get her head back into the fight and work out the best course of action to win this engagement – the current situation was a 4:3 advantage to them, having downed one MIG-21 herself, but other than that, she couldn’t tell what else was going on.

“Ah ha!” She cried, spotting another MIG-21 closing fast on LLENN’s MIG. With no radio, she couldn’t tell her to break, so it was up to her to handle the MIG before this became a 3 on 3. Quickly, she readied her Magics, and the characteristic growl of the heat-seeker came through her headset. “Ronye, Fox Two!”

Before she’d had chance to say anything else, the missile had dropped away, and launched straight at the MIG, though it failed to impact; the MIG’s pilot having spotted her pursuing it, braking sharply to the left and letting off flares to throw off the seeker.

Deciding in that moment that she was getting that second kill; she gave chase again and lit her afterburner to keep up. For a brief moment, she spotted a small silver dot in the distance, and assumed it was another of the hostile MIGs.

That dot swiftly became recognisable as an aircraft from the front…

Then she could see just how close it was, and that it was coming head on with her. Jerking the stick to the left, she snapped the Mirage inverted, before feeling the aircraft buffet violently. Violently enough that had thrown the stick and throttle from her hands and sent the Mirage into an unplanned spin, leaving her to fight the errant fighter for control…

After about one and a half rotations, she had managed to get the Mirage back under control, though now with a lot of warning lights and horns blaring in the cockpit; the most notable of them being that the fuel supply was low.

She knew the Mirage was no long-range attacker, but to be running out of fuel this fast? That meant that either she’d taken a serious hit to the fuel tanks, and was leaking at an alarming rate, or that the centreline drop tank had been ripped off the aircraft in the spin. Neither were good news, but one was survivable, the other, not so much…

Taking a calculated risk, she set the fuel supply to the Mirage’s internal tanks, and breathed a sigh of relief when the low fuel pressure light was extinguished.

Scanning the sky again, she looked out and spotted an Antonov-12 – their target before they were ambushed – and no MIGs in close proximity. Pulling the Mirage’s nose around to intercept the Antonov, and advancing the throttle, the now lightened delta shot off in pursuit of the Cub and soon, she found herself closing onto the jammer’s six o’clock.

Switching to cannons, she let off two bursts – one that scored only a glancing blow but allowed her to zero in her aim for the second, the rounds slamming straight against the wing root of the converted airlifter. The Antonov shuddered under 30mm fire but stayed airborne briefly as the crew attempted to turn away from her, and she checked her aim for the final burst she would fire against the jammer.

Before she had even finished lining up the shot, an explosion rocked the sky ahead of her and the burning An-12 plummeted towards the Southern Sea, now missing its left wing, which had continued on briefly, as if it were flying on cartoon physics…

“Black Blade Six, we’ve been ambushed, can anyone read us?!”

“Pito, LLENN, where the hell are you?”

“Ronye to all aircraft, radar and radio jamming is down! Confirm one An-12 destroyed!”

“Atta girl!” Argo called out. “Just in time too, looks like more of ‘em getting airborne!”

“Oh, you will pay for that, you insolent brat!”

“Oh shut that gob of yours, Medina, or we’ll shut it for ya!” Pito told her angrily. “Looks like she’s coming for ya though, Ronny.”

She did her best not to correct Pito on her name, and instead focus on fighting the ace of the pack. The months of flying with the 23^rd; being taught by Kirito and Asuna, her own learning, the battles they’d all fought…

It came down to this now. 

Without any more hesitation, she readied her last Magic for the moment that “Medina” slipped up. On paper, this should’ve been an easy win for her – the Mirage 2000 was a whole generation newer, and just as manoeuvrable as the MIG-21, if not more so with the relaxed stability of the craft – but she’d realised it came down to pilots in the cockpit, just as often as it had-

Explosions lit up the skies around her, completely snapping her out of it, and forcing her to look around for the source of the explosions… flak batteries on the ground. “Batcat to Black Blades Six and Seven, I’d advise falling back until those cannons are dealt with. Looks like they’ve just managed to hit one of their own planes with them too…”

“Understood. Kirito, we’re running close to bingo fuel and almost out of ammunition.” She explained.

“Alright. Ronye, Tiese, return to Bana City to refuel and rearm. We’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And with that, she turned the Mirage back to the north, and waited as Tiese reformed on her wing. It wasn’t quite the spectacular battle she had imagined in her head, but it was certainly just as ferocious as the battles over Avalon, the Bay and St Calippo, even if there were fewer aircraft involved…

/-/

In the cockpit of the Eagle, the battle raged on, and Adamas’s air force had come out swinging! MIG-21s, MIG-23s and MIG-25s all attempted to seize control of the sky towards the south, whilst Kfirs, Hunters and MIG-17s attempted to attack the landing forces as they approached the shore…

In the time since they’d split up the flight, she reckoned she had scored at least three kills (well, three aircraft that she had targeted with missiles had exploded, anyway, and that was pretty good confirmation in her eyes), with a further three probables (aircraft she had definitely hit, and not seen again, but she had no idea whether they had gone down or just run away), but in that same time, an extra ten aircraft had joined the fight…

“We could’ve really done with our own attackers! Those coastal guns are keeping the ground troops way back!”

“Molot, if we clear a path through the fighters, reckon you still have the firepower to take out those guns?”

“Negative, unless you happen to have bought bunker busters, those guns are cased in concrete!”

“Commander, we’ve got a situation down here. Those forts are preventing the troops from getting off the beach, and we’ve got no way of killing them from up here.”

“Damn it…” Bercouli sighed. “Open to suggestions here, people!”

“Solitaire Three, you bought bigger bombs – rragh! - right?”

“Yes, four Mk84s. Not bunker busters though.” Zeliska answered.

“Good enough to lay the hurt on them. Zel, head south and rendezvous with the Black Blades. Between us and Kureha, we should be able to handle the runway. Itsuki, escort her down to Point Rain. Idol Two, shift support further south so we don’t make it too easy for them!”

“Understood.”

“Moving further south, sir.”

“Black Blades, this is Solitaire Three. ETA is six minutes.”

“Acknowledged, Zeliska. Black Blades, we’ve got six minutes to clear the airspace of fighters!”

In theory, that sounded a lot easier than it was in practice – it sounded like an obvious reminder of the video game heritage of ACES, more so than a reasonable mission objective – but that assumed that how many aircraft were up here were the only aircraft that would be up here and that Adamas wouldn’t be able to send up any more…

Scanning the AN/APG-63 radar in her Eagle, she spotted her next target – a pair of Kfirs going for the landing zone. If her experience so far was anything to go by, those Kfirs would be armed with rocket pods and their twin DEFA cannons, a nasty punch against ground targets, but not a match for an F-15…

“Asuna, Fox Two.” She let off her last Sidewinder at the first of the Kfirs, and in the middle distance, lit up by searchlights, explosions and gunfire, she saw her prey explode into pieces, whilst the other turned frantically, unsure of whether it was also being targeted…

It was, and she wasn’t going to let the chance to become an ace in a day go this easily! Snap rolling the Eagle onto a head on vector with the second Kfir, she readied a Sparrow to fire, gaining a radar lock easily.

“Asuna, Fox One!” The AIM-7 dropped away, and covered the few miles to the target within seconds before it obliterated the target with extreme prejudice. “That’s two more Kfirs down. How many more to go?”

“No more aircraft reported to be taking off, Black Blades. That’s all of them for the time being.”

“Understood Batcat. Black Blades, report in?”

“Asuna, still here. Ten minutes of fuel left, and three Sparrows, plus whatever’s in my gun.” She answered, glad for the weapons computer on her new aircraft.

“Eugeo, we’ll be bingo fuel in two minutes. Down to my guns too.”

“Alice, a similar situation here.”

“Sinon, fuel’s not a problem, but I’m having to move closer to use Sparrows now.”

“Damn it. Commander, we’re nearly on fumes out here.” Kirito called.

“I read ya, Black Blades. We’re comin’ to relieve ya.” Bercouli answered. “ETA’s 8 minutes though.”

“We understand sir, we can hold out that long.” Kirito told him. “Alice, Eugeo, break away if you’re getting low on fuel. We’ll cover you as you leave the AO.”

Argo would soon break the tactical meeting, as she kept watch on the picture developing over Point Rain. “Nice as this team talk is… we’ve got more of ‘em! MIG-23s this time!”

“Why did we sell planes to them?!” One of the Yuktobanian pilots cried out, and Asuna found herself agreeing with the sentiment. She could only imagine Yuktobania hadn’t really thought it through, and assumed that they wouldn’t be fighting against the aircraft they had sold them…

A fatally flawed assumption, as it turned out.

Still, with the jamming dealt with, they could make use of their longer-range weapons now, and so, she worked to lock up the first MIG-23 at 25 miles to their east, and without much hassle, she had managed it. “Asuna, Fox One.”

An AIM-7 dropped away into the darkness, and flew straight for the unlucky MIG; the only sign of its existence ending being the bright flash in the distance and the disappearance of its radar blip…

Two missiles left.

Scanning her radar again, she didn’t spot any blips heading their way – only allied aircraft were now showing up on her radar, and it looked like the Adamasians were starting to run short of aircraft to oppose them anymore…

/-/

Onboard the A-7, Zeliska found herself working out an optimum attack run to engage the coastal batteries. She knew that they were still defended by triple A, which made any shallow attack angle dangerous, and although the SAMs on the beach and hills surrounding them had mostly been neutralised by the Yuktobanian flights, there was still a non-zero chance some were still operational…

“Batcat, this is Zeliska. What am I going up against?” She asked the EC-121 circling the island.

“Looks like previous strikes have done a number on their triple A, but ground fire is still high enough that it’s holding the Yuke forces back. Watch yourself.” The operator on the Warning Star told her. “Your best shot is probably to approach from behind the landing site – their coverage is worst there.”

“Understood Batcat. I’ll try to swing it from behind and take out the roofs on those casemates.” She told them, despite her own hesitance on the subject. Mark 84s weren’t the most accurate of weapons, but they were effective area denial she’d learned whilst undertaking some training passes on tanks.

Not quite a wave of Snakeeyes, but they’d do for this. She needed penetrative power anyway, not mass, and without having a pair of bunker busters under the wings of the Corsair, they were the closest thing available…

“Zeliska to Black Blades and Molot, approaching from the west. I’ll try to take out the guns in two passes, just keep the fighters off me.” She asked, looking at the fire lit battleground beneath her.

“We’re getting’ it in hand, Zeliska. Just a few of ‘em left now!” Argo called out. “Looks like they’re readyin’ for a big push, guys and gals!”

Pushing the throttle as far forward as it would go, she dived towards the deck to avoid any marauding fighters and pressed forward. One minute to go, she readied the switches to release two of the four Mk84s and lined up her attack approach on the first casemate.

Double checking everything before she released her bombs, she felt the Corsair shudder under the ground fire and vibrations from the firing of the naval guns…

“Solitaire Three, release!” She felt another thud – this time as 4000 pounds of ordnance dropped off the wing pylons of the A-7 and pulled up briefly in order to swing her aircraft around for the second attack, as well as to confirm effect on target. The bombs hadn’t completely torn through the casemate, but it looked as if they’d done some serious damage to the structure as the barrel of the naval gun was almost warped at the end… “Good effect on that one. Coming back around for the second now.”

“Now that is what we are talking about!” One of the Yuktobanian pilots called out. “Tell him we owe him a drink after this!”

“Her.” She corrected them.

Exactly what was said afterwards, she wasn’t sure – she didn’t understand Russian or Yuktobanian, after all – but she imagined it was probably surprise at their saviour being a woman…

“Well then ma’am, we all owe you a drink!”

“Save it till the other one’s destroyed, could you?” She told them, swinging the Corsair down into a diving attack on the last casemate. Releasing the last pair of Mk84s, she pulled the A-7 up into a climbing turn and pulled around to escape the ground fire and backblast from below.

“Thank you, Osean lady! We are moving up now. Forward!” Shouted a commander on the ground as the troops charged up the beach, unimpeded by the artillery fire that had pinned them down…

“Solitaire Three, Winchester.” She informed them. She still had a pair of Sidewinders mounted, and her guns, but those were essentially last-ditch weapons to keep her alive rather than for use in most situations.

“Got it, Zel. Head back to Bana, and we’ll see you on the ground. Itsuki, you still with her?”

“I am engaged with a pair of fighters at the moment. Hold please.” She always wondered how he could remain quite so calm in the face of a two-on-one duel, but right now, she had only one question…

“So I had no cover then?”

“Zel, have this debate back at base.” Jet told her sternly, a tone that almost dared her to go against him in that moment…

Sometimes, people did wonder why the youngest member of the squadron had been made the flight lead, but it was moments like that that solidified his status as captain in her eyes, even if he didn’t act like it sometimes…

“Understood. I’ll head back to Bana. See you all later.” She called back and turned out to the coast for the return flight to the north.

“Black Blades, this is Liberator Lead. Head back with her, we’ve got this up here now.” She heard the call and took a glance over her shoulder to the left, making visual contact with a flight of four aircraft - four F-106 Delta Darts.

“Understood Diavel, good hunting.” Kirito told the field commander, as the trails of the 303^rd aircraft followed her own path…

As she flew back though, and minutes passed by, she couldn’t help but think how her flight were faring as they attacked X-2, the mission she was supposed to be a part of. It was a ballsy raid, she had to admit, and one that even Jet had seemed hesitant on, before accepting that there weren’t many better options available to them…

She’d just have to ask them when they got back, she supposed…

Chapter Text

Chapter 20 – Operation Diamond, pt.2

The general feeling amongst the pilots of the 302^nd that night was one of tension, one of trepidation… and in a slight dichotomy to both, one of boredom, Jet thought to himself as they approached the first waypoint.

Their mission was arguably one of the most important of the war – to put the Adamasian Air Force’s main airfield out of commission until a more permanent solution could be found, and it was one that their Tornado was well suited for.

During their Cold War, it had been the main role of many RAF squadrons based in Germany to dash over the border, using the Tornado’s excellent low-level characteristics and specialised anti-runway weaponry, and put Soviet airfields out of commission… even though such a mission would be suicide for anyone tasked with that mission.

He supposed that summarised much of the hypothetical World War 3: it was a slightly more drawn-out suicide for everyone involved. Mutually assured destruction was an accurate way of looking at it, because even those who didn’t die in the initial waves wouldn’t find much out there to live for, as bleak as it sounded.

He’d seen Threads and When the Wind Blows, and to say he’d come away from it far more terrified of the concept was to put it politely…

Thankfully, it didn’t appear that Strangereal had any nuclear weapons yet – the one they’d encountered over Avalon was some kind of incendiary warhead, hence they’d survived with only some scratches, though he imagined such a weapon would be far more terrifying should it be used against ground forces, or worse still, against civilians…

“Cap, we’re nearing the AO. Game faces on?” Sierra asked from the backseat.

“Yup. Solitaire Lead to all Solitaires, this is the big one.” Snapping back to their current reality, rather than a hypothetical WW3 that thankfully never happened, he told everyone.

This also marked a different strategy to them – they would be working with a battlefield controller in the form of an EC-121 Warning Star that would be providing everyone with instructions of where to go after they had disabled their primary targets, and whether they had disabled their primary targets in the first place… “Batcat to Solitaire, request you hold back. Missiles are inbound to soften up X-2s defences.”

Missiles? Just another thing Bercouli had failed to tell them then… that they would be the second wave into X-2, not the first. Still, he wasn’t complaining if it took away their chance to shoot them back; the less lead in the sky, the safer they were dashing in at 100 feet ASL!

“Radar’s set, Sierra?” He asked his RIO.

“Set.” Sierra told him.

“Nautlius, Yuna, where are we on the jamming?” He looked out the cockpit to try and find the Raven in the darkness.

He couldn’t.

“Jamming is active.” Yuna told him.

“Good. Let’s get our butts in gear.” He told them, looking at the sky outside of the Tornado – a pitch black sky, lit by only the stars in the sky and the glowing exhausts of the other aircraft in the distance.

“Solitaire, missiles should be impacting their targets… now!” In the distant view of the island, he saw a number of fires suddenly erupt, no doubt struck by the cruise missiles. “Viper, good effect on target.”

“Commander, we’ve got a situation down here. Those forts are preventing the troops from getting off the beach, and we’ve got no way of killing them from up here.”

“Damn it…” Bercouli sighed. “Open to suggestions here, people!”

“Solitaire Three, you bought bigger bombs – rragh! - right?”

“Yes, four Mk84s. Not bunker busters though.” Zeliska answered.

“Good enough to lay the hurt on them. Zel, head south and rendezvous with the Black Blades. Between us and Kureha, we should be able to handle the runway. Itsuki, escort her down to Point Rain. Idol Two, shift support further south, so we don’t make it too easy for them!” He ordered, hoping that the missiles had softened up the base enough that the pair of bombers would be enough to disable the base for the time being.

They should’ve been – their Tornado was carrying a pair of JP233 pods to disable the runway, and make life very hard for the clean up crew sent out try and repair the runway later in the morning, whilst Kureha’s Thunderchief was loaded with as many Snakeeyes as they could reasonably carry, to destroy as much of the airside infrastructure as they could…

“Understood.” Itsuki answered, and he watched the Crusader III peel away in pursuit of the Corsair, the J75 glowing against the dark night sky.

“Moving further south, sir.”

“Black Blades, this is Solitaire Three. ETA is six minutes.”

“Acknowledged, Zeliska. Black Blades, we’ve got six minutes to clear the airspace of fighters!” He heard Kirito order, and he moved back into readying for the strike. Unlike many of their weapons, the JP233 required a set of conditions to be met to effectively use the weapon in the role it was intended for:

Firstly, they needed to approach the runway to be destroyed fast, low and wings level to ensure the munitions would release onto the target, and not ended up cratering the sand next to the runway instead. They’d need to be at an indicated airspeed of around 450 knots and an altitude of 100 feet ASL to best employ the weapon, and then haul arse as soon as the pods beneath them had each emptied out their deadly payload of thirty anti-runway mines, and 215 anti-personnel mines, preferably before the Adamasian gunners found zero on their aircraft…

Nice and easy, Jet had thought rather sarcastically, and for once, Sierra had agreed with him. Unfortunately for them, Bercouli had reminded them that aircraft that could carry the JP233 weren’t exactly common – to his knowledge, only the Tornado and Jaguar could carry the massive canoe like pods, and the Tornado was arguably the most effective of the two.

And the only one of the two currently present at Canaveral, which meant that the law of probability had volunteered them for death defying stunts once more…

“Solitaire to Batcat, what kind of defences are we still looking at down there?”

“Air defences around X-2 are reduced to light triple-A fire, and possible MANPADs threat. SA-3 and SA-6 threat is mostly removed.”

“Well, at least we aren’t going to get a big missile slamming into us…” Sierra shrugged from behind him.

“No, just death by a thousand cuts instead…” He grumbled as he moved into position for the sprint towards X-2. “Kureha, you still with us?”

“You have to ask?” She joked. “Someone needs to make sure your butts don’t get killed!”

“Oh yeah… like I wasn’t plucking your butt out the fire when we were kids, missy!”

“Eh, fifty-fifty.” She deflected, knowing that Sierra was telling the truth for once, and changed topic. “Jet, what’s the exit strategy?”

He thought about it briefly, and decided simple was best, given they were already tempting fate a little bit down here… “Full burners, run like hell for the tankers before they can shoot back.” He told them.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

In addition to the Warning Star picking out the ground targets across Adamas, and managing the air battle in that theatre, the remaining Navy E-2 Hawkeyes had been tasked to provide a radar perimeter, in order to ensure that any Adamasian aircraft was soon disabled and that aircraft weren’t just wandering off to go shoot down anything they saw in the distance… “Magic, Solitaire is at the RP. Go, no go?”

“Solitaire, this is Magic, mission is a go.” The Hawkeye’s operator told them, and he pushed the nose down gently, so that they would hit 100 feet as they reached their IP, rather than with any sudden drop that could tear the JP233 cannisters off their pylons, jeopardising not only the mission, but also their continued existence…

“Good luck, boys. See you back at base!” Kureha said as they watched the brightly coloured F-105 bank away to hit her targets at her optimum position – he imagined that jettisoning Snakeyees at 100 feet would be… an experience, and probably one that no one would ever want to repeat!

The ride down to 100 feet was really quite smooth, he thought; the Tornado almost cushioning every bump and nestle that they would’ve felt in anything else, and the turbulence was significantly less than he’d have expected…

He made a note to send a letter of compliments to whoever had been responsible for the Tornado’s low-level flight characteristics, because it was genuinely impressive!

Reaching the IP, he had got his calculations spot on, because they hit the target altitude exactly as they passed over the point, and he began to line up with the ILS marker to line up with the direction of the main runway…

“Weapons ready.”

“Ready to roll.”

“One mile to target.”

“Fingers on buzzers.” Sierra answered – his own code for saying he was ready to go, inspired by the many panel shows he had essentially forced the American to watch back in the real world. “Looks like they’re ready for us, Cap!”

He wasn’t kidding either – triple A fire lit up the night sky ahead of them, firing blindly as they looked for the Tornado. Thankfully, the gunners were aiming way ahead of them, probably assuming they were higher than they really were, a deception that wouldn’t last when the aircraft was being lit up like a Christmas tree by the deployment of the JP233…

“Yeah, thankfully they think we’re somewhere else for now.” He answered. “We’re lined up, let’s put them out of commission!”

“One mile to go, cap.”

“Fingers on buzzers.”

“Ready for the big prize.”

As they passed over the antenna farm for the ILS, Jet took one deep breath and held his hands firm on the stick in front of him. “Go!”

A press on the button behind, and a dull thud could be heard from beneath them as their explosive payload dropped out of the canoes mounted under them, and illuminated what felt like the entirety of Adamas as they tore up the runway, a wall of dirt and fire behind them as the SG-357 mines tore apart the asphalt, whilst the HB-876 mines set about setting themselves upright as an unwelcome present for any repair crews…

In all, and during the five second dash over the runway of the X-2, they had released nearly five hundred mines onto the runway below, and made themselves a really obvious target now – the silhouette of the Tornado neatly illuminated by the explosions behind them, giving the triple-A gunners an almost perfect target to aim for; a design flaw he wondered if the designers of such a weapon had ever considered, although he had his doubts considering survivability was a pretty low concern during the Cold War.

“Cap…!” Sierra called, and he slammed the throttles straight to the firewall as he pulled the nose up and away from the burning slab of shattered asphalt behind them. Triple-A fire continued to follow them as they climbed away, but by nothing short of a miracle, the tracer fire never once hit them, and as they reached a thousand feet, he felt himself breathing a sigh of relief for the first time this evening, and even a little bit of laughter at just how insane that had all been…

“I think they won’t be getting any fighters airborne tonight…” He said, looking back towards the runway and the field, just before Kureha rolled in, in a dive-bombing attack – something they clearly weren’t expecting, as the gunners fired on what looked like their insertion path instead, rather than the one that the Thud was coming in from.

If he’d thought the fire from their dash had been something to behold, the sight of almost thirty 500-pound bombs dropping into a relatively confined area was something else, and made for an almighty fireworks display, if nothing else…

“Solitaire, good effect on target. Looks like the commanders are running around like headless chickens now.” Batcat told them.

“Magic to Solitaire, you have interceptors heading your way. MIG-25s from the speed of them…” Well, there went the idea of outrunning them…

The Tornado was fast on the deck, but the MIG-25 was faster, the behemoth of an interceptor using two engines from a cruise missile design to essentially brute force the airframe to reach Mach 3 at altitude, and supersonic speeds at low level.

Fortunately, whilst it had the speed to run them down, it didn’t really have the weapons to do so – from what they knew of the Adamasian Air Forces Foxbats, they were using the long-range R-40, the Acrid, which was certainly a potent bomber-killer… but not so great at tracking low flying, and fast-moving strikers like they flew.

In reality, no sane pilot would’ve tried to hunt down an escaping Tornado on the deck in a MIG-25, but based off what they knew, the Foxbats were the Generalissimo’s propaganda squadron – a squadron of former models, picked for their loyalty to his regime firstly, and their competence second.

Still, he knew the Foxbat could carry other missiles – the extremely manoeuvrable, but short ranged R-60 Aphid could be carried too, though he reckoned they were carrying just the R-40s tonight. He couldn’t answer why he thought that; it was just a gut feeling he had…

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Sierra called out from the back.

“I mean, at least we can outturn them!” Kureha said, and normally, she’d have been right. The MIG-25 was fast… but much like the MIG-23 it supplanted, it had the turning circle of a large cruise ship. It wouldn’t have surprised him if most airliners could outturn a MIG-25 at full chat… those big wings may have had a vast area to them, but they also had a very high wing loading too in order to keep the massive jet in the air.

Unfortunately, they were still G-limited, thanks to the useless canoes under their fuselage now, or at least, they were until he could eject the canoes over the coast. About the only thing he was thankful for was that those MIGs would have to be vectored towards them by a ground-based controller, and if Nautilus and Yuna were doing their jobs, those controllers would be very, very busy right now…

Not that it was going to help them though, as those Foxbats were bearing down on them fast…

“So what’s the plan, Cap?”

“Jettison the canoes, and we’ll handle those Foxbats.” He answered, questioning his own sanity in that moment. The Tornado was not a fighter, by anyone’s definition, and even the Air Defence Variant, the F.3, was an interceptor, rather than a fighter.

Still, they had a pair of Sidewinders and a pair of cannons onboard – more than enough to make sure those MIGs had a bad day when they got too close… “Radar lock, they’re firing on us!”

“Drop chaff and flares when we’re on the deck. Those MIGs don’t exactly have a look down-shoot down radar, thankfully. ” He hoped they didn’t anyway – Philia had told them to expect Foxbat-A’s, the earliest MIG-25 variant, or possibly even a downgraded version of that, given it was being exported… and Yuktobania shared a similar ethos with the Soviet Union in that regard, that ethos being: “yes, we’ll give you arms, but no way are we giving you what we use. Also, the engine will be knackered in thirty hours, and you’ll have to send it back to us and buy a new one then.”

Watching against his instruments carefully, he dropped the Tornado down to fifty foot above the waves and ordered for chaff and flares to be dispensed. Much to his relief, he watched as one of the R-40s sent after them passed almost a thousand feet above their heads, whilst the other had disappeared altogether. “They missed.” Sierra sighed in relief behind him.

“Boys, looks like they’ve decided they’re killing you regardless. They’re descending in hot pursuit!”

“Don’t you just love being the centre of attention?” Sierra added sarcastically.

“I’ve got a plan, just make sure the Sidewinders are ready to go!”

“Setting them up now.” He heard from the backseat and glanced over his shoulder to see two trails behind them – the two Foxbats, no doubt.

Two trails that soon became one, and a huge plume of water where the other had been. Were these seriously the pilots entrusted to defend an island, because if they were, he wasn’t sure he’d have slept very well knowing that they were the first line of defence…

“He’s closing on us, Jet…”

“Yep, I can see that.” He told him, opening the airbrakes, and throwing the Tornado into a right-hand bank. “Ready with the missiles!” He shouted as the Foxbat flew straight past and he caught a glimpse of the full outline of the aircraft…

Before they were buffeted like nothing he’d ever felt before. “Oh christ!” He shouted as he wrestled the stick to pull them away from an impending high-speed collision with the water, and to get them into a firing position…

A growl roared into both of their headsets, and before anything had to be said, a Sidewinder dropped away from the rail, and flew straight into the back of the Foxbat. Rather than the instant disintegration he’d have expected, the large and heavy interceptor carried, though even he could tell its engines bore the brunt of the impact from the Sidewinder, and both aircraft pulled away from the perils of an almost wave top dogfight…

“Well, even if we didn’t get ‘em, I doubt they’re coming back for another-” Sierra started, as a bright orange glow engulfed the canopy ahead of them… followed quickly by an explosion that threw his hands off the stick briefly, before he regained his composure…

“I think you’re probably right.” He said sarcastically.

What had only moments before been a MIG-25 was nothing more than a fireball and a smoke cloud above the dark and cold waters… and a lot of slivers of metal, many of which now found themselves showering the Tornado in razor sharp blades.

“Damage report?”

“Brown alert.”

“Brown?”

“Named for the colour of my pants after that one.”

“Well, at least it’s not red, aye?” He joked. “Solitaire Lead to Magic, the MIGs are dealt with, and we’re heading home.”

“Understood Solitaire Lead, Batcat is reporting positive effects of the bombing. Don’t think they’ll be getting anyone else up tonight…”

“Thank god for small mercies, huh.”

/-/

In the right-hand seat of the Raven, Yuna was having a surprisingly fun night, she thought to herself, whilst her colleagues fought a pair of MIG-25s…

Not only was she broadcasting live across the island of Adamas, but watching the mild concern of the GCI staff as their fighters went off wherever they felt like it, because they were spoofing the instructions issued to the fighters as well as the disruptive radio broadcast…

“Good morning, General! We’ve got one heck of a lineup for you tonight!” She grinned as she spoke into the microphone aboard the modified Raven. “But one from a caller first! The Clash are up now, with a message to you especially General… Rock the Casbah!”

“You’re having way too much fun with this, Yuna…” Naut rolled his eyes, though she knew he was trying not to laugh inside.

“What can I say, I think I’ve found my calling!”

“Radio DJ?” He asked with a look that rapidly changed from “why?” to “yeah, actually that makes sense”.

“Besides, you never know what’s going on on the ground. Maybe they’ll put their arms down and start dancing instead of fighting…”

“Unlikely, but it would make this a lot easi-missile lock!”

Switching from idle chatter, she went back into systems officer mode, deploying chaff and flares into the night sky as Naut broke the Raven into a tight turn to the starboard. “Idol One, we’ve got an interceptor coming for us!” She called out over the combined arms frequency.

“Idol One, hang in there. I’m on my way!” Yuuki called out, no doubt having completed their bombing raid. Her Sea Harrier wasn’t the best interceptor, but she’d be damned if there were many better fighters at Canaveral when it came to a low-level dogfight…

Now they just had to survive until she arrived.

“Yuna, any ideas what it is?” Naut asked, and she craned her head around to get a look at the pursuing light. Only one plume behind it, so it probably wasn’t a Foxbat at least…

“MIG-23 by the looks of the afterburner trail.”

“There goes running away as an option then.” Naut sighed. “Might be able to outturn it though…” Considering the EF-111 was a gigantic aircraft, the size of most medium sized airliners, it said something about the turning performance of the MIG-23 that they could be reasonably certain they would outturn the much smaller interceptor…

Fast it was, agile, not so much, as the captains had taught them after the Battle of the Bay. As Captain Sierra had put it, any pilot who entered a turning fight with the MIG-23 was automatically on the offensive, because of how poor the aircraft was in a turn…  

He probably hadn’t anticipated they would be flying an aircraft that had no way to shoot back though, and short of annoying the MIG into the ground, they could only dance around the aircraft so long before the pilot figured out a way of hitting them, either with missiles or the GSh-23 cannon it carried…

As it turned out, the captain had been a bit off – he’d probably meant any fighter could outturn it, and despite the designation, the EF-111 was not a fighter. It could just about hold its own in snap turns to evade fire, but in a sustained turning fight…

Thankfully for them, the first shot – probably an IR guided missile, likely an R-23T at this range - missed, trashed by the flares they’d released, but the second shot, the one that had tripped the radar warning receiver, hadn’t obviously failed to hit them and she could no longer see the vapour trail that the missile left.

“Idol One, I’m a minute away, are you guys still alive?”

“We’re still dancing out here, Yuuki!” She told her. “We’ve got a MIG-23 chasing us though!”

“And he’s just fired another missile!” Naut called out, as another missile trail became evident.

“Punching flares!” She told him, as flares ejected from the back of the aircraft and the missile sailed past them. She couldn’t help but be glad that the Adamasian aircraft were still armed with the old R-3 Atoll, meaning that those missiles were far more limited than the more advanced R-60s that they had fought against with the Belkans…

That didn’t mean it wouldn’t still hurt if it hit them, and almost as soon as they had successfully evaded one of the Atolls, a second exploded underneath the Raven, showering the underside in shrapnel.

“Idol One, we’re hit!” She told them, looking over the instruments and out of the cockpit to spot for obvious damage. She couldn’t see any, but that wasn’t surprising given it was likely beneath them…

“We’re still airworthy though.” Naut called out in addition. “Probably won’t be if we take another hit like that, though!”

“Yuuki to Yuna, I have him!” In the distance, she watched as a missile trail streaked away from a smaller aircraft – no doubt Yuuki’s Sea Harrier – and straight for the pursuing MIG. Not that it had chance to hit it, she noticed, as the MIG pilot attempted to bank out of the way and found himself ploughing straight into the Southern Sea below them, the only remains of the hapless MIG being the waves around the crash site… “Aww, I nearly got him then! Ah well, I still get a maneuvering kill, right?”

“I’d say you will, yeah!”

Out of nowhere, Nautilus went from relieved at their dance with death, to a dawning realisation of what was coming head on with them… “Oh you have got to be-”

“What is-woah!” She felt the Raven shudder violently again, this time only barely staying the right side up as it absorbed what felt like the entire flak inventory around the Northern Bay area…

Which was worrying, because most of the flak guns in that area had been neutralised! “Batcat, tell the ground forces to stop shooting us!”

Thankfully, it only took a moment before the shaking stopped, and the pair could regain their senses without risk of being blown up by triple-A shells. “Oh, thank the heavens…”

“Idol One to Command, we’re heading back to Bana. We’re in bad shape and could do with landing ASAP.”

“Nautilus, Yuna, are you okay?”

“Yes captain, we just took a few hits back there. We’re fine, though Lisbeth is probably going to kill us…”

“Yeah, well let’s make sure you get back first, shall we?” Jet told them. “Idol Two, you still there?”

“Loud and clear, Captain. Coastal batteries have been dealt with, and Zeliska and Itsuki are heading back your way.”

“Got it. Zeliska, Itsuki, if you two are out of bombs, head back with Idol One. They took a hit, but they’re still in one piece.”

“Solitaire Three to Lead, I’ll take them back with me.”

“Understood, Zel. There’re still fighters out here, so keep your heads on a swivel.”

“Will do, Lead.”

“Itsuki to Jet, I will continue to engage fighters. I still have weaponry onboard, and it would be a shame if I weren’t to use them…”

“Understood, Itsuki, good hunting. Twilight, Itsuki’s heading towards your AO, just to give you a heads up.”

With the MIGs dealt with, and Rain and Seven moving into position to take over their track, she looked back at the coast and realised something – as much fun as the musical theatre of their operation was, the ground assaults were nothing short of carnage as the fires raised high into pitch black night sky, and fighter bombers carried on pouring in to release their payloads on the coastal targets that were left…

/-/

The first wave of aircraft began to return just before the sun had risen at Bana, and amongst the very first was the damaged EF-111, which had made a textbook landing, despite sustaining some nasty damage from their blue-on-blue incident and the partially exploded Atoll still firmly lodged in the Raven’s backside…

“It’s not great, but it could’ve been a lot worse.” Lisbeth admitted. “Most of its cosmetic, so I can patch it up quickly, but there’s a few areas that I’m going to need to have it grounded to fix. Mostly in the ECM gear though, so you’ll still be flying… just not as effective.”

“No more radio shows then, I take it?”

“Not until I’ve checked it won’t just catch fire spontaneously.” Lisbeth told her, and her expression dropped.

“Besides, you aren’t the only ones who took some flak either…” Lisbeth looked over pointedly at the Captains, and both looked away sheepishly.

“We did take down a Foxbat though…” Sierra told them with an unhelpful grin.

“How?” Lisbeth asked. “By ramming it? Because there’s enough of it in your plane that I’d believe that!” She pointed to the almost hundreds of pieces of shrapnel now lodged firmly across the Tornado, and watched as the two of them looked at each other with a strained intake of air…

“We were a bit close; I’ll grant you that.” Jet admitted, uncharacteristically awkwardly.

“Men…” Lisbeth walked away, grumbling about the opposite sex.

“Well, that went better than I imagined.” Sierra said with a sigh, as he slumped into his shoulders.

“How?” Naut asked, an amused look on his face.

“Well, we all still have our limbs and our lives, right?”

“I don’t think Miss Lisbeth would do that… would she?” She asked, spotting that Lisbeth was still in earshot of their conversation, and looking deeply unamused by it.

“Eh, you don’t work for her, Yuna. She absolutely would. She is, to quote Jet, a bloody mean bit-”

“I can hear you, asshole!” Lisbeth shouted from across the room, accompanied by a middle finger, interrupting the cursing.

“See?” Sierra exclaimed, as he hadn’t just been poking at that particular bear…

“One day, that gob of yours is going to get you killed.” Jet told him bluntly, though the reaction to such a comment was quite underwhelming, considering… he simply shrugged. “Anyway, whilst you try to dodge a Lisbeth shaped bullet, I need to go have words with the Commander about something…”

/-/

The talk with the Commander was not going quite as he’d hoped. Actually, it almost felt like Bercouli was being purposefully obtuse, trying his hardest not to see even the most obvious of points, to the point that he was forced to almost spell things out…

“We nearly got torn up out there, Commander, because we didn’t know what was going on half of the time.” Jet told him bluntly. “It was only a damn miracle that we all got back, and truthfully, I doubt that’ll hold, sir.”

“Captain, we are fighting a war. You know that as well as I do, and in war, we lose people. It’s a harsh reality, but it is reality. Given who we’re fighting, you need to get yer head in the game, kid.” He thought twice about asking who it really was they were fighting, given what they all knew, and especially with what they suspected after the failed rescue attempt. Too much had gone wrong during that operation for there not to have been a leak somewhere and based on how certain the Commander had been about those missiles, he couldn’t help but agree with something that Sierra had floated as an idea.

Bercouli was an old war hero, and old heroes tend not to adapt well to peace time. He did seriously have to wonder if the man knew a lot more than he was letting on, or what exactly his agenda was out here…

It hadn’t taken long for Bercouli to walk off with his back turned before Jet offered an insulting gesture in return – one of a two fingered insult to the French variety.

“I take it he didn’t share your concerns then?” Zeliska asked, with a sympathetic smile.

“How’d you know?”

“You’ve still got your fingers in a V-shape despite the fact your hand’s by your side.” She answered, with a little snicker. “But yes, I do get the distinct impression he’s too busy trying to hunt down the FRO, instead of actually co-ordinating us too.”

“I’ll give you something, Cap, you’ve got balls. It takes a braver man than I to flip off the war hero…” Sierra admitted, tapping a hand to his shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, I didn’t flip him off…” Jet dismissed with a roll of his eyes. “I gave him the V for victory instead.”

“Yeah, that’s what that means…” Sierra drawled, with a smug laugh at the end. “Still, it doesn’t look great that he’s acting like that. Even if he’s not up to anything, I kind of see why he was passed up for promotion a load of times.”

Almost as soon as they’d said that, the conversation was interrupted by the rumbling of their stomachs – it had been nearly a day since they’d properly eaten, and a chocolate bar or bag of sweets snuck into the cockpit didn’t really count, even if it did keep their energy up a little bit.

“I think we should probably go put our stuff in our lodgings and go get food. We can continue this discussion then, eh?”

There was no answer, just a load of enthusiastic nodding as the group split apart to head to the lodgings at Bana Base…

/-/

Despite the name, Bana Base was neither a base, nor was it anything to do with the Osean military. It was, in fact, a holiday park that they had requisitioned over the summer low months, in order to house the many, many staff needed for operations of the magnitude that Diamond was, especially given they were hosting both Osean and Yuktobanian forces at the former Bana City airport…

His first reaction to that news had been somewhat positive – holiday camps were meant for families after all, so they would probably have more space than their usual huts at Canaveral.

That was until they had reached the front desk, where they had, for all intents and purposes, been thrown a key and told to go look for their accommodation.

The camp itself was full of chalets, low buildings that had clearly been designed by someone with a ruler and very little else, and to say either of their reactions were positive as they walked through the camp looking for chalet 141 would be an understatement.

“Jesus.” Sierra thought aloud. “This is bleak…”

“It’s like Pontins but worse… somehow.”  He answered, remembering that holiday in Brean Sands. Some people might have said having a holiday less than an hour from your house was a little bit pointless, and he’d have agreed normally, but the idea had seemed enticing at the time…

And then they’d ended up at Pontins. 

“Ah, 141, that’s us.” Sierra snapped him out of that, as he opened the door to their chalet. He already knew what to expect, and even so, he was disappointed by what they saw…

A sofa, a small kitchenette, a bedroom through a plain wooden door and a table and three chairs. “The 1970s called, they want their style back…”

“It’s 1969, Cody.” He pointed out.

“Oh yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Sierra slapped himself. “So… you want the sofa, or the bed?”

“There’ll be two beds in there.” He told him, as they poked their head around the wooden door…

“And an army of bedbugs by the looks of those mattresses.” Sierra answered blithely.

“I’ll take the sofa.” He told him, deciding he would be taking the more comfortable option. Well, more comfortable in the universal sense, anyway. He imagined it wouldn’t be all that comfortable either way, but it certainly beat sleeping on those rank mattresses…

/-/

After some time to settle in (which in both his and Sierra’s cases involved literally throwing their bags down beside their chosen areas, and immediately leaving to go and get food), the members of the 302^nd met up in the dining area of the camp…

Also known as the pub.

Was it a bit bleak that they were all in the pub at 10:30 in the morning? Yes, yes it was. Was it also cheaper than everywhere else? Yes, it was.

Besides, it wasn’t like they were drinking – it was just for breakfast, and pub breakfasts were usually pretty good, in his experience.

“So, what happens next?” Rain asked, twirling her fork.

“Best guess? We finish off the Adamasians in the air, whilst the Yuktobanians deal with them on the ground.” Sierra answered. “Still, there’s a few wildcards that I’m not sure on.”

“Like the whole FRO thing?” Kureha asked. “I dunno, that just… something feels off there.”

“I happen to agree with Kureha there. Bercouli is not telling us the full story, that much I’m certain of.” An unusually expressive Itsuki answered – probably still starving as they waited for their food to be bought over to their table.

“It’s not just that, I was talking to Tiese and Ronye, and they mentioned that Pitohui and LLENN knew one of the Adamasian pilots. Called her Medina, I think.” Rain added.

“That’s not too surprising, we knew the Adamasians were using mercenaries to bolster their numbers.” He pointed out, though it was a little worrying that they knew who she was, enough to be bantering with her…

“We still have no solid intelligence on those missiles either, which is concerning.” Seven reminded them all of the reason they were supposedly going into this island… the stolen Scud missiles.

“We did intercept signals traffic that indicated they were being moved, but we got targeted by a SAM at that point, so we had to break off.” Rain explained.

“So, they knew you were snooping then. That’s worrying.” Zeliska hummed.

“That’s not all. Ronye told me they were using the same jamming tricks we were doing over St Calippo, though without the music.”

“That answers one question – who were Notte and Rano working for. The Adamasians, I guess.”

“Doubt it, cap. I’d probably say they were more likely working with that Chudelkin’s lot, but even so…” Sierra trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

“They know some of our tricks, yeah.” He finished, before some of the members of the 303^rd plonked themselves down besides them.

“Let me guess, your operation went to plan as much as ours did?”

“I know the old saying is that no plan survives contact with the enemy, but it does kind of help to survive contact with your allies!” Philia exclaimed. “Is the Commander usually that secretive with what’s going on?”

“Not really, he’s usually pretty hands off.” Kirito admitted. “Though I guess there’s a difference between handling one wing of pilots and handling the majority of mission command for a major joint operation.”

“Yeah, well, if he keeps up this level of secrecy, someone’s going to end up taking a missile to the face.” Kureha told everyone.

“It is troubling, I agree. But perhaps we should see how things play out before we judge him further, should we not?” Alice said, as their meals began to arrive, and a sense of normality took over for the first time in around a week.

A sense of normality that the group were aware was just as fragile as their planes often were, and a sense of normality that would soon be completely shattered… though no one at the tables could have known that in that moment.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 - 100 Hours, pt.1

T + 15 minutes…

Jet found himself woken up as he fell through the air.

For a split second, he thought he was still falling from the Tornado, his parachute failing to open and that those would be his last moments before he was reduced to a smear on the hills outside Tulau, though the dull thud against the scorched grass, rather than a high-speed splat, told him quite conclusively that he had fallen from a tree or some other ground clutter that had instead broken his fall…

"Oww." He groaned, picking his battered body off the grass, and looking around.

Where they had come down was amongst the hills around eight to ten miles outside the capital – far enough away that any response would take a while to get to the site, but not so far that they wouldn't be there by sunset.

Assuming they weren't too busy dealing with the burning city, that was.

The city of Tulau was lit up like he imagined Dresden might have looked on certain nights – fires raged high into the sky and shone bright enough to give even the hills a distinct orange hue, whilst the storm clouds that had gathered over the city earlier in the evening had become something far more dangerous: a firestorm.

He couldn't help but feel guilty at that, having read up on the phenomenon at some point; a fire so intense that it was able to generate its own convective current, and burn hot enough to melt tarmac… and they had been partly responsible for that.

Not completely though. No, that fell to whoever had given the Administration those Scuds in the first place, and more so, had given them the warheads for them. Whatever they were, he knew two things: first, they were some kind of cluster weapon, designed to scatter burning incendiary devices across the target area, and two, they had disabled a sizeable portion of the Scud arsenal.

Still though, that didn't allay his guilt – after all, their targets had been the Scuds, but the Yuktobanian targets were mostly on the close air support type of mission, and whilst he ensured his pilots did their best to reduce any possible civilian casualties, the same couldn't be said for the Yukes.

They had watched MIG-27s launching strafing attacks on suspected MANPADs and trucks carrying supplies and weapons, and the "cone of death" that those things produced with that GSh-6-30 of theirs was both a sight to behold… and a mass casualty event waiting to happen.

Or one that had actually happened already, if he was honest. The 30mm guns weren't the only thing that they carried that could wreak utter carnage on the ground; those rocket pods and unguided bombs were just as bad, and when the practice of target verification seemed to be "if it moves, kill it", well… he wasn't expecting anyone to come out of this looking good.

That pit of guilt could be stared into later though, he decided, having spotted some kind of APC moving up the hill, and heading his way.

Sadly, pilots weren't issued with RPGs as standard – they didn't fit in the cockpits after all – and the M1911 he carried was about as much use as a BB gun against any kind of armoured vehicle, which meant there was only really one course of action…

Hide.

"The wreck is about a mile to the south." He heard one soldier say.

"Hopefully the bastard died in it."

"Yes, Chudelkin wanted any downed pilots taken to him. I think I would rather die in a wreck too…"

That… wasn't good news. If the head honcho wanted them bought to him, that only meant one thing – they would be used to be made an example of, and somehow, he doubted it was in the "stand in front of the class" kind of way.

More likely the "hacked to death with machetes" type was Chudelkin, he reckoned. Whichever it was though, he had to find Sierra, and fast. Before these goons got to him!

Without a chance to utter a single curse, a bullet tore through the first soldier's head, spraying blood across his counterpart as the second turned away from him, only to meet the same fate as his colleague.

"Like pigs to the slaughter, aren't they?" A voice said, and he unholstered his 1911. Whoever this person was, they were clearly armed and well trained, though he couldn't say he'd noticed him; only the two dead soldiers, and an APC… and APCs weren't known for talking. Not without recreational drugs being involved, anyway. "Ah, forgive me. I am part of the resistance." The man stood in front of him put his gun down; a sign of peace to him, and he came out from his hiding spot.

"Ah, a pilot… you are Osean, no?" He asked.

"Yeah, Osean. You are…?"

"You can call me Viktor. How about you?"

"Uhh, Captain Jet Edmondson. 302nd Fighter Squadron." He replied, remembering what he was always taught. Name, rank and number only, nothing else. "Thanks for the save there."

"Do not mention it. We are on the same side here; after all, we both want the Administration to fall, do we not?"

"Yeah." He answered. "Don't suppose you saw where our planes went down, did you?"

"A bomber went down about a mile that way. That was about ten minutes ago." Viktor pointed to a hillside; one he remembered as Hill 199 on the maps they used. "I only saw a single parachute though…"

Jet winced. He really hoped Viktor was mistaken, or that the second chute had been slightly after he had seen it, else it meant Sierra hadn't escaped from the stricken Tornado as it spun to earth…

"That would've been my plane. I need to go and find my backseater." He answered as he began to walk in the direction that Viktor had pointed.

"The area will be crawling with the pigs soon, you do understand that… right?" Viktor seemed hesitant, and he could wholeheartedly understand that… but he was going to go and find and help Sierra, and that really was non-negotiable.

"I'm aware of that, yes. If my backseater went down with the plane, he might still be alive, and I refuse to leave him to that lot!"

/-/

T + 45 minutes…

A mile was a surprisingly long way when you were completely exhausted, Jet had soon discovered. Even running on adrenaline, as he was, it felt almost like time had slowed down as the two of them walked to the crash site, and Francois filled him in on what it was truly like to live under the Administration…

Horrible didn't begin to cover it. He wasn't sure the words really existed that did, if he was quite honest…

Coming up on the wreck though, his worst fears were slowly realised – the Tornado was nothing more than a charred pile of rubble on the ground; a scene that no human could have survived. He felt physically sick at that realisation, that Sierra – no, Cody, one of his best friends was almost certainly dead now. That swirling vortex of emotions inside of him; hatred, fury, sorrow, all of them manifested in only a single word.

"Fuck." He said, still in shock.

"There is a parachute over here!" Viktor called from further up Hill 199, and he found himself sprinting up the hill faster than he'd ever run before, a small glimmer of hope reappearing in amongst that swirling vortex.

Reaching the chute, he pulled it away from the person it had consumed, and he knew, simply from the fact that it had opened far too low to be safe, that the person beneath was no longer on this mortal plane. The only question now was who was underneath it, and as he pulled the chute off them, he got his answer as that glimmer of hope was snuffed out like a lid being put over a candle.

The body underneath it was Sierra, badly burned and with his limbs contorted unnaturally, the bones broken… no, shattered, from the impact with the ground. What was most disturbing about this though, was not the burns and shattered limbs that wouldn't look out of place in a horror movie, but that his eyes were still open, and if he felt slightly charitable, he'd have even said there was still life in them…

"Wake up you idiot!" He hissed at the body, as if expecting him to magically come back to life.

"I think he is long past waking up, Captain." Viktor said sadly, his head bowed in respect. "I am sorry for your loss though, sir. We have all lost friends to this infernal regime…"

If Viktor had carried on talking, then Jet had completely tuned him out by now as he checked Sierra's pockets. He pulled out very little, only a few bits of string and fluff, and a picture that had neatly been folded up.

A picture of himself, Sierra and Kureha stood in front of their F-4 back on the Harrier. He looked at the Phantom, and spotted its markings: "Osean Navy", a sign that the picture was taken on their very first day here – he'd repainted it to say "THE NAVY" within the week, he remembered that much.

A picture he now put in his pocket, a reminder of his friend – the last reminder he had of him.

"Rest in peace, mate." He said bleakly as he closed his friend's eyes for the last time, before sighing heavily. "They'll hang for this, I promise you that much. I'll fucking hang them, if I get-" He muttered, before being returned to reality by Viktor.

"Whilst the spirit is appreciated, we are but two. They considerably outnumber us. I am sure your friend would not wish for you to die in an ill-conceived effort for vengeance, and that your other friends may need your help more than he will." Viktor pointed out, and he let himself simmer down a little.

"I suppose so." He sighed.

"The other two aircraft crashed to the east, on Hill 219, though I did not see them go down." He could only hope that Alice and Eugeo had escaped from their aircraft, else he wouldn't be the only one grieving when they made it back to Bana; Eydis would be a complete wreck and to be quite honest, he doubted that much of the 303rd would be any better too…

They had lost one member, and decided to utterly destroy a civilian port in vengeance, so he could only imagine their response to losing two members…

/-/

T + 2 hours…

Alice would have never said she was an outdoorsy type of girl. Of course she went outdoors, and when they were younger, the adventures that the three of them had had were definitely rather outdoorsy, but she was not the type of person to prefer more intensive physical activities, such as hiking or climbing, over say, sitting and reading a good book…

Which was unfortunate for her, as she found herself hiking and climbing across the hills to the east of Tulau, in gear that was never really designed for that.

Since she had landed, she had been looking for Eugeo, or hell, even Jet and the American, but to no avail. Wherever the boys had crashed, it had not been within easy walking distance of her position, and so, she made an effort to hike back towards the town, and towards the Yuktobanian held areas of town, where she would at least be able to get a message back to their forces for help. With any luck, she would come across the three boys as she made her way back too…

That had been almost two hours ago now though, and the adrenaline rush from the ejection was fading away – her movements became slower and less methodical, whilst her reaction time began to slow down considerably as she thought increasingly about rest above everything else.

Despite that, she had only thought during her search…

Where the bloody hell were they?!

If they had come down in the same general vicinity as she had, then she should have found at least one of them by now, should she not?

"We lost contact with Lumic and Zavos up here. They said they had seen a plane crash after the fires began and were heading to investigate."

Realising that she was in trouble – there was one of her and at least two of them, with more on their way no doubt – she took cover behind a tree nearby and hoped – no, prayed – that they would simply walk on by…

"Ah ha!" She froze, every muscle in her body tensing up as they spoke. "Yuba has found one of the pilots. Dead. His parachute didn't open." She forced back a whimper at the knowledge that one of them was dead, knowing that even the most minor of sounds could give her away.

Thankfully, one of them turned away for a moment, before he called the other over. "I see a chute down there. Looks like the pilot abandoned it though."

It wasn't hers, she knew that much. It would have taken a miracle of nature to have blown that far to the east against a prevailing westerly wind, but that meant that one of them was still alive at least. A hateful part of her mind chose that moment to make itself known, as it started valuing each of them for how she was most accepting of being dead…

A part that she soon silenced, in order to continue eavesdropping on the soldiers in case they would reveal anything more useful and made a note to expunge that part of her psyche, if she could do such a thing. Unfortunately, the soldiers had come to the same realisation as herself… "Then at least one of them is alive. If we find them, maybe Chudelkin will let us keep them. My house needs work done after all the bombing…"

Despicable.

That was the only word that came to mind to describe these soldiers – that they would use prisoners for something so utterly tedious as manual labour.

Thankfully, his colleague seemed to be a tad more intelligent, and reminded him who they worked for. "You have too much faith in that man. No doubt he would kill us for daring to speak against the plans of her eminence…"

The plans of her eminence? What did that mean, and who the hell was "her eminence"? Adamas did have a dictator, but he was, as far as anyone knew, male.

That left a horrifying thought – someone was pulling the strings on the person pulling the strings.

"A man can dream, can't he?" The less intelligent one shrugged. "Besides, I heard that one of them was one of those Angels… you're telling me you wouldn't want her waiting on you hand and foot?" She fought the urge to retch at the thought, and instead thought of the image of strangling them with the chains she would no doubt have found herself in.

The other one didn't have chance to answer before they spotted something. "Hey! You!" For the first time in her life, Alice truly froze in fear, every single muscle in her body choosing that moment to freeze in position, no matter how much she wanted to run away… "Blondie!"

This was it, wasn't it? She was going to die… or worse, and no one would know what happened to her. Eugeo, Eydis, Selka, her father… they would never know what happened to her. Just another casualty on the board-

"Yes?" Someone else responded, and in that moment, so did her muscles…

"What are you doing out here?"

"Just looking for someone."

"Yeah, well, these hills are dangerous. I'd go back to the city if I were you, pal."

"Oh yes, of course." The new voice answered, before two distinct noises that she recognised – one being a blunt object being administered to one of their skulls, whilst the other sounded like an unsuppressed gunshot… "Perhaps they should've heeded their own advice, hey captain?"

"Shame this one will probably wake up, but we could do with his kit." Another voice, this time one she absolutely did recognise…

"Jet!"

"Alice?!" He visibly jumped back in surprise, before pacing over to her.

"You really do not know how good it is to see you right now." She told him with an exhausted laugh.

He sighed, and in an uncharacteristic display for the Brit, pulled her into the tightest hug he could manage – almost rivalling Eydis for that award…

Despite being completely baffled by the display of an affection that she didn't believe existed between the two of them – they were colleagues and acquaintances, certainly, but she was not sure either of them would have described the other as a friend, merely a friend of a friend – she returned the favour . Right now, she did not mind the odd behaviour so much; she was simply glad to have someone she knew around her, even if they were starting to cry into her shoulder…

Wait.

Oh, she was stupid sometimes… "I heard someone had died." She told him matter of factly, and felt his grip tighten, as if the words were forcing his muscles to constrict. "Was it…"

"Sierra, yeah. " He mumbled as they pulled apart. She had heard from the American – okay, more that she was eavesdropping, but she had heard it from him – about how Jet had snapped at Notte back at Canaveral, calmly telling her how they would make her existence the dictionary definition of suffering for what she had done to them, and for being responsible for Koharu's death…

Now though? There was no fire in his eyes and no ice either, just… a lonely and detached sadness. As if he truly felt alone, and in that moment, she understood why he had resorted to hugging her on sight…

He wanted to feel something.

Anything.

She sighed, and tried to give him a reassuring smile, as Eydis would have done in that moment, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I really don't know what to say. He annoyed me so much, and yet, to know he is gone…"

"This is rather touching, yes, but the Jesters are after us…" The other man said, and she couldn't help but think something was off about him.

Something about his panic did not feel particularly genuine, but rather as if it were an act being put on to corral them somewhere… "We were not introduced."

"Does it matter?"

"Viktor, just introduce yourself or she isn't going to-"

Did Jet realise who he was, or had the fool genuinely not read the files that Philia had… oh, right. She had only given them to Kirito, who told Eugeo, who then told herself. They really needed to have a good, hard look at their information sharing, sometimes… "Viktor? Jet, back away slowly…"

"Alice, what are you-" Before he could finish his question, he found himself with a gun pointed at his temple. "Of course." He sighed.

"He is one of Chudelkin's lieutenants – Viktor Nozov."

"Yeah, I'd sort of figured from the gun against my head." He replied blankly.

"Good, now all of that is over, you're coming with me." Viktor told them, and Jet rolled his eyes. "I was hoping to find all of you, but two is better than none, hmm?"

Neither of them found themselves disagreeing with him there, especially not whilst the cold-hearted bastard had a gun pointed to someone's head…

/-/

T + 28 hours…

If she had found the hike that she had taken to meet up with Jet exhausting, then she had not seen the trek that Viktor forced them to undertake. It had been almost an entire day now, since they set off…

The man was a brute, plain and simple, and he had shown that when he began to beat them for daring to slow down… or even talk between them.

"Perhaps you shall be joining your friend soon enough, hey captain?"

He could say hello when they ensured he found his way to the fiery pits of the inferno too, and he could rest assured, they would be sending the cruel and conniving bastard there as soon as was humanly possible!

"Fuck you." Jet spat, only to receive the butt of the stolen Kalashnikov to his face, knocking him to the floor.

"That was not nice, was it?" Viktor sneered as he stood over Jet. "I am the one person here who can control your fate… if Yefim finds you, well… let us say that you shall never see freedom again."

Whoever this Yefim was, he must have been higher up in the Jesters… or some kind of torturer. Either was bad news, she knew that much, but he had a point – he was currently the lesser of two evils, and being defiant would only work when they had a way to fight back. Currently, they would merely be cut down, and left for dead like so many of the bodies that had found in the hills – shot in the back of the head, and tossed into trenches to be buried by the fighting as it climbed the hills outside Tulau – rather than tortured for any information they knew, and then brutalised to make one of their sickening videos.

She looked away, suppressing a guttural growl as she did. A gesture that Viktor took as her deciding against undergoing a similar punishment to Jet… "See, the girl gets it. Besides, I would hate to damage that pretty face of yours…"

Now she was going to throw up, she decided.

"Touch her, and I ram that AK so far up your arse you'll be coughing up bullets." Jet told him, without a hint of exaggeration in his voice.

"Ohh, a touchy subject, I presume…"

"Nah, just can't stand bullies like you." He stood back up with a callous smirk on his face. "And she doesn't need me to kick your arse for her, that much I will tell you." Alice sighed, both thankful for the intervention, and wishing that he'd picked a better time, because she knew what would happen now…

"Oh, is that so?" Viktor asked, before a punch slammed into Jet's stomach, winding him and knocking him to the mud again. This time though, Viktor stood over him with the AK held to his head, and she knew she had to act. If she didn't, there was a chance he would be shot dead, and any chance she had at escape would be massively harder if it were just her. For some reason though, Viktor was standing in such a way that she knew meant she had only one shot at this – and preferably before he realised that as well! "Beg for his life."

And beg she did. "Please don't kill him, he's important to me and I don't know what I'd do without him…" She tried to cry, though tears were not forthcoming. It didn't matter though, as she'd been able to close in on him, and with one swift motion, her boot was administered with considerable kinetic energy to a sensitive part of the man's anatomy, whilst Jet grabbed the AK and pushed it away from his head, the few bullets firing into the mud beside him.

With Viktor keeled over on his knees in front of them, Jet grabbed the AK and held it to his head. "You know, I was lying about ramming it up there…" He told him, and she thanked God for that – that was not an image she needed to see! "But I'm not letting you go."

He took a step back and let off a burst into Viktor's kneecaps. "If I aimed right, you've got no chance of walking again."

"Just kill me then."

"Nah. I'm gonna do what your lot did to all those poor bastards down there." He told him, and pushed the wounded Jester into the ditch, before shifting some of the bodies, so they lay atop him, burying him amongst his own handiwork.

The irony would almost have been darkly amusing, had it not been such a grim fate – if he didn't die of his injuries and the blood loss from it, he would die horribly from the diseases around the decomposing bodies…

"That should stop him for a bit." Jet told her coldly, as if he was not responsible for that fate. "I refuse to kill… but that doesn't stop me from making people like him wish they were dead." He explained as they walked down the hill…

Only to walk into a roadblock organised by the Jesters.

Both of them had the same reaction, broadly speaking… "Oh, fuck off…" Jet groaned in anger.

/-/

T + 28 hours, 31 minutes…

The firefight they found themselves in was… spirited, to put it mildly.

Anyone who wasn't named him or Alice would have more accurately described it as "terrifying" or "a hail of bullets that was met with a trickle in response", but eventually, they had managed to slip away whilst the Jesters became the deserved targets of the phrase "when the hunter becomes the hunted", as sniper fire took out a group of them, and allowed him to get off one last burst before the AK became more of an intimidation tactic than anything else…

That wasn't to say they got away unscathed though, as he was now discovering… "Alice, you're bleeding."

"It isn't anything major, just a round came too close."

"Lemme see." He told her and looked at the side of her face. A round had indeed come too close – not to grazing her, but to outright killing her. It had hit the side of her face and must have done some damage to the side of her eye, given the location of the wound. "Jesus Christ, Alice! How can you still see out of that eye?"

She sighed and turned her head away. "I cannot. Is it bad?"

"Not that it'll do anything much, but I'll try to patch you up as best as I can." He told her, retrieving the medikit that Kureha made sure they all kept on them on missions, and opened it to retrieve the bandages.

"I suppose I shall do well at Halloween this year, given I shall still be wearing an eyepatch by then…" She joked, and he could just tell how terrified she was at that point – Alice had nothing that he could discern as a sense of humour, after all.

"You must be bricking it…" He told her.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, yes." She admitted. "How did you know that though?"

"You're making jokes." He answered. "You don't make jokes, and you tell us off for doing as much."

"You make it sound as if I am some kind of humourless witch." She stated, though there was a tone of sadness in her voice, almost as if she was realising what he thought of her as. "But yes, I suppose I could do with lightening up… especially after this."

A makeshift patch over her eye that was bandaged up around her head was the best he could do with the limited resources in the medikit, but it was enough to make sure she didn't do any more damage to it for the time being. Whilst ACES did have a healing mechanic, it was slow (though quicker than IRL) and honestly, it was almost as painful as healing naturally would have been – although it could heal things that certainly wouldn't heal in real life; lost limbs and loss of eyesight being the two he could imagine were the most useful…

It still meant Alice would be bandaged up for a few weeks, but she wouldn't die of an infection or anything like that… he hoped. "Yeah, well it was keeping your head on a swivel that kept us alive. If we'd followed my lead, we'd be halfway to wherever the Jesters keep their prisoners, so I wouldn't take that side out back and shoot it just yet…"

He winced realising what he'd just said, and her good eye narrowed at him slightly. "Bad choice of words there, sorry."

"Forgiven." She said, before sighing again. "And no, that one is on us. Philia filled us in, and I assumed she had filled you in as well."

"Not that I know of." He answered, trying to hide his irritation at being left in the dark at something quite so important. "C'mon, we need to get a move on, before they catch up to us."

"Who was that sniper?"

"Beats me, but I owe them a drink when we meet them." He answered, as they carried on hiking through the hills towards the Yuktobanian safe zone at the end of what they had named the Snake Pass.

With any luck, the Yuktobanian forces would have progressed far enough that they would be able to link up with them there, and get a ride back to Bana from there…

/-/

T + 35 hours…

Things were not going well for the Yuktobanian 8th Battalion, as it turned out.

Firstly, they had been hit by the remains of the destroyed Sky Scorch missile that the Adamasians had launched – though thankfully, they had been spared the worst of the impact, which had engulfed the capital of Tulau in a firestorm of a magnitude they had never seen before, the wooden buildings accelerating the flames, and leaving a nightmarish inferno where the city had been before.

Secondly, the Jesters had been able to circle around them during the chaos, bombarding them and disabling their heavy equipment; their tanks, APCs and artillery all lay in ruins after the bombardment, all whilst their air support was grounded from the firestorm, and forced the survivors to scatter throughout the hills.

Lastly, but certainly not least, Sam had been split off from her group, and was left wandering the hills with whatever supplies and ammunition she had on her – enough for at least a couple of engagements, if she made her shots count.

Which meant she had spotted the downed pilots pinned down by the Jesters at a checkpoint and stepped in to get them out of the tight spot. She had managed to get them from the engagement, and hoped she could catch up to them – they stood a better chance of reaching the field base at Mara that way, where they could call for evac for the two aircrew.

Not that they saw it that way, mind you.

"Who are you, and why did you help us?" The man now pointing a gun at her asked her. She had enough training with the AK to know he wouldn't pull the trigger… it wouldn't do anything after all, the magazine was empty.

"Relax, I'm Yuktobanian! I'm on your side!" She told him to try and put him at ease. "Name's Sam. I'm part of the 8th Battalion; we got wiped out earlier in the day by the Jesters."

"Alice…" He deferred to her for some reason.

"She is not one of them. Not that I recognise, anyway." The blonde girl answered, and she must have been hit during the engagement, as her head and left eye were now bandaged up. Yeah, she needed a field hospital right now, but the nearest one was at Mara, almost fifteen kilometres away…

"Right. Sorry about that, still a bit on edge after earlier…" The man let the gun drop onto its sling, and dangle from his shoulders. "Captain Jet Edmondson, Osean Air Force, CO of the 302nd Fighter Squadron."

Damn, he was young for a CO, wasn't he? He couldn't have been much younger than her, and already in charge of his own squadron…

"Captain Alice Schburg, 303rd Fighter Squadron." The blonde girl, Alice, told her.

"So, how far have we got to the Yuktobanian lines?" Jet asked with a grimace.

"A way back, the 8th was the tip of the spear, and well…" They were scattered to the hills, and she wasn't even sure how many had survived the Jesters' assault. "There's a small farmstead at the top of the pass that we can use to make contact with our field HQ at Mara, and we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Sounds like a plan." The two nodded in agreement, and they began to hike the remaining mile or so to the farmstead.

She could only hope the Jesters hadn't been able to push that far up yet, else they'd be walking headfirst into a trap. Still, she remembered her unit's motto… Quis audit, vincit, or in English, Who dares, wins.

"So, how did you end up out here?" She asked as they hiked further up the hillside. "I mean, you pilots aren't exactly soldiers, are you?"

"That bloody missile, that's how we got here…"

/-/

T + 47 hours…

By nothing short of a miracle, Eugeo had not only survived the detonation of the Scud above Tulau, but he had managed to drift down to relative safety near the bottom of the Snake Pass and had managed to spend the next day and a half evading Adamasian patrols.

He had tried everything he could think of to locate Alice, or even Jet and Sierra, but nothing had come from his efforts, and after nearly two days of exhaustion, of fatigue and of hunger, he felt as if he was about to pass out.

The world was now going fuzzy, almost as if his eyes refused to work without any food or water, and his head felt light at the same point. He took a brief stop, before he tried to carry on, only for his legs to feel as if they would no longer work either, and in that moment, he felt his eyes become heavy and he began to drift away, to the sounds of voices in the distance…

"We've found one of the Oseans!"

"Excellent. Hopefully, this one will put up less resistance than Viktor's pair did."

"Take him." He heard, before he felt himself being picked up by someone… "Oh, and if you find the other two, kill them. They aren't worth the trouble to capture."

Two of them, he thought to himself… shouldn't there be three?

That was the last thing he thought before he passed out fully, being carried over the shoulders of one of the Jesters…

Chapter Text

Chapter 22 – 100 Hours, pt.2

T – 2 hours…

“Solitaire One to Magic, we’re airborne and on heading one-eighteen.” Sierra called from the backseat as the Tornado lifted into the air, and he retracted the undercarriage.

“Understood Solitaire. Sorry for the short notice, but we’ve got actionable intel that the Adamasians are going to attempt to launch one of their Scuds. We need you to interdict the target and destroy it on the ground.”

“Understood Magic, any ideas where this Scud might be?” He asked, though he had a bad feeling he knew the answer already – the Adamasians, or more likely, the Jesters, had hidden the missiles next to very obviously civilian targets; hospitals, playgrounds, schools and the like, and that had made them difficult to hit accurately, if not impossible without more advanced weaponry than they realistically had access to.

“Unclear at this time. Batcat is doing their best to search for it, but we think it’s inside the city boundaries.”

What a surprise, he thought sarcastically. The Jesters had only survived this because they used human shields, and whilst the Yuktobanians weren’t shy about blowing up whatever strayed into their gunsights, they at least aimed for military targets – not hospitals and schools – as well.

“Cap, are we the only people out here?” Sierra asked, having looked over his shoulders.

“Nah, Alice and Eugeo are supposed to be escorting us to the AO.”

“Can I just say how much I hate night missions?” His WSO told him, and he couldn’t help but agree a little bit – he wanted to be lying in bed, not flying on instruments across a featureless ocean!

“This one’s a bit more important though.”

“Yeah, I know.” He answered. “We pull this off, drinks are free all week, and you get to put some actual nose art on our plane for once…”

“You complained about the last lot.” He reminded Sierra.

“Only ‘cause the girls would have torn us limb from limb for it!” He had to admit, he had a point there. As much as he loved Eydis, she did sometimes assume that because she didn’t have a problem with something, no one else would, and even in silhouette, he would agree that was probably a little too risqué…

“I presume you are talking about that pornography you call nose art.” Alice interjected. Okay, they might still get torn limb from limb still, he thought to himself, but it wouldn’t be from fighters or anti-aircraft weaponry, but rather Alice.

“Blame Liz on that one, she’s the one acting as my agent.” He shrugged. “I just do the drawings off what people ask for…”

“Classy.” Sierra rolled his eyes. “I draw porn, but in my defence, everyone asked for it anyway.”

Before he could answer, Alice interjected. “Ahem, you are one to talk. I have seen those magazines you pass around, pervert.” She spat.

“I’m guessing you guys are as tired as we are?” Ignoring the verbal sparring that was going on between Alice and Sierra, he asked Eugeo.

“Yeah, we didn’t get much rest before the call came on.” Eugeo answered. “Still, all we need to do is destroy those Scud launchers, and we can get some rest again.”

“Famous last words, buddy…” Sierra told him…

/-/

T + 39 hours…

“So that was our mission, we were to destroy the Scud they found.” Jet found himself explaining to their newfound ally.

She seemed… nice, a complete contrast to what he’d have expected of a soldier in the Yuktobanian Army, if he was honest. Truthfully, she reminded him a bit of Sortiliena, but with less of a formal manor… and bright ginger hair.

He had thought about joking they were now Gingers United, given her hair was almost the same shade as his was, but given Alice was here, he thought better of it, knowing she would accuse him of flirting with someone that wasn’t Eydis.

“It went wrong, I’m guessing?”

“When doesn’t it?” He snorted…

/-/

T – 8 minutes…

“Magic to Solitaire Lead, we’ve identified the first possible Scud launcher.” The controller aboard the Hawkeye told them. “Junction of Indigo Avenue and Costa del Cruz, it does not appear to be ready to launch at this moment.”

“Understood, Solitaire is approaching the final nav beacon. ETA is two minutes to the combat zone.” He informed them, before looking back to Sierra, his RIO having bought a rather low-tech solution for the mission… an A-Z. “Any ideas?”

“Junction of Indigo and Costa del Cruz… got it. Cap, look for the big building with a dome atop of it, and follow the street it’s on.”

That was a difficult task in broad daylight – the streets of Tulau weren’t exactly Milton Keynes, but more like those in the city of York. Narrow, twisting streets that finished at random, darting off down alleyways to become proper streets again only after they had irritated every single cartographer present…

Still, this was a do-or-die mission, and it was them that would make the difference between life and a volley of thermobaric Scuds slamming down somewhere.

No pressure then, in other words, he thought sarcastically.

“Heading please, Sierra.”

“Try 165, plus or minus five degrees.” Sierra replied, and he adjusted their course to approach a heading of 165 degrees.

He really wished they had a set of laser designation pods aboard the Tornado tonight, because this would be so much easier with Paveways. As it was though, they were left with the options of dumb bombs or cluster bombs; neither of which being great options for fighting within a city and when precision was needed most of all!

Thankfully, Liz had wired up two of the shoulder pylons to be able to carry Mavericks, so they at least had some kind of precision strike capabilities tonight. Now he just had to hope they didn’t miss more than once, or that the Adamasians only had three Scuds in total…

“Magic to Solitaire, reinforcements will be arriving in thirty-five minutes, should you need support.”

“I suppose late is better than never…” He heard Alice sigh, and he didn’t blame her – chances are that they would have been done or done for by then!

A beeping caught his attention, telling him that he was approaching the combat zone, and he descended through the low cloud cover above the city to attempt to spot the dome that Sierra had mentioned. “Bingo!” He exclaimed, catching a glimpse of it to his left. Unfortunately, the speed they were at meant… “No way we’ll make that turn.” He threw the Tornado into a climbing right-hand bank in order to drain away some of their airspeed, and to allow them to line up their attack run a little bit better than they would have otherwise been able to do on their original course.

It was now that he realised something; the winds above the city were surprisingly high that night, and the Tornado was buffeted from each direction as he descended back into the storm. “Christ, it’s like going through Iron Acton on a pushbike!” He exclaimed and readied the armament switches in his cockpit. “Sierra, your shot.”

“Got it!” He called, having put the crosshairs on the large truck at the intersection, and he watched as they were both briefly blinded by the ignition of the rocket motor through their night vision gear. “Gah!”

“Let’s not look at it next time, eh?” He joked, keeping hold of the Tornado to prevent them from losing any more altitude in the attack.

“Agreed. I feel like someone just seared my retinas…” Sierra nodded as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Batcat to Solitaire, missile hit home. Target’s on fire.” The observation aircraft called, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of flame shot up in front of them… before he quickly yanked the Tornado into a zoom climb to avoid being caught in it… “Solitaire, I think you might just be getting a medal for tonight…”

“Reckon they’ll be kind enough to give us dress uniforms to go with those medals, Batcat?”

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, that at least one Scud was now completely destroyed, which meant one less threat to everyone else…

/-/

T + 39 hours…

“So you destroyed it?”

“We thought we had. Hadn’t expected the lunatics to try and launch it anyway… despite, y’know, being on fire…”

“That does sound about right for the Jesters.”

/-/

T – 90 seconds…

“Solitaire, Alice, Eugeo, they’re attempting to launch the Scud! Stop it at all costs!”

“What on God’s Earth are they playing at?!” Alice exclaimed. “They will merely blow themselves and everything around them up!”

“I don’t think they care anymore; they just want to see everything around here burn!” He pointed out angrily. “Sierra, ready with the Mavericks!”

“Negative, I won’t have time to line it up.” He could tell there was a sense of frustration in his backseater’s voice, and he came up with a solution. “Cap, that’s the “I’m gonna do something reckless” look…”

“Only option we’ve got… I’ll go for guns on it.” He flipped the switch to arm his cannons and began to line up an attack run. “Magic, Batcat, this is Solitaire, commencing our attack run.”

“Alice, following them.”

“Eugeo, on the attack.”

He’d lost sight of the other two in the tight turn, but he had a visual cue on the burning Scud – the fire around it – and he set his sights on it. Lined up, he pulled down and held the trigger until he heard a clicking noise, the sign that he had released all 360 rounds from the twin BK-27 cannons…

“Solitaire, guns are out. No joy!”

“Eugeo, guns!” He saw the fire still glowing behind him as the Mirage tore through the fire, the missile still being ready to launch...

“Alice, guns!” The fire continued, and much like the silver Mirage ahead, her Mirage broke through the flames into a climb.

“Crap, they’re launching!” Sierra shouted, as the Scud launched away from its launch vehicle, the missile broken and aflame, but now airborne…

“That’s it then, we’ve fail-” He sighed, before the sky shone orange around them. A light brighter than almost anything else he’d ever witnessed and a vibration that threw him around the cockpit uncontrollably, as if he were a ragdoll.

He tried desperately to regain control, but whatever had just happened had sent the Tornado into a ballistic path; wildly veering around as if he were trying to get control of a bucking bronco… “We’re getting out of this!” He shouted, and pulled the controls for the ejection system, thanking god for the Tornado’s command ejection…

Sierra was shot out of the destroyed Tornado first,  and he followed a few seconds later, being battered by the high winds around them… and watching as the fires consumed the wooden city below.

That was the last thing he remembered before blacking out.

/-/

“The missile blew you up then.”

“It blew us all up. We were thrown around the sky as if held by the hand of god.” Alice explained, and despite his religious bent (or lack of), he couldn’t help but agree with her there – something was in control of the Tornado as it bucked around wildly, and it certainly wasn’t him…

“We’re here.” Sam explained, and they looked at the unremarkable farmstead that they were about to make their base of operations. “Better get comfortable for now, and I’ll try and get the radio up and running…”

/-/

T + 49 hours…

“Good morning, pig!”

Eugeo felt the world burn around him as he woke up. The air was hot, oppressive and with a foul smell carried in it, a feeling made no less awful by the water poured on him to wake him up.

“Wh-where am I? Who are you?”

“I think you’ll find we are asking the questions here, not you.” Someone responded, and he realised his neck was buckled into some kind of trolley, as were his limbs. It was in that moment that he realised exactly where he was – he’d been captured by the Jesters.

A group of complete monsters who would brutalise and torture anyone unfortunate enough to be captured by them… and he was now in that position.

“So, you don’t want to talk then. That’s okay, we know how to make you bend to our will…” The fat man in front of him said with a blasé shrug. “Twist one rotation. See if he’s more compliant then.”

Twist? Twist wh-“Ackhh!” He found himself struggling to breathe as something pushed his neck from the back, forcing it against the metal ring in front…

The fat man looked at him with a sick grin on his face. “Please don’t talk yet, I haven’t got to the fun part!” He did his best to glare defiantly at him, between the ongoing fight for each and every breathe…

“Uhh, sir, there’s a phone call for you.” Another one of the Jesters interrupted them, and the fat man almost threw a temper tantrum at being interrupted. The sight would have almost been funny and disturbing at the same time, watching an aging man scream like a toddler having his toys taken away from…. had it not been in the current context of him being tortured.

The other Jester gave a blank and umpiressed look that would put Alice to shame, he thought, before interrupting the temper tantrum… “Uhh, it’s her, sir.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, you moron!” He shouted, before punching his subordinate square in the face. Said subordinate merely took the punch and handed the fat man the phone before he left. “Ah, ha hah, Your Eminence, what can I do for you?”

“Chudelkin, you have in your possession an Osean pilot, do you not?”

“Ye-yes, your supremeness!” Even he rolled his eyes at snivelling weasel in front of him, and he was the one being tortured! In a way, this was worse – the second-hand embarrassment was palpable…

Precisely what was said, he wasn’t sure, but it sounded almost like he was being spared for some reason – at least, that was what he figured from the look of anger and disappointment in Chudelkin’s voice, anyway. But why would they want to spare him, anyway?

What made him different from the other downed pilots that had met brutal ends at the hands of the Jesters?

“Well, aren’t you lucky? Her Eminence wants you taken to her, alive…” Having that situation confirmed to him hadn’t helped matters at all, and if he was honest, it might have made the welling anxiety increase faster. Chudelkin looked over to another subordinate and bellowed his orders before leaving. “Throw him in with the Orthinanos bitch. They’re both going the same place anyway…”

/-/

T + 53 hours…

After some more beatings for good measure, the two Jesters had gotten bored and thrown him into what looked like it had once been a barn of some kind. It was dilapidated, and the wooden beams above them looked like they could give way at any moment, but it was at least safer than being tortured, he supposed.

On the other side of the barn, there was a single young woman glaring at him, her eyes full of hatred. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you!” He tried to keep himself upbeat and calm, despite everything going on around him.

“Says the Osean pig bombing us.” The woman responded; her tone full of venom. He couldn’t blame her, he supposed – he still winced at Jet and Alice exchanging jokes and jibes about his family history, and that was a lot less recent…

“Yeah, that’s fair.” He admitted. “We aren’t doing it to kill you though, we’re-” He stopped to think about it a little bit more… why were they here?

He’d thought it was to try and remove the dictators of the island, and prevent them from doing any more damage, but the more he thought about it, the more he doubted that. They had essentially bombed the island back to the Stone Age, regardless of what outcome the intervention had, and left many, if not most of the island’s inhabitants dead or displaced…

“And the penny drops.” She said smugly. “Perhaps you aren’t as brainwashed as they think you are. Still, no comment about only following orders?”

“Who are you?” He asked, now somewhat confused by this woman. She wasn’t one of the Jesters, he was sure of that – she wasn’t amoral enough and did seem to genuinely care for the island… even if he was on the opposite side to her.

“Group Captain Medina Orthinanos.” She told him. “And you must be Osean, given the lack of respect. Do you not salute a superior officer…”

“Not when they’re on the opposing side, no.” He told her bluntly.  “I’m Eugeo.”

“Hm.” She huffed. “I suppose you do not know why you are here either, then.”

“Not a clue. All I could work out was that someone is calling the shots above Chudelkin, and that she was after me for some reason.”

“I knew the former myself. The man is not subtle about it at all, but… why would this mystery woman want us both? Other than perhaps as leverage, I suppose…” Medina thought aloud, and he could agree with that assessment. Didn’t make their situation any less awful, but at least it clarified some of it…

Maybe.

“So, why are you here then?” He asked the most pressing question on his mind.

“I have never agreed with Chudelkin since him and his miserable lot arrived.” She explained, and her venom seemed far more aimed towards them for once. “They bought war to this island, for their own gains. A bunch of fat, repulsive monsters who care only for lining their own pockets, and would happily damn us all to hell if it means more money…”

“At least we can agree on that one.” He told her. “Whatever they want us for, it can’t be good, can it?”

“I would imagine not, no.” Medina agreed. “So I suppose you have a plan to escape, then…”

“Not yet, but we need to get out of here somehow.”

/-/

T + 68 hours…

As night came around for the third time, the mood at the farmstead could be described as hostile. A less diplomatic person might have called it downright toxic, and a place where, if they didn’t escape soon, someone was going to kill someone else.

After their debate earlier about what they needed to do, he expected it would be him strangling Alice for her damn high and mighty attitude!

They were fighter pilots – soldiers, not knights of the air, and seeing the battle for what it truly was, a brutal and lightning quick war, hadn’t been something Alice would do, spending her time trying to berate him for wanting to go and find Eugeo in the valleys below the farm. She had pointed out that they were not well armed, not well trained, that she was currently blind in one eye, that he could only walk short distances due to serious bruising on his left leg, that they had no idea where he was… and more importantly, that it was, in her words… “a suicide mission.”

Which meant that, despite the frigid air outside, he was sat on the grass, staring down the valley to the bright lights in the distance. Not the lights of the city, but rather the light of the city, still lit up by raging fires from bombing raids, both day and night…

Next to him was also a scarecrow that he may have tried to punch a couple of times… it hadn’t helped, and it was still standing, almost as if it were taunting him.

And speaking of taunting him…

“So, is the fresh air helping you?” Alice asked, her tone somewhere between sarcastic and serious, as it always was. “I know this is not an easy time for either of us, but we both need to keep ourselves together if we intend to survive out here.”

“I forgot you just lost your best friend too… oh wait.” He replied in kind. “He’s still out there, and you seem to think lecturing me is going to get him back from those bastards… well, it ain’t, and nor’s taking the moral high ground in there. We aren’t some knights of the air, Alice, we’re soldiers… as shit as that is.”

Alice, for the first time since he’d known her, fell quiet, her voice barely a whisper. “You think I don’t know that? That my entire belief system hasn’t been systematically destroyed piece by piece out here, and now I start to realise that not only is my entire ethos predicated on lies and propaganda, but that now my body is breaking too, and I may be about to lose the most important person in my life? Not only that, but that I am almost completely powerless to prevent that? I am sorry for Sierra’s death, I truly am, but you are not the only one struggling out here, Jet!”

He rolled his eyes and began to walk off. He really wasn’t in the right mood to be given one of Alice’s lectures right now… “So that’s your solution, is it?” She shouted after him. “Walk away and pretend you are in the right? I was right about something at least, Eydis doesn’t deserve you!” He stopped and turned back towards her, glaring as he did so – something of a taunt, given her current situation.

“Then we’re in the same boat, aren’t we?”

Her eye went wide, and he noticed her take in a deep breath, as if she was trying to calm herself down, and he chose not to let up. “Because I’ll tell you something Alice, you don’t like me because you see some of yourself in me, the worst par-” He carried on, before staggering backwards with a ringing in his ears, almost as if…

She’d slapped him.

Without a single word, he returned the favour, shoving her back as far as he could. In her current state, she didn’t fight back, but rather fell over into the mud, and instead of standing back up to beat the crap out of him… she just sat there.

Her legs were drawn back to her chest, with her arms wrapped around them, and she was now softly crying. He’d pushed her hard, but it surely wasn’t that hard… was it?

“I just want to leave here and never come back.” She mumbled, wiping her eye with her sleeve. “To have things go back to the way they were.”

Seeing Alice like that, someone he… okay, he had no idea what he considered her most of the time, but at very least, she was his equal, broken down like that; not by the enemy, but rather by his arseholery… well, it didn’t take long for most of his senses to return, and to give the cruel and nasty part of his mind the beating of its life, forcing it to hide away again.

Never mind that, he could only imagine Sierra, the person he was upset about, giving him the beating of his life for acting like that – as much as he was a complete joker sometimes, he was arguably the one person that kept his worst instincts in check, and right now, it showed.

Alice hadn’t deserved anything he’d said there.

Despite everything he’d just said and done, he couldn’t just leave her here like this though, and so, he sat down in the mud next to her, doing his best to ignore the squelching beneath him. “Alice… I shouldn’t have said that stuff, and you’re right, I need to get that damned stick out of my arse…”

“We were both out of line though, weren’t we? I slapped you first, and you merely retaliated…”

“Yeah, well I shouldn’t have been provoking you. That’s on me, not you.” He answered bitterly, knowing that was true. It was like poking a bear with a stick, and then getting mauled by it – it wasn’t the bear’s fault, so much as it was the stupid prat who thought it was a good idea to jab it with a stick.

Without thinking, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, the one he’d retrieved from Sierra’s body almost three days ago and handed it to Alice. “Here, he’d make some dumb quip about his last action being to help a beautiful lady out, but I really don’t have it in me to do that.” It bought a little bit of a smile to his face to imagine Sierra doing that, as short lived as it was.

“Small mercies I suppose.” She said, with the faintest trace of a sad smile as she did. “I should have never resorted to violence, much less over something as petty as that.”

“Doesn’t change it shouldn’t have been said in the first place.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. He was grieving, sure, but that didn’t give him the right to go and be an utter arsehole to everyone around him, and even in that state, he knew Alice was going through as much as he was… and yet, that part of him didn’t care.

She wasn’t him, and in that state, that made her okay to insult and jibe at, seemingly not expecting repercussions…

“Neither of us are really in our right minds now, are we?”

“Are we ever?” He laughed mirthlessly. “I point myself at airbases at 100ft ASL, and you get into spitting distance of other fighters…”

She snorted and shook her head. “I suppose it could be argued that we are both a special breed, yes.” She agreed and closed her eye. “Was this always going to happen, or did we screw this up somewhere?”

He thought about it for a moment and then came to a realisation… he didn’t actually know what Alice was referring to; Adamas, themselves, their situation…

“What does happen now though? It is not like we can simply ignore this, can we?” She asked, and he detected a small bit of hope that they could both pretend that none of this had ever happened, and things could be the same as they were before…

“I’d like to think we’re both mature enough to have a proper conversation about all of this.” He said, before he thought about it himself. “But I don’t think now’s that time. We’re both completely exhausted, and if we try right now, we’re either going to end up talking past each other…”

“Or we say things we deeply regret afterwards.” Alice finished, agreeing with him for once. “Yes, I think that may be the most sensible thing either of us has said all day…”

“Alice, what I said earlier…”

Much to his surprise, she had no retort for him. “I forgive you.” She told him, and he blinked in surprise. “I do not doubt I would be just as vitriolic if I were in your situation.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t make what I said right.” He told her, before he sighed loudly. “It’s just… I’m supposed to be in charge, I’m supposed to keep everyone safe and be a good leader, and… what do I do? I go and get not just my best friend killed, but because of my stupidity, a city is on fire, and Eugeo is out there somewhere…” He explained, running a muddy hand through his hair, before he realised that. “And even if we do get back, I’ve got to break that news to Kureha that her best friend, someone she’s known since they were kids, is never coming back. How… how do you do that?”

Alice looked away, as if she was the one now ashamed of herself. “I suppose I never thought of it that way.” She answered quietly. “For as much as it is worth, I don’t blame you for our current situation. Should you not have destroyed that missile, it could have been catastrophic…”

“Maybe.” He answered, before something caught his attention – a noise being carried around the hills, almost like someone playing music in the distance. “I’m not going mad, right?”

“No, I hear it too. What is it?” Alice confirmed.

He started tapping along to the distorted beat, trying to work out what was being played in the few seconds before the lyrics kicked in. A nasally voice, but one he recognised quickly… “London Calling, by The Clash.”

“And that means?”

Before he could answer, Sam had rushed out of the barn to them and tapped on their shoulders. “Uhh, I think your friends are nearby! The radio’s suddenly become a radio station!”

“Oh, you clever girls!” Probably the first genuine smile he’d had in the past few days came across his face… “I know what it means! They’re trying to send us a message!”

“How?”

“Long story, but Kureha always used to use London Calling as her ringtone for me. Apparently, all of England is London in her mind…” He rolled his eyes. Still, it wasn’t as bad as Sierra suggesting he was Scottish, purely because he was ginger.

“So… what message are they trying to tell us?”

The smile now faded from his face, replaced by a blank look. “No idea. I think we’ll kind of need to listen a bit longer to see…”

/-/

T + 70 hours

A “little bit longer” quickly turned into nearly two hours, as the girls played what felt like the greatest hits albums of the 1970s and early 1980s, but by the end, he had a pretty good idea of what they were trying to tell him – that they would bring in some kind of support on Saturday night, and to be ready to leave by then, all whilst explaining that they were being monitored by the Jesters out here.

Enough to develop some kind of situational awareness, but enough to really do anything about it though, he thought to himself.

“Certainly an… interesting kind of code, I will grant you that much. I imagine the Jesters will assume it was nothing more than a way of infuriating them, rather than a coded message.” Alice admitted. “Whose idea even was that?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember, and I was there when we came up with it.” He admitted as well. “Originally, it was supposed to be a fudge using the stupid music player whenever our radios broke. Then Seven discovered you could link it into a jamming pod, and well… you were there for the rest.”

/-/

T + 96 hours

Twenty-six hours was a remarkably long time to wait for rescue, especially when you had no idea where the rescue would be coming from, much less where you needed to wait. She was thankful they knew where they were, as she wasn’t sure she could manage the hike back down the pass after the past few days…

“I see aircraft, and unless the Jesters got an old Skyraider out, I’m pretty sure that’s us.”

“How they plan to evacuate us in that, I do not know…” Alice muttered to herself, before spotting something else climbing above the top of the pass, a biplane climbing quietly over the hills… “Is that a…”

“It’s an An-2?” Sam said, somewhat confused at the antiquated, and not to mention, Yuktobanian, aircraft approaching the fields beside them…

“I think we should probably move back a bit… quite a bit actually!” Jet told them, and for once, Alice agreed wholeheartedly with that assessment. They had survived long enough to be rescued, and being cut to ribbons by a landing Antonov biplane would just be adding insult to injury…

Having avoided the probable landing trajectory of the biplane, the group prepared for their exfil. As long as nothing went wrong in the next few moments, they would be home free…

A violent crack came from the hillside below them, and the twilight sky lit up…

“Get down!” Sam called, throwing her straight to the ground as tracer fire tore above their heads and straight through the An-2, the smaller plane bursting into flames before its wings folded atop one another and the craft plunged straight into the fields next to them…

“Where the hell did they sneak up from!” Jet shouted out angrily.

“Wherever they did, they are here now!” She shouted back.

“I’ll try and take out the ZSU’s radar, stay put!” Deciding that putting her head above the very little cover they did have was a bad idea given the 23mm fire now howling through the skies above them, she couldn’t do much to stop their newfound ally from trying to find a sniping position.

Thankfully, the ZSU had found a new target instead of them, that being the Skyraider above them, and unfortunately for the ZSU’s crew… they could shoot back and shoot they did!

A barrage of rockets crackled through the air, interspersed with 20mm fire from the attacker’s four M3 cannons, with the fire from the 23mm AA gun ceasing as the rockets and gunfire hit home, leaving just a crater and a smouldering wreck of a hull where it had once been…

“I believe that might have been my fault.” She admitted, as they all popped their heads above cover, the tracer fire having fallen silent…

“How?”

“I may have thought we were home free, as long as nothing went wrong…” She looked away like a scolded child, though no rebuttal came from them. “Still, what do we do now?”

“We need to get in touch with someone. The radio’s still up in the barn, and I don’t think we can afford to be picky about letting them know we’re here anymore…”

/-/

T + 98 hours…

After some percussive maintenance on the radio to remove some hay that had become lodged in the receiver, Jet had managed to get it to work properly, and contact the circling A-1…

“Okay, Philia’s not far behind me in a Bronco, but the plan has kind of failed. Did any of the guys onboard the An-2 survive?” Liz explained as she circled.

“Doubt it, it slammed down hard. We only saw a fireball.” They hadn't really had chance to go and check for survivors either, what with being pinned down by an anti-aircraft gun!

 “Liz, I may have an idea!” He could hear Yuuki’s voice, but he had absolutely no idea where she was. “The OV-10 can carry passengers, right?”

“Well, yeah… but… how many of you are there?” Philia answered, albeit a little hesitantly.

“Two.” He heard Sam say before he could process what she’d just said. “I’ll stay behind if I have to. Find the rest of my unit. Besides, someone has to cover you guys as you take off…”

“It’s doable, but you better not expecting a comfortable ride.” Philia half-joked. “I feel like I’m flying my dad’s station wagon here…”

“Anything’s better than nothing right now.” He admitted. “What’s your ETA?”

“30 minutes, but I’ve got to drop off the restless cargo back there.” Restless cargo? What exactly was that Bronco carrying – a bear?

“Forgive me for sounding mad, but what cargo gets restless?” Alice asked the same question as he had thought of…

“Five members of the Osean special forces.” She answered without missing a beat. “Five angry members of the special forces too.”

“What exactly were they planning?” Alice muttered to herself, and he couldn’t help but agree with her on this one. This had all the hallmarks of one of his plans, and in this case, that wasn’t a compliment…

“Beats me. I thought the An-2 was the rescue aircraft, but I can’t imagine you’d use an An-2 instead of a chopper.” Sam shrugged, as she picked up her rifle. “Are these guys your “special” forces, or are they special forces, anyway?”

“Yes.” He answered unhelpfully.

/-/

T + 99 hours…

For the second time that evening, an aircraft made its approach to the fields of the farmstead. Unlike the ill-fated Antonov however, the path was swept of potential threats very thoroughly, as the A-1, and much to his confusion, a Sea Harrier of all things, tore up the ground below them, destroying anything that looked as if it might so much as cast a shadow on them, let alone shoot them…

“Well, looks like this is goodbye.” Sam told them, before giving them a salute. “I’d say it’s been fun, but uhh… it really hasn’t.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the century, he thought. Still, he couldn’t help but feel some guilt welling up for leaving her behind.

She’d saved their lives, and yet here they were, leaving her to continue to fight for her life in enemy territory – it didn’t feel fair at all!

“We both owe you our lives.” Alice told her. “Please try not to die.”

She laughed a little. “I should be telling you two that, if you will insist on throwing yourselves into battle in flying contraptions… but yeah. I’ll try.”

About a minute away, the OV-10 touched down in the field, with the cargo door at the back popping open as it slowed down, in order for the “restless cargo” to get themselves out as fast as possible.

And exit as fast as possible, did they! Even he admit, it took balls of steel to jump out of an aircraft that had come to a complete stop yet, and that was coming from the man who’d once jumped out of a moving train…

Calling it a jump might have been a bit charitable – it had been more falling with style, he supposed as he ran over to the waiting Bronco… before he started to run a lot faster as gunfire  began to bracket them!

Dammit, they had a sniper too, and to make matters worse, Alice was falling behind as well!

“Sorry about this!” He told her, before wrapping his arm around her and bolting it as fast as his wounded legs would carry them both, only barely making it to the Bronco, before the sniper had dialled in on them…

Throwing themselves both into the back of the waiting Bronco, he heard a dull ping of a round that had pierced the door they were behind… “Way too close…” He grumbled, as he pulled the door shut behind them, and the OV-10 began to roll across the fields on its take off run.

The seconds it took to lift off into the night sky felt more like years, but eventually, they began to climb above the fields… though they had no way of telling that, the OV-10 lacking any kind of windows for them to see out of.

“Okay, whew! And breathe…” Philia started to laugh to herself a little bit, and he found himself concentrating on getting his breath back after the mad sprint… “You two okay back there?”

“Been…” He panted hard. “Better…”

“Yeah, you both look worse for wear.” She stated bluntly. “Philia to Liz and Yuuki, I’ve got them. We’re climbing out now. ETA back at Bana is in about three hours.”

He looked back over to Alice, who it seemed had finally had the full brunt of the past few days hit her at full force, quietly weeping against the handkerchief he’d given her earlier in the week. Deciding to be better than he had been – though it wasn’t even a decision now, more of an instinct – he sat next her, and tried his best to comfort her.

They had escaped the damned island, but Eugeo hadn’t.

They had no idea where he was, and they had no idea if he was still alive for that matter. For all they knew, he’d ended up in the same way as Sierra had, and they were none the wiser. Hell, it could’ve been worse, and he’d ended up with the Jesters… and they’d just left him there.

“I should have listened to you…” She mumbled against the tears. “You wanted to go rescue him, and… now…”

“It’s probably best you didn’t.” Philia told them from the cockpit. “You’d have been torn to shreds.”

“Why?”

Philia explained from the front. “The Jesters got him, and we think they’re moving him somewhere. Kirito and co are chasing after him now, which is why you’ve got yours truly.”

Despite everything they’d gone through, all the anger, all the sadness, all the horror… and even attacking one another, the sense of relief was so palpable between them that they found themselves hugging again, this time with tears of joy…

They had survived for almost 100 hours in a warzone, against all odds and with no resources…

Chapter Text

Chapter 23 – The Great Escape

T + 78 hours...

In their cell – though calling it that was probably a bit too charitable, given its state as a barn with a steel door – Eugeo and Medina had begun to strategise a way out of the prison camp, and one they could put into play before they were ferreted out of Adamas to wherever the Administration were hiding out…

The first problem they had now was something far greater – the constant torture they and the other prisoners were undergoing. If it wasn't starvation, it was beatings, and if it wasn't beatings, it was watching their follow prisoners be used for sick and twisted forms of entertainment, just to get their kicks…

The worst ones were when they picked the children out – both he and Medina had taken beatings and worse in trying to defend them, but there wasn't much they could do like this. They could stand up when they had the chance, but that didn't apply when they were already off being tortured for a previous act of defiance.

For once, he was glad Alice wasn't here – not because he didn't want her to see this, but because she was the type to speak wherever she saw injustice… and here, there was nothing but injustice. He didn't doubt she would be the most vocal of prisoners, and as such, their captors would make it a sick game to see how long it would take to break her.

He couldn't imagine how cruel they would be there, and if that had been the case, it would've been a race between them to see who would be the first to get themselves killed… if they were lucky.

He'd seen the cold, dead thousand-yard stares of people who had been thrown back in after the Jesters had finished with them, and he wasn't so sure that death was the worst outcome here anymore.

"They're moving things about." Medina, after being thrown back in, told him. "I suspect they are starting to evacuate the island. They know all is lost for them and so, they will leave the people here to suffer." She spat.

"Still, how are we going to get out of here?"

"I overheard an officer saying that prisoners are to be moved to the remaining airbase at X-4. We may need to wait until we are there though."

"I'm surprised there's still any aircraft left…" He admitted. Every single mission, bar their last, had resulted in at least one kill for the coalition forces, and that was when the Adamasians actually tried to challenge the steamroller that was that force. From what he could hear outside, that had almost entirely ceased to be the case, and if he were on the other end, he would have genuinely wondered if they had completely destroyed the Adamasian Air Force, or at very least, rendered it combat ineffective…

"There were a few hidden away on the islands surrounding us. Chudelkin thought they could be used for suicide attacks…"

"Suicide attacks?!" He exclaimed in shock. The Adamasians were desperate, sure, but were they that desperate? Oh right, yeah, desperation had been why he was now imprisoned here, so yes, they probably were…

"Yes. Stripped down MIG-23s with their armaments removed. I told him he was insane to even consider it, and he agreed…" That… didn't sound like the angry buffoon of a man they had encountered, he thought to himself. "Besides, he said, we have the chance to cripple their forces with a rain of fire…"

The Scuds. They weren't aimed at cities at all, they were aimed at Adamas itself… had they launched, they would have been a scorched earth policy…

"At least we stopped them." Eugeo admitted aloud. "I dread to think what someone like Chudelkin would have done with more missiles."

"He would have declared himself ruler, and threatened all who opposed his queen…" Medina snarled. "A queen we have never even met and who hides in the shadows… is not fit to rule, if you ask me."

"Agreed." He answered her. "Anything else though?"

"If we can take two of the MIGs, there is a chance we could escape. If not…" Medina trailed off, and he already knew what would happen. Their current treatment would look like a wine and dine service in comparison, and being dead would almost certainly be preferable to that.

"Then we have to escape."

/-/

T + 95 hours…

X-4 was a small airbase to the extreme east of the island, Eugeo had worked out as they were smuggled in, away from the prying eyes of aerial reconnaissance assets and snooping radio equipment. Strangely enough, the trucks they had been smuggled in must have been struggling with radio interference, as the radios ended up tuned to a music station, rather than the communications frequency they should have been tuned to, and he wondered briefly if that was Liz's doing…

"Blasted things!" One of the soldiers grumbled, smacking the radio to retune it. "Stay on the right frequency!"

"It is, I don't get it…"

He raised a little smirk, knowing what was happening. Was it petty? Yes. Was it also the first amusing thing he'd seen in about five days? Also yes.

"I take it your friends have something to do with this?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who can say?" He told the guards, acting dumb. This had Liz's fingerprint all over it, but there was no way he was going to confess to knowing that…

Even Medina, the grumpiest person he'd ever met, raised a smirk at the non-answer. "It could be a problem with the user rather than the machine…" She commented. "After all, rubbish begets rubbish, does it not?"

"Oh you two can laugh all you like… you won't be laughing when the head bitch gets hold of you."

"What a way to address your superiors…" Medina rolled her eyes. "Come to think of it, all things are superior to you bottom feeders, so I suppose it fits…"

"Say it again…" Even with a gun held to her head, Medina remained stoic. "I dare ya…"

"It is not my fault if your comprehension skills are so poor as to miss it the first time." She told the soldier, before he smacked the side of her head with the gun, and she fell to the floor of the truck. "You hit like my grandmother…"

Before any more violence could happen to them, another soldier intervened – though clearly more out of concern for their own safety, rather than them. "Remember what he said. If they die, we die…"

"He said nothing about beating them to a pulp though…"

"Do you really want to test that theory?" The attacking one shuddered, probably picturing being subject to the same abuses he had been administering to others.

"You make a good point." He grumbled and ceased his attack, returning his attention to the "broken" radio, and ignoring them again. "Cheap Belkan shit."

/-/

T + 99 hours. 51 minutes...

Eventually, they found themselves left exposed to the elements as the night wound on, and the "guests", as the guards euphemistically called them, found themselves put to work as either human shields or manual labour.

They must have learned their lesson from earlier in the day, Eugeo supposed; as a bombing raid had destroyed a number of the airliners on the ground and been basically unhindered by any kind of triple-A. A fact that Eugeo assumed meant one of two things: that they didn't have any, or that the crews were all too busy being forced to work as labourers and load up the Jesters' ill-gotten gains.

Still, the lack of supervision - other than one older man who seemed like a stiff breeze would knock him over anyway - meant that they had a chance to put their plan into action:

Across the apron, he could see a pair of MIG-23s, both unarmed, but with their engines started - probably there to divert attention from any potential follow up raids - and so, they struck now.

The guard was quickly overpowered, and the pair of prisoners ran across the tarmac towards the MIG, dodging the hopelessly inaccurate gunfire as they did. So inaccurate was the gunfire that they had hit more of their own forces than they had even come close to hitting them, but that was no relief - they still had to get into the MIGs and get them ready to launch, a task that he had no doubt was going to be much harder… and dropping into the cockpit, he finally understood how difficult that was going to be!

He had only been told by Medina what switches he needed to press or flip, not shown pictures of the cockpit, and so he was sure he made plenty of mistakes as bullets clattered around them. Some did actually hit the Floggers, but most scored direct hits on the unlucky ground crews around them.

About 20 seconds had passed, and he had managed to get the MIG moving. Outside, he could tell the Jesters were now seriously panicked, as the two "rogue" MIGs taxied to the runway, the R-27 engine behind him blasting anything behind them out of their ways; they had started to try and set up barricades…

Flimsy barricades made of wood that the MIG-23 simply rolled over.

Quickly, they'd decided against using the runway - it was too likely they'd have time to blockade it as they taxied, and so, lining up on the taxiway, Eugeo did a quick check of the aircraft's configuration, and following Medina's lead, pushed the throttle into afterburner.

About halfway down the taxiway, Eugeo spotted a fire truck that was now blocking their path - it was too late to dodge it, and so he heaved back on the control column to pull the interceptor into the air. Scraping metal behind him told him he was ripping up the already vulnerable fin underneath, but in that moment he didn't care; getting airborne was the priority!

He just about managed it, the landing gear clattering against it as they knocked the fire truck over, and he retracted the gear, figuring out that he was going to need to get as much speed behind him as possible!

Now airborne, and with no immediate threats chasing them, he took a look around to try and find Medina… with her being nowhere in sight. All he could see was a dust cloud off the end of the run… oh.

As much as his sense of honour demanded he turn around to help, his sense of self preservation overruled that - he was unarmed after all, so it wasn't like there was much he could do to help.

That would be what he told himself, anyway.

Settling on his current course, he closed the afterburner for the moment, and began to fiddle with the radios - if he could get an SOS out to anyone, maybe he stood a chance of escaping in one piece…

/-/

T + 99 hours, 58 minutes…

Whilst Lisbeth, Yuuki and Philia did their best to get the special forces into Adamas, and get Jet and Alice out of there, Kirito, Argo, Asuna and Sinon had their own mission:

A decapitation of the Jesters, to make sure the problem never reared their ugly heads again.

Through some crafty signal intelligence, they had become aware of Operation Exodus, the Jesters' plan to evacuate themselves, anyone loyal to them and anything of value that they had pillaged and plundered from the island, and they had begun to formulate a strategy to ensure its failure…

Klein, leading Fuurinkazen, with Tiese and Ronye flying escort, would destroy whatever aircraft they could on the ground earlier in the day, forcing them into a more manageable number of aircraft, and then, when the Jesters attempted to break out in the cover of darkness, his group would be waiting like sharks circling in the water…

The mostly unescorted transports would be easy pickings for almost anything they had, let alone the advanced fighters that they now flew, and he believed the Jesters knew that too. The aircraft that had gathered on the ground had seemingly been "acquired" from the state airline, mostly older Boeing 707s, though with a small number of elderly DC-6s and newer Tupolev Tu-154B trijets, a collection that would make their lives a little harder than they had hoped for.

All of them were civilian types, and no doubt they'd be flashing civilian identities as they fled the island.

It had taken a lot of convincing for Bercouli to even let them take the risk of shooting down an airliner, but that had been alleviated when the risk had been reduced to practically nil, given that no airline was mad enough to fly over the top of an active shooting war, whilst even the militaries involved were a bit hesitant to overfly the area…

Still though, he couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable with the prospect that they weren't 100% sure on what they were shooting at, even if the AEW craft could verify enough details to confirm they were the Jesters trying to make a quick getaway…

"Black Blade One to Magic, we're all in position." Argo told the circling Hawkeye.

They would be positioned in the medium distance – the AIM-54s onboard providing a stand-off capability if it came to it, but they would be primarily relying on the AIM-7s and AIM-9s they carried tonight.

Asuna would close the distance, and relying on her Sidewinders and Sparrows, would be their hard hitter out here. Sinon, on the other hand, would stay well back, inside the coverage of allied AAA fire, lobbing AIM-47s out to any targets they painted for her.

"Magic to Black Blades, we have the first few flights on radar. Request you move to investigate. First target is heading 060, altitude 5000 and climbing. Climbing fast too?"

"Uhh, Magic, I see them too. Pretty sure that's not an airliner, it's doing 450 knots!" Sinon pointed out.

"Fighters then."

"Possibly." Magic responded. "Black Blades, be warned that fighters are still active in the area."

"Yeah, we know Magic! One of 'em just nearly took our heads off climbing over us!" Philia exclaimed from the OV-10 on the other side of the island..

"Hostile?"

"Maybe, but it could've killed us there and then… and they just waggled their wings at us?"

"Huh?"

"Something feels wrong about this, like the situation has changed…" Sinon thought aloud.

"I'm with Sinonon on this, I don't like it." Asuna agreed.

"Magic, we're investigating the bogey. Will confirm if it's hostile or not." He told them, as Argo grumbled from the backseat.

"Kii-bou, more bogeys. Four of them this time!"

"Confirming. They are climbing very quickly, so I would assume they are in pursuit of something…" Sinon added.

"Us?"

"Nah, wrong headin' entirely. Looks like they're after the first bogey…" Argo explained. "Magic, ya seein' this?"

"We are indeed, Black Blade One. Second group of bogeys are flashing Adamasian frequencies." Magic responded, and whoever or whatever the first group was, the second group was hostile – that much they could confirm…

"Argo…" He asked.

"Already on it!" She told him from the rear seat.

"Sinon…"

"Locked up, just awaiting the order to fire."

"Asuna…"

"Approaching the lead bogey. Can confirm, it's an Adamasian MIG-23, but there's something odd here. It's unarmed?"

"Eh?"

"Magic to Black Blade Two… confirm your last?" The radar controller in the Hawkeye asked.

"Bogey is unarmed and trying to signal me." Asuna confirmed, and she looked inside the cockpit of the MIG as she pulled into formation alongside it… "I don't believe it…" They could tell the astonishment in her voice just from that accidental transmission though.

"Asuna, what is it?" He asked.

"I think it's Eugeo flying that MIG!"

"Ya what?!"

"Understood, Asuna. Magic, mark that MIG as friendly."

"Working on it, Black Blades." The operator called back. "Bandits are twenty miles and closing from Black Blade Two. Permission to fire granted."

"Black Blade One, Fox Three!" In the night, one of the massive AIM-54s carried underneath their belly dropped away, the ignition of the rocket motor lighting up the night sky around it as it soared vertically.

"Black Blade Five, Fox Three."

The missiles covered the distance in less than twenty seconds – the AIM-54 dropping almost vertically onto one of the unsuspecting MIGs and reducing it to nothing more than a flash in the night sky, whilst the second, Sinon's AIM-47, reduced its MIG to a similar flash.

There was almost something deeply unsatisfactory about just how… easy this was. In the early days, it had meant getting within spitting distance of your opponent, and lining up the perfect shot…

Here though, it was just a matter of getting the switches set properly, and waiting for your missile to obliterate the target before it ever knew you were there. It wasn't the inherent unfairness that he was bothered by – it was just that it was boring.

There was no risk in it – which made a lot more sense in reality, as sending pilots into constant life or death dogfights either made exceptional aces… or a lot of dead rookies killed by the exceptional aces, but in a game environment like this, it just felt bland.

"Magic to Black Blades, you've got company! Flight of MIG-23s climbing to meet-" The message fell silent as another flash lit up the eastern side of the island.

"Asuna, defend Eugeo. Sinon, keep watch on those MIGs, Argo-"

"Already on it, Kii-bou. Working on locking them up now."

The new plan was exceptionally simple – and it had to be, because he'd thought about it for all of five seconds – he and Argo would engage any MIG-25s climbing to engage the high-flying Crossbow, whilst Sinon did her best to engage anything that she could, whilst Asuna did her thing, and defended Eugeo against the remains of this wave of fighters, and the probable next wave too.

All of this whilst he asked himself just a single question…

Why did he have to tempt fate by saying this had been boring?

/-/

Asuna wondered what it said about her that she was beginning to find the constant close in dogfights more frustrating than anything else.

Not that she was planning to let this become one of those situations, mind you, she thought to herself as she readied the AIM-7F's under her Eagle's belly. The other MIGs had scattered when they saw their wingmen disintegrate into clouds of metal and flames, but that hadn't sent them into a retreat unfortunately – it had merely forced them to attack her from a different angle and split apart to do so.

She couldn't help but envy Kirito here – he got to sit back and throw missiles at a problem until they ran out of Phoenixes, whilst she had to close the distance and put herself in the firing line in order to do, and not only that, but he got a back seater for that too! She had to watch the radar, ready the weapons systems and focus on getting herself into position to do all of that, all without any help now…

She was however thankful that the F-15 incorporated more sophisticated avionics than her Lightning, because the cockpit layout was infinitely better in the Eagle, she thought.

Still, all that could wait as one of the MIGs reappeared for a head on pass. At thirty miles, she scored a lock on the unfortunate victim, and fired one of the Sparrows straight towards it… "Asuna, Fox One!" She called as the missile streaked through the night sky, true as an arrow.

The explosion in the distance confirmed that it had hit home, and she flew past the dissipating fireball. Parts of the MIG still lingered in the air, the smaller sections almost floating to earth like a paper bag in the wind, rather than sheet metal, but she was able to avoid most of the potential shrapnel…

"One down, who knows how many more to go…" She said with a sigh.

"Asuna, Sinon. Four more MIGs are approaching, but… something feels weird here." That seemed to be the running theme of tonight, she thought. Nothing about this felt right, and everything felt just a bit off…

"Weird how, Sinon?" She asked.

"They aren't coming from the direction of Adamas, but rather Leasath." Sinon explained, much to her confusion.

Leasath wasn't openly hostile to them – though they certainly weren't allies either, the rhetoric coming out of the country was less "we don't like you", more "we will wait until we get a chance, and give you what you deserve in our eyes". Which had been why they had been trying to avoid the aerial borders around the country, to avoid getting into the exact situation they now found themselves in…

"You have to be kidding, right?" Kirito groaned. "We aren't anywhere near their airspace, are we?"

"Little closer than we should be, but still outside the exclusion zone."

"Great… so they're lookin' fer a fight then." Argo groaned.

"Commander, this is Kirito, how copy?"

"Kid, it's two in the mornin', what's the issue?" Bercouli grumbled, clearly a bit annoyed at being disturbed…

"We've got a flight of LAF MIGs approaching us, and they've got their-"

Argo interrupted him as he explained the situation. "Kii-bou, those MIGs have us locked up!"

"Scratch that, sir, those MIGs are locking us up. What do you want us to do?" He hated having to defer to someone when the obvious answer was to lock them up in response, and fight back, but considering that would be equivalent to a declaration of war… he really wasn't sure he wanted to be the one who lit that spark!

"Kid, if they fire on ya, fire back. That's the order now." Bercouli told them, giving him the order he hoped for – they weren't to shoot first, but return fire was perfectly acceptable…

"Have they sent out any kind of warning?" Sinon asked.

"Negative, just silence on the guard frequency."

"Osean aircraft, you have been warned. En guard!" One of the Leasath Air Force fighters called.

"Guess we're fighting our way out then…" Argo sighed. "Things can't ever be easy, can they?"

"We knew what we were signing up for, I suppose."

"Asuna, can you handle the remaining Adamasian fighters?"

"Black Blade Two, I'm on it." She responded. There were still four Adamasian aircraft out here, and she was on her own in this fight. Those MIGs were definitely out for blood, and she now had to defend the unarmed Eugeo as he broke out too…

A silent mark of thanks came out that she wasn't flying her Lightning anymore, else this may as well have been impossible - at least the F-15 carried a useful payload.

Checking her radar, she spotted the first pair of MIGs in hot pursuit of Eugeo, and worked to lock them up with the Sparrows. First things first, she needed to break into them, in order to get a head on shot with the AIM-7s, and she rolled the Eagle away from the unarmed Flogger.

Eugeo was just as good of a pilot as any of them, and she was reasonably sure that he could keep them off balance long enough for her to ensure they were no longer a problem anymore, and so, she tore around the turn, vapour pouring from the wings with her afterburner lit in order to maintain momentum…

Pulling the nose around into position, a shrill beep rang through the cockpit, telling her that the radar had locked up one of the MIGs, and that a Sparrow shot was now possible. A few flicks of switches later, and a dull thud came from the belly of the Eagle; the Sparrow lighting up the sky ahead of her.

"Asuna, Fox One!" She called, and within a few seconds, an orange flash pierced the night sky. "Splash one."

One down, three to go!

That was when her RWR began to ring out through the cockpit, a sign that one of the MIGs was carrying their own radar guided missiles; either R-13Rs or R-23s, neither were a good option in a head on pass.

Working quickly, she was able to gain a lock on the next MIG, and as its glowing afterburner became faintly visible, the lock tone rang out again, and the same routine as before was repeated - the AIM-7 dropped away… and nothing.

It had simply fallen off the aircraft, and would eventually land in the sea below…

Switching modes, she was able to get a lock tone with one of her remaining two Sidewinders, and the all-aspect missile detached from its pylon, and went straight into a sprint to the now too close for comfort MIG-23 that was coming head on at her…

At less than five miles head to head, the MIG exploded into two distinct pieces; the nose ripping away and careening off away from her, whilst the remainder of the MIG briefly carried on, passing her to the left and exploding about a second later.

She couldn't help but hunch in, as the shrapnel flew around her; it wasn't as if it would do much to protect her from a stream of burning hot and razor sharp metal, but it was out of reflex more than anything.

"Asuna, splash two."

She took stock of her current situation - one Sidewinder, one Sparrow, 240 rounds of 20mm ammo, two Admasian MIGs.

As long as those missiles did their job, she would be fine, she thought, as another MIG came for her. This time, the pilot had clearly thought better of the same head on mentality that had gotten their colleagues killed, and was coming at her from her 3 o'clock; having used the earlier skirmish to position themselves to maximise their advantage.

She went to break into the attack, but the RWR began to sound again, and so, she threw the Eagle into a high-G turn to break lock. The R-series missiles were a very real threat, but other than the short range Aphid, none were particularly agile, and so, tight turns into them would usually throw off the lock, and if not, then it was time for chaff.

Thankfully, the fired missile failed to turn into her, and careened off into the distance. Now on course to go head to head with the MIG, she spotted it breaking straight into the vertical and began to give chase.

The MIG-23 was a poor fighter, but it had one trick up its sleeve that most of their aircraft simply couldn't keep up with - which was to throw the Flogger into a vertical climb in full afterburner, and perform a four mile high loop. During the loop, any pursuing aircraft would simply lose the fight between thrust and gravity, and be forced to drop out of the pursuit, allowing the Flogger to break away, and come in for another pass at a more opportune angle.

Unfortunately for the MIG pilot, the F-15 was one of the aircraft that could keep up with it in the vertical. With a thrust to weight ratio of over 1:1, the Eagle had the raw power to keep up in the vertical, and Asuna intended to demonstrate that to the unlucky MIG. With her HUD showing a nose up attitude of nearly 75 degrees - almost vertical - and her afterburners glowing in the night sky, she gained a tone for her remaining AIM-9, and fired. The last of her close range missiles broke away from the wing rail, and within a short second, the expanding rod warhead detonated near the tail of the MIG-23.

Deciding she didn't want to get a falling MIG-23 to the wing (the F-15 was also remarkable in being one of, if not the only aircraft to have lost an entire wing and still landed safely) or face, she pulled the F-15 back to nose level, and then rolled back to wings level.

Just above her, she watched as the MIG fell out of its climb in flames, before a small burst of smoke - the pilot ejecting - popped out of the cockpit, and the aircraft tore in half and plummeted to the ground. "Asuna, splash three." She called out, whilst scanning the radar for the last of the four MIGs.

She'd lost track of them in the midst of the battle, a rookie mistake, and now she had no idea where the last one might be. "Sinonon, can you see the last MIG?"

"Negative, Asuna. Wait, I see him! Heading 270, turning and climbing towards you. Twenty miles out."

"Understood, Sinon." With that much distance between them, she could make use of the last AIM-7 on her aircraft, and she worked to gain a radar lock on the approaching MIG.

The shrill beeping tone of the radar lock rang in her headset, and she armed the missile - her last one of any kind - before giving it a split second of thought; should she retain this in case, or…

No, she wasn't going to try and get a gun kill out here tonight - that was difficult enough in broad daylight, let alone in the dark!

"Asuna, Fox One." The missile dropped away from the belly of the aircraft, and dove for the approaching MIG. Barely a second had passed before a flash of light lit up the ocean below it - score four!

"Asuna, splash four!" She exclaimed, scanning the skies around her and then back down to her radar. "Asuna to all aircraft, I'm Winchester at this time."

"Gotcha, Aa-chan. We've got the Leasathis under control out here, you and Sinonon head back ta base if yer out. We won't be far behind ya."

"Wilco." She told them, and for the first time since they arrived, she was able to breathe a little bit easier, and do the sums on everything that had happened this evening.

She'd managed to down a pair of MIGs in the first flight before the second flight of four had arrived, and then that flight of four itself… that made her an ace in a day!

The title of ace was already a difficult one to achieve, and was one that very few fighter pilots ever managed in their entire career - that required the downing of five aircraft. The title of "ace in a day" was one even more impressive than that, as it required achieving that particular career milestone… in a single day.

And she'd done it without even realising until afterwards.

Before she could think on that topic anymore, her radio crackled into life. "Is this working? Hello, hello?"

"We can hear you, Eugeo." She told him.

"Finally! I've been trying to get the radio working since I left, I think it took a bullet to it or something similar." It felt remarkably reassuring to hear the voice of one of their missing friends alive and well, especially after the stressful messes that had been the past few days. "Umm, guys… it's just me. The others are…" She could tell that Eugeo was barely keeping his emotions in check, and probably had been for multiple days now.

"Alice and Jet are en route back." She explained. "Philia and Liz managed to pick them up on the other side of the island."

She didn't get an answer, but a sigh of relief. "I'm glad they're safe, but we've got a bigger problem than just us. Two of those Scuds got moved, and Chudelkin had a load of stripped out MIGs at X-4."

"Stripped out, Yuji-bou?"

"Yeah, radars and weapons removed. They were supposed to be suicide attackers."

"What?!" Came the call from almost everyone. "'gainst what tho'?"

"I don't know, sorry. I thought it might have been against the invasion force, but…"

Bercouli interrupted them. "Nah, sorry kid. If I had to guess, Chudelkin's gonna try and make a move against Osea for ruining his retirement plan…"

"Medina reckoned they would be aimed towards something valuable to us."

"I've got a nasty feeling I know what that might be, but it's just a feelin' for now. For now tho', y'all deserve a break, so head back to Bana. I'll debrief ya in the mornin'." Bercouli ordered.

"Sir, what about the Leasathis?"

"Command has already hit the roof there, but they engaged us first, so… it's a diplomatic problem for now, not ours."

"Asuna, how copy?"

"Loud and clear, Sinonon, what is it?"

"If those MIGs are to be used as suicide attackers, what's the chance they'll be aimed towards Bana? Not to mention the Scuds too."

"The base?"

"The city." That thought filled her with a dread she hadn't quite felt yet; the thought that they would soon be defending civilians from an enemy that had shown no reservations against reprisal attacks on their own civilians, let alone their enemy's.

Defending against the MIGs would be a tiring business, but she doubted that Chudelkin had too many of them in the first place, and the number of escorts would no doubt be lacking now - those armed MIGs were likely to be the escorts, she reckoned.

The Scuds though? Last time they had tried to destroy them, it had led to one of their own being found dead, and another three captured or behind enemy lines, and they had no doubts that Chudelkin would be willing to fill the sky with lead and SAMs to prevent the destruction of a second and a third missile in the same vein.

Despite the rescue, she had no doubts this wasn't over - not by a long shot yet.

"Oh schisse!" Eugeo called out, interrupting her theorising. "Black Blade Four, I took more damage than I thought escaping. My fuel state is low enough that I won't make it to Bana."

"Understood Four, there's a landing field at Yenton that Philia's using to refuel the Bronco and get everyone onto a waiting transport. If I were you, I'd head for that."

"What's the heading?"

"Two-eighteen."

"Got it, thanks. I'll head for it and see you all back at Bana…" Eugeo told them, and they could only hold their nerves and hope he made it in time. "Oh, and everyone? Thank you for the assistance. I'd have been dead without you, so…"

"Ya really thought we'd leave ya behind?" Argo asked. "Ya wound me Yuji-bou…"

"Hah… no, but I wasn't sure I'd make it out without a miracle."

"Now you've done it Eugeo, her ego will be absolutely huge when we land…" Kirito joked, with a dull thud being audible behind him… "Friendly fire, Argo!"

For once, Asuna felt genuinely proud of herself. In the time since ACES had begun, she hadn't really felt proud of herself like this before, as even their successes usually came with caveats: Operatic Society? Led to an all out war. The Battle of Rechlin? Complete failure. St Callippo? Technically a war crime.

This though? They had managed to orchestrate a rescue that hadn't led to them all being wiped out, and to add to that, she had become an ace in a day!

She had no doubts that would change when the magnitude of their friends' experience came to light, but for now, she was simply content.

Content to watch the sun begin to rise as she cruised back towards Bana City…

Chapter Text

Chapter 24 - Rain of Fire

"I hope everyone had a good night's sleep-" Kirito wondered whether the Commander had found his sense of humour, given that he, Argo, Asuna and Sinon had somewhere around 3 hours sleep after returning from what was being labelled in various places as an unsanctioned assassination mission… and the actions necessary to end the war there and then.

Whichever it was, it had failed in that regards; Chudelkin was very much still alive and they had enough intel to suggest that he was planning a revenge attack on the Oseans - though not enough to say whether that would be the armed forces, or the civilian population.

That second option was the one they had all reckoned on though, and now, this was no longer a war over a foreign soil, but rather one they would have to fight on the defensive for…

"-because we have more intelligence thanks to Eugeo." Honestly, they couldn't help but be extremely glad that Eugeo had escaped when he had, because if not?

Well, the casualties from a sneak attack like that didn't bear thinking about… especially not after what they'd seen over Tulau from the Scuds.

"The remaining forces loyal to the Jesters are planning an attack on the Osean mainland, using both of the remaining ballistic missiles, and suicide attackers. At this point, we still don't know their targets, but Command has reiterated that we are to ensure no damage comes to the mainland, and that means the gloves are well and truly off now."

"The Commander is right - Point Major is readying a flight of B-58s as we speak for a conventional strike on the base. The Hustlers will be tasked with wiping out any potential missile sites, regardless of the location."

"In the event the B-58s fail to hit the target, or that the target remains active after the strike, we have a pair of B-52s at stand off distance armed with SRAMs."

SRAMs, Kirito wondered. The AGM-69 SRAM (Short Range Attack Missile) was nuclear armed, and as far as any of them were aware, Strangereal didn't have nukes yet, so the SRAMs must have been armed with something else instead.

"These SRAMs will be armed with thermobaric warheads, so in theory, they should be able to wipe out any missile sites and their crews." And everyone in the surrounding area, Kirito mused to himself with a sense of foreboding. A thermobaric weapon was a particularly nasty type of weapon, he remembered, one that was designed to incinerate the oxygen in the area around detonation, as well as aerosolising and igniting its own fuel. Death from such a weapon was particularly unpleasant - the blast wave being the most likely cause of death, followed by incineration and inhalation of the burning fuel…

Involuntarily, he found himself shuddering at the thought, though no one noticed, and the briefing continued.

"Still, that will only require a small number of aircraft to provide an escort for the bombers. The remaining crews will stay here, on full alert. Starting from 0900, we'll have an airborne CAP until the bombers return."

As selfish as it was, Kirito found himself hoping for them to be part of the CAP duty, rather than escorting the bombers - he'd seen enough damage done to the Adamasian capital and villages already, and watching one of them potentially get incinerated wasn't high on his list of things to do.

/-/

9am came around, and the first flight took off on patrol; formed by Fanatio and Sortiliena, with Eydis and Itsuki following shortly behind.

Given that the 302 were very short staffed with the loss of Sierra, and incapacitation of Jet and Kureha, it made sense that the former Solitaire flight would be split for the time being; Itsuki joining up with the 301st in the air defence role, whilst Zeliska borrowed Kureha's F-105 to act as a pathfinder for the bombers over the island of Adamas Minor.

The Idol girls and guy followed not long behind her, flying electronic suppression for the strike package, which had left the 303rd to wait their turn in the rec room. A turn that he hoped would never come, but one that probably would - Chudelkin didn't exactly seem like the stable kind, Kirito reminded himself.

Despite the jubilation of their return last night, the mood still felt particularly sombre for them - whilst both Alice and Eugeo had returned alive, it wasn't easy to say it had been in one piece. Eugeo was remarkably intact for someone who had been tortured by one of the most sadistic men in the southern hemisphere, but the same couldn't be said for Alice, who had passed out almost immediately on returning to Bana, and been rushed into the medical unit to aid with her injuries.

He had no doubts that both of them would remember that for a long time, if not the rest of their lives; a bleak reminder of the death game they found themselves in.

"Credit for ya thoughts, Kiri-dude?" Klein asked, snapping him back to reality for the moment.

"Just thinking."

"Yeah, I get ya. Stakes are a lot higher this time, aren't they?"

"There's a lot of people depending on us now, isn't there?" He heard Ronye ask quietly - probably asking herself, rather than anyone else.

"We've been in worse scrapes, eh?" Argo kicked herself forward, trying to cheer everyone up a little as she threw herself into a standing position. "And we've got the easy job too - all we have to do is stop a few MIGs, nothin' we don't do everyday…"

"I suppose so, yes." Asuna admitted.

"Besides, we didn't get to celebrate, did we?"

"Celebrate what?" Klein asked in confusion, and he was in the same boat there - were they celebrating Alice, Eugeo and Jet returning? Because if so, he couldn't help but feel that it was in slightly poor taste given that not everyone returned…

"Aa-chan becomin' an ace in a day, that's what!" Argo beamed.

"Really?" He asked, having not really kept up with the other side of the fight last night.

"Yeah, I think I managed to down five MIGs last night." Asuna admitted, unusually sheepishly. Wait… was she embarrassed?! Asuna, of all people, being embarrassed… by praise?

"Go on, ma'am!" Tiese cheered enthusiastically. "Wait, I've just realised something… who actually does have the highest score here?"

Kirito thought about it for a moment, and realised he genuinely had no idea. They'd never really kept count, and ACES wasn't your normal game, in that he had no idea where the pilot's statistics actually were in the menu - if they were even there in the first place.

"Prob'ly a toss up between Kii-bou and Aa-chan, I betcha."

"Perhaps." Sinon thought aloud from her chair. "I can safely say that my total is six, so far."

"Wait, yer an ace too Sinon-on?!"

"Argo, we've been flying combat missions for eight months now, and in almost every major mission, we come across hostile aircraft. It'd be a surprise if she wasn't an ace yet." He pointed out, and Argo gave a look of "you make a good point." to him.

"I think I'm probably the lowest scoring person here though - uhh, none." Philia admitted, deflating into her shoulders.

"Maybe you aren't an ace Philia, but it doesn't mean you aren't a valuable part of the squadron." Ronye added.

"Isn't there such a thing as a photo ace though?" Klein asked.

"I mean, there may be… but I've never heard the term before."

"Can I not get the sympathy vote please…" Philia groaned, to Argo's laughter.

"Nah, we're just pullin' ya leg, Phi-chan." Argo sat next to her. " 'Sides, we can't all be like them pair, can we?"

"Hey! Why are we getting singled out here?"

" ' Cause yer both insane, ya know that? Aa-chan for fightin' off two flights of MIGs, almost on her own, and you, Kii-bou… for being you." Argo grinned.

"Charming." He rolled his eyes. "Still, what have I ever done that was insane?"

"Kii-bou, our job was to point ourselves at a missile battery and shoot back at it. Find me one part o'' that that ain't insane to an observer…"

She had a fair point there, he had to admit. Becoming bait for missiles, and then pointing themselves at the missile was a bit mad when it was said out loud, but so were many things - it didn't make the person doing them insane… most of the time.

The bantering in the rec room was interrupted as the siren rang out - they were needed in the air… now!

/-/

The first ten minutes of the patrol was relatively calm, with very little happening other than the occasional radio traffic from other aircraft in the interceptor group to the east of the bay. Her group was unusually quiet in that regard, she thought - Eydis, ever the ray of light amongst the group, seemed laser focused on the mission at hand, with barely a word spoken outside of routine callouts.

Even LLENN and Pitohui seemed quieter than usual, though there was still the usual bantering at seemingly random intervals.

That all changed with a single call from the ground based controllers though.

"Knights, we have ten MIGs approaching at 120 miles on heading 310, angels six. Move to intercept positions, and hold fire."

Something about this whole situation didn't feel right to Fanatio, but she couldn't say exactly what it was - merely that something felt wrong. A nebulous kind of wrong that you only felt when you could sense you didn't have the full picture, but were lacking the clues to understand what the missing part of the picture really was…

And she absolutely hated that feeling.

"Understood, Watchman. Knights are moving into position."

"Ma'am, I have them on my radar." Sortiliena told her, "But something feels off here. If they were coming for suicide attacks on the city, why would you form up into very obvious flights?"

"Hate to agree with the princess, but she's right. If they were here to rain hell down there, they'd be in ones and twos, scattered to the wind… not in formation." It was rare to hear Pitohui not being contrarian, but the more it was stated, the more it made sense to her.

"Watchman, are there any other targets on radar?"

"Uhh, hold." The line fell quiet briefly, before they returned. "Negative, Knight Lead. Just the MIGs, and two civilian aircraft that are still en route to land at Bana."

"Understood." She answered apprehensively. There had to be a detail they were missing, something that made sense of the entire mess… "Watchman, confirm details on those civilian aircraft."

"Target at your three o'clock is an Air Ixiom DC-10, callsign Ixiom 890. Target to your twelve is… hang on, that's strange?"

"Watchman?"

"Air Ixiom has just dropped off radar."

"Fanatio, it's Bercouli, I've just been given word that any civilian aircraft out there is not civilian! Airspace is clear of civilian traffic! They're Adamasian aircraft flying on stolen frequencies. Chudelkin must have gotten hold of them somehow."

"Understood sir, we're tracking them now. What about the MIGs though?"

"I'm scrambling additional aircraft now, they'll be with you in five minutes."

"Understood sir."

The MIGs were one problem, but the airliners were something else entirely - the air defence network would struggle to pick them out as hostile, and so it would be down to the interceptors already up here to find and down them… if they really were hostile, that was.

"Ma'am, this is Watchman. More radar targets at low altitude and low speed."

"Huh?"

"Either drones or light aircraft, we think."

"Fuck!" Pitohui shouted into her mic.

"We're gonna have problems against those, aren't we?"

"Fanatio, I'm scrambling the others to handle those. Keep your eyes on the prize, will you?"

She wanted to snap back at him and tell him what else he thought she would be doing at that moment, but she settled for a mild groan instead.

Drawing up a picture in her head, they had a group of about ten MIG-23s crossing into the Bay Control Area, at around 100 miles from land - they would be priority targets, knowing what they knew about them. The odds were that those MIGs were packed to the brim with explosives, and intended to attack civilian targets…

The next targets would be the light aircraft. She assumed they were somewhat further into the BCA, else they would be difficult to track effectively, but they were Twilight's job to handle, not theirs. The girls of Twilight may have been young, but in this case, age really didn't matter - they were as skilled as any pilots she'd met during the death game.

Then there were the errant airliners. They would certainly pose an issue, especially if the air defences failed to do their job and shoot them down. If they wanted confirmation, it would almost certainly become a game of cat and mouse, the airliners weaving in and out of their coverage whilst they did their level best to confirm their true identity.

So a plan was created to cover each base in her mind. "Sortiliena, engage the airliners. Confirm your targets first though. Itsuki, go with her and cover her in case any fighters show up."

"Yes ma'am."

"Understood."

"Knights, with me. We will handle those MIGs before they can become a major problem for our defences."

She hoped they would anyway…

/-/

The skies above Bana Bay were busier than ever before, Kirito thought as they climbed into the overcast sky, the only colours to contrast the greys and whites around them being made up by their aircraft…

Still, that wasn't at all important right now. "Kids, I'll be honest with ya, the situation's a complete shitshow. Our defences got caught with their pants down, and we're pickin' up the slack as best we can." Bercouli admitted, and he grimaced at the frankness of it.

"Tell us where you want us, sir."

"Anywhere, everywhere probably! Liena and Itsuki are handlin' the airliners, the rest of the Knights are doin' their best to do deal with the MIGs, an' Twilight are lookin' for any suicidal Cessnas. Take ya pick."

"Sinon, head towards Liena and Itsuki. We'll need you to act as our eyes out here."

"Understood."

"Tiese, Ronye, with us. We'll do what we can against the MIGs."

"We're with you, Kirito."

"Hold yer ho'sses, urgent transmission comin' from HQ…" That was never a good sign, was it? "You've gotta be kiddin' me, right? Are they sure, is that verified?" Bercouli asked, his voice now a rather less nonchalant tone than usual. "All aircraft, this is Commander Heirlentz of the 1st Eagle Wing. We have credible reports of WMDs being carried aboard those airliners."

"WMDs?" Argo muttered, before realising what he meant by that. "Those warheads are onboard the 'liners, ain't they?"

"I'd guess so, yeah."

"If you back a man into a corner, you should not be surprised when he shows he has nothing left to lose…" Itsuki mused in his usual apathetic way.

"Wax poetic later!" Liena called him out as quickly as his commanding officer usually did, soon silencing the poeticism before it could get any more depressing…

As if the possibility of a pair of WMDs being loose above a city, along with a wave of human guided missiles wasn't depressing enough already!

/-/

Kirito had lost track of time at this point, as well as their kill count - too many of them had simply been maneuvering kills, rather than direct fire.. Many of the MIGs had simply flown into the water either in a vain attempt to evade them, or a serious lack of understanding of the MIG-23s poor kinematic envelope; both had the same effect either way though - fewer MIGs left to reach the city…

The airliners had also been a similarly anti-climactic threat, he thought to himself - civilian ATC had proven far more competent than their radar operators, and managed to reroute almost every incoming aircraft into specific corridors… save for two.

The Adamasian Tupovlevs.

With the threat now properly identified, Fanatio had taken Knight over to verify and destroy them, leaving the rest of them to handle the last few MIGs…

"Kid, you've got them on the run now, only… oh come on, there's more of 'em?!" Bercouli groaned in frustration. "The hell does Chudelkin think he's achievin', other than killin' his own guys?"

"Tiger 18, we've got a visual on the new bandits - MIG-25s and a… no way, that's a MIG-29 isn't it?! Aren't they still prototypes!?" One of the interceptors called out, before the frequency fell quiet.

As did he.

The MIG-29 was a far more advanced fighter than the Fishbeds and Floggers they regularly faced - it was a true fourth generation fighter, easily comparable with their F-14 and Asuna's F-15, and in fact, it had been developed as a counter for the F-15 in particular.

It was light (in comparison), rugged and well armed for a light fighter - a pair of Aphids, a pair of Archers and a pair of Alamo air-to-air missiles, plus a 30mm cannon - all of which made for a fearsome opponent…

Though it did seriously make Kirito wonder how advanced Strangereal was, considering that his F-14 should've still been on a drawing board, and the MIG-29 shouldn't have even been that far along in development!

"You should know by now Bercouli, I don't play games… Do I?"

"You're either very brave or very stupid trying this…"

"As are you. You never could beat me in a fight, could you? Let's see your proteges do any better! Valkyrie Squadron… kill them all."

The frequency fell quiet, and Kirito reckoned he could faintly hear the sounds of Latin chanting in the background. He guessed this was the first big boss fight then, and they'd need their A-game about them.

"Kid, I don't know what he's up to, but you need to stop him. Just remember, he may sound like a weasel overdosed on helium, but he ain't a slouch in the air… he's right, I couldn't kill him up there, and that was way back when."

He reminded himself to thank Bercouli for the vote of confidence there, before strategizing for a few moments - five aircraft were approaching, four of them MIG-25s and a single MIG-29, the MIG-29 being flown by Chudelkin, no doubt, and it was up to just Argo, Asuna and himself to handle them.

Twilight and Samurai were busy handling the remainder of the decoy MIGs, whilst Knight were handling the airliners carrying the warheads, which would have been fine; the Black Blades were easily the largest flight in the 1st Eagles, but today, that wasn't the case. Sinon was on picket duty with Sortiliena, whilst Ronye and Tiese had already had to return to base to rearm, and obviously, Alice and Eugeo were grounded after their return…

Two aircraft versus five then.

"Asuna, we're going to need to even the playing field a little bit. Plan number 6, I think."

"A number 6 it is then."

He quietly thanked his past self for actually spending time to come up with various strategies for countering more difficult enemies in their downtime, and a number 6 was exactly that - the two of them would split up, forcing the enemy force to break rank themselves and scatter to find them.

During that time, both of them would attempt to encircle the attack force and engage them with Sparrows - Phoenixes, as useful as they were, had too long of a warm up procedure for the pop up attacks they'd need to rely on out here…

He looked over at Asuna's white Eagle, and with a signal from Argo, the plan was in action.

He snapped the F-14 into a 90 degree turn to the right, with the afterburners in full in order to climb and meet the MIG-25s.

A shrill warning rang through the cockpit - the warning sign that one of them had released an R-40 at them. "Kii-bou, missile warning, off our nine."

"Deploying chaff and flares." He responded, and shreds of foil dropped out of the back of the aircraft, whilst orange flares lit up the skies behind them.

The decoy measures worked perfectly, and the R-40 simply flew straight past them as if it had never seen them. "Argo…"

"Workin' on gettin' 'em in my sights!" She called out from behind. "Kii-bou, gimme an extra 90 degrees, would'cha?"

"On it." He told her, craning the F-14 around further to allow Argo to lock up the first Foxbat. He'd never really gotten the hang of the complicated radar set in the F-4, let alone their F-14, but if there was anyone he trusted to make the shot with the sometimes finicky Sparrow, it was Argo - all he had to do was put them in position to do so…

"Gotcha." Argo exclaimed, and he could feel one of the two Sparrows drop away from the F-14s pylons. "Black Blade One, Fox One!"

He caught a glance of the missile as it streaked away into the mid-morning sky, and lit it up with a distribution of MIG-25 parts… "Boom! Don't think they'll be landin' after that…"

"Good shot." He told her, and spotted the other MIG in the flight breaking to pursue Asuna. Yeah, that wasn't happening - the Foxbat was vastly superior in speed to their F-14, and so a quick lock was crucial to hitting the huge interceptor before it pulled away from them… "Second MIG at our twelve, ten miles.."

"Workin' her over now." Argo responded, as a missile tone came through his headset. "Blade One, Fox Two!" A Sidewinder dropped away from the launch rail, and much like the Sparrow, screamed towards the unlucky MIG.

Unlike the other MIG however, the much smaller missile failed to completely destroy the Foxbat, having showered its rear quarter with shrapnel and failed to really do much other than produce an acrid cloud of black smoke from one of the R-15 engines…

"Dammit!" Argo cried from behind. "The heck are those MIGs made of!?"

"No idea, but-" Before he could finish, the black smoke had started to glow orange instead, and a shower of metal poured out behind the Foxbat before it rolled inverted and disappeared into the clouds… "Well, that worked." He answered, dumbfounded by the seemingly out of nowhere disintegration of the MIG.

"Aye. Aa-chan, just-"

"Heh heh heh, Berco taught you miserable lot well, didn't he?"

"Get off our frequency, asshole!" Kirito snapped at the interruption. Of course he'd be using the same kinds of interruption tactics that they'd used; Ronye had warned him of exactly this after they had encountered the same trick on the first night of Operation Diamond…

Still though, where was the jammer, if he was doing it that way?

"Which one of you should I kill first? The ace in a day, or the leader…"

"Argo…"

"Don't worry, I'll shut that big mouth of his permanently!"

"Now those are fighting words…"

"Nah, ya stupid clown fucker, those are fightin' words!" Argo snapped back in a rare case of her losing her calm. "After e'rrythin' yer lot have done, we're killin' ya here and now."

"Tut tut tut, did the foolish Lieutenant forget to teach you all manners now? Is that really how you address your superiors?"

"Oh piss off already!" Argo shouted back.

"Captain Hosaka, don't let him get in your head, else he's already halfway to winning the battle…" They heard Fanatio comment on their frequency.

"Ya right, yeah. Time t' get serious, eh, Kirito?"

"If he's lucky, he'll be swimming home." He let a small smirk come across his face as he scanned the skies for the errant MIG-29.

No signs of it, which meant they were about to receive a missile to their face, one they were blissfully unaware of, or that he was going after Asuna instead. "Argo, have you got him on radar."

"Nope, the fucker's doing his best to make life difficult for us." Argo groaned, tapping impatiently on the radar scope behind him. "He keeps croppin' up an' disappearin', almost like he's turnin' his radar on an' off…"

"Asuna, you still there?"

"Still here, Argo. One of the MIGs is down, and the other is making an attack run on the city. They won't make it though."

"Good gal, jus' watch out for Chudelkin, we don't have him on-"

"I can tell you exactly where he is, he's on my nine o'clock at angels two. Going evasive!"

"Don't have to tell me, I'm on it. Asuna, hang in there, we're coming!"

"But will you make it in time to-huh?"

"Nah, they don't need to." Yuuki called out, much to his surprise - weren't Twilight over in the bay, handling the MIGs? "Sorry I'm late, Asuna, we just had to take out the trash! Oh, and I bought backup too!"

"How many of you are there?!" Chudelkin asked in horror, clearly realising the situation he found himself in - outnumbered twelve to one, and with all twelve of them absolutely livid…

He'd walked into the hornets' nest, and was about to get stung into oblivion…

"Don't s'ppose you'll accept the terms of surrender, will you?" He asked meekly.

"Not a chance, creep."

Suddenly, his demeanour changed from meek terror to suicidal rage, as the MIG snapped back towards them. "For the queen!" He screamed down the microphone, loudly enough that it produced feedback in their headsets…

"Jeez…"

"Kii-bou, I've got a lock on him."

"Black Blade Lead, Fox One." A Sparrow fell away from the belly of the aircraft, and screamed towards the last remnants of the Jesters. A few moments passed, and a fireball shone bright against the water below. "Did we get him?"

"Negative, he's still coming!"

"My turn then. This one's for everyone you killed and hurt!" He snapped the F-14 into a dive towards the burning MIG, and set up for a Sidewinder shot. The characteristic growl of the lock tone rang through his headset, and he fired off the last of their Sidewinders.

Despite the direct hit from the missile, the MIG-29 carried on, screaming along as it headed for the city. "Kirito, going for guns." He told them, pulling in behind the MIG and getting the reticle squarely over the Fulcrum. "Guns."

Knowing the importance of ending this, he bet on his aim being true, and held down the trigger until the cannon was completely empty - 2 seconds of ammunition, about 350 rounds all in all of both armour piercing and tracers, lit up the sky ahead of them, before they pummelled the MIGs lighter airframe.

All he saw was an explosion ahead of them, one that engulfed the Fulcrum completely, and left nothing but shrapnel in front of them. "Kirito, splash one." He sighed, pulling his mask away from his face in order to breathe a little easier. "Chudelkin's down, his plane's completely gone."

"Damn kid, you weren't gonna let him come back, were ya?" Bercouli whistled. "Can't say I blame ya tho'."

"Asuna, I've just downed the last MIG-25. They've gone down in Bana Bay."

"Is that it then?" Klein asked, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

"Black Blades, Samurai, Twilight, Knights, scope's clear. All attackers neutralised." The radar operative told them. "Good going out there, if they don't recommend you guys for some kind of medals, then they're bloody insane."

"No thanks needed, Watchman. All part of the service…"

"Though a pay rise would be appreciated." LLENN interjected.

"As would some new toys." Pitohui stated, a rare sense of optimism showing through in the mad woman's voice.

"I have had my eye on something for a while now…" Sortiliena agreed, though he could tell it was more in a joking sense.

"There's no pleasing you mercenaries, is there?" The radar controller laughed along. "We're just confirming that everything is clear, but we've got nothing here. All aircraft, you're cleared to return to Bana. We have divers going out there now to scour the airliners for the WMDs, so we'll be able to tell if the reports were credible soon enough..."

"You guys and gals might wanna tune your radios to 97.9… see what they're saying about you." Bercouli told them, and he tuned the radio beside him.

"The time is 10:00, and this is the Radio by the Bay on 97.9, returning to our regularly scheduled programming following that air raid. But first, we'd like to give a massive thanks to our brave pilots up there! We've even heard rumours that the pilots up there were the same ones at Oured Bay; the Angels! What we can say about them though, is that they saved a great many lives today with their actions, so we'd just like to ask our listeners to give them one heck of a round of applause!"

"Huh, we're famous now?" He thought out loud, momentarily forgetting Argo was in the back seat…

"Hah, gotta say, I'm likin' the glory here…" He could just see the grin on Pitohui's face at that statement. "Maybe we should ask for a pay rise after all…"

"Ya know somethin', Kii-bou?"

"Hm?"

"These past few days have been a right roller coaster, ain't they?"

"That's putting it mildly." He allowed himself to breathe a bit easier knowing that all that was left to do for now was a victory lap; between the frantic build up to the invasion of Adamas, the constant air superiority missions, losing Alice and Eugeo, recovering Alice and Eugeo, and now this… he knew one thing for certain:

They were having a day off after this.

/-/

The landings they all undertook at Bana City were nothing if not routine. The scene waiting for them as they all got out of their aircraft on the hard stands… not so much.

It truly felt like the party had started without them - the party probably having started with the return of the bombing crews, having neutralised the Jesters' Scuds, and even if the popping of the cork on a bottle had left a dent in Asuna's shiny new F-15… and it had required both himself and Argo to convince her not to order the poor sap to have to fix the dent himself - and some of them found themselves being carried aloft by the more rambunctious members of the crowd.

Thankfully, he and Asuna had been able to avoid that; though Argo had almost gleefully jumped into the human wave in front of them when it became apparent what they were doing…

"Would it be rude if I said I'm not too bothered about the celebrations, and went back to bed?" Kirito asked no one in particular.

"I think that's understandable-" Asuna responded, before breaking into the type of yawn that could only come from someone thoroughly exhausted… "Excuse me." She apologised for that, looking away awkwardly.

"Forgiven." He laughed quietly. "I can't believe how much has actually happened in the past few days, really."

"It feels like a few weeks, not a few days." Asuna agreed. "Or my body thinks so, anyway. It feels like I won't even make it to my bed, and I will just happily sleep on the floor…"

He laughed along - he perfectly understood that feeling too, especially as his legs felt like gelatin at this point. If he was being honest, a stiff breeze would be enough to cause him to sway like a tree branch… though he wasn't one hundred percent sure that it was just fatigue causing that.

On their return, Argo had joked about him taking Asuna out for a celebratory meal; to celebrate her ace in a day feat, he assumed, before he realised something he'd been doing his best to pretend wasn't there…

He liked Asuna - not as a wing woman, not as a friend… but in a romantic way.

Obviously, he'd known Argo had been trying to set them up for the past four months - and probably before that in a more covert sense - but this was the first time he actually had serious thoughts about listening to her suggestions…

"Asuna, you know we were talking about celebrating you being an ace in a day, right?" He asked, and she stopped to look at him curiously. If there was ever a time to back out, it would be now… but he decided to keep going. "Well, I was thinking, how about we go out for a meal… when we can both stand up, anyway."

Asuna looked genuinely caught off guard by the question, and had she been even slightly less composed, her mouth may actually have dropped open… as it was though, she just looked surprised instead, and he wondered if he had overstepped the mark a little bit there."It's fine if you don't want to though!"

"No, no, I'd love to! I just… wasn't expecting anything like that, that's all!" Asuna did her best to hide her surprise, and move back to her more composed demeanour, succeeding in doing so mid-sentence. "So… tonight? If we both wake up, that is!" She laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between them.

"Tonight sounds good, yeah." He smiled, and did his best to hide that his legs felt like they would buckle at any moment now… "Anywhere in particular, or…?"

"Surprise me!" She giggled, before leaning into him (or leaning on him, at this point it was hard to tell the difference in both of their cases) and hugging him.. "It's a date then!"

As Asuna left, it finally dawned on him completely… he had a date.

He had a date with Asuna.

Tonight.

And he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do for said date.

Still, as nervous as he felt about it, there was something oddly familiar about it - oddly in his eyes, because he'd never actually been on a date before. Something that wasn't dogfights against unspeakable odds and enemies who would torture and murder them without a second thought… just something peaceful for once.

A chance to actually act his age, rather than having to present himself as the leader of a military fighter squadron and to have his finger on the pulse of events all of the time… and who knew, maybe everything would go perfectly and Asuna would actually want to go on a second date after this?

They were known as miracle workers now, after all…

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 – For Those We Leave Behind

It had been about twelve hours since they returned to Bana, Jet reckoned.

He only reckoned that, rather than knew it, because he had spent most of that time unconscious, according to Yuna anyway. From her version of events, he and Alice had gotten out of the Bronco, and barely two minutes later, he had simply passed out.

The adrenaline must have finally worn off, he supposed. What that explanation didn't… well, explain, was why he found himself lying in a hospital bed in one of those horrible paper gowns… again.

He'd thought it was a nightmare the moment he woke up; a reminder of the last time he'd wound up in hospital after the "incident" as his family had called it, but he had quickly realised it was his reality, not his overactive imagination.

The next thing he asked was why his leg felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. The explanation for that was simple too - the ejector seat hadn't quite been as smooth as it should have been, and one of the restraining straps had only detached because it snapped. Had it snapped any later, he'd have lost that leg, rather than it just being very badly bruised instead.

He didn't fancy going down the path of Douglas Bader, he had to admit. Not least because it wound up with a stint in a POW camp, and a subscription to Colonialism Weekly in later life…

Still, he could walk, but he wasn't going to be doing any flying any time soon, he reckoned - Yuna had explained that the Commander had Solitaire flight all rendered combat ineffective for a few days, in order to recover from everything.

He was probably being optimistic if he thought that would heal in only a few days, and he wasn't talking about his leg there either…

That had been roughly six hours ago, and in that time, the powers that be had decided that he was fit to be released, on condition that he rested up, and so, equipped with a walking stick for now, he found himself back in his chalet.

Sat idly on the sofa with his leg propped up, he was reminded of the last bickering between him and Sierra; over a damn sofa bed of all things.

It seemed so utterly insane now to imagine that they'd found time to argue over a naff bed of all things, but he supposed that had been their relationship in a nutshell - and it hurt to know that he'd never see the damn idiot again.

Despite the soreness though, and even the pain of loss, he was glad to be back, and he'd been told that Eugeo had returned - actually returning ahead of them somehow - and Alice was being treated properly for her wounds by the base's medical team. It was at the mention of surgery in his mind that his thoughts returned to Sierra, and how he'd found him; had he found him sooner, maybe he could have survived?

He wouldn't have survived for long like that, even if he had been alive, the more sensible part of his mind told him.

"Oh good, he's awake." Itsuki remarked walking in through the door, and for once, he couldn't detect even a shred of sarcasm in the remark.

"Welcome back to the land of the living!" Zeliska remarked cheerfully, and seemed to be blissfully unaware of how much that statement seemed to hit Kureha beside her.

He'd always known her to put on a smile to try and hide her feelings, and she was definitely the type or person to discover why that was a bad idea - they both were - but now? She wasn't even doing that much…

The mask hadn't slipped, so much as it had fallen to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.

"How'd you feel?"

"Rough. There's kids around so I won't actually say how bad…"

"Hey! I'm only a year younger than you, Captain!" Yuna remarked.

"Are you?" Itsuki asked, clearly as taken aback as he was there. "Perhaps I should return the birthday cake with "Happy 13th Birthday" on it then…" Okay, there was the sarcasm.

"I'm not that much of a kid, Itsuki!"

"You all look younger than you are…" He shrugged.

"Yeah, well… How old are you then, Itsuki?"

"There are some secrets that everyone must keep…" Itsuki answered evasively.

Finally, he found a chance to interject. "Everything about you, in other words."

"Were you never taught about stranger danger…" It was quite amusing to watch Itsuki of all people finding himself on the back foot for once, and if he was honest, the teasing was helping him to ignore the tap dancing elephant in the room that was talking to Kureha.

He knew he'd have to face that one at some point, and he couldn't help but feel that it would go absolutely horribly…

"Kureha, are you okay?"

"Huh, oh, I'm fine." She lied so transparently that her statement may as well have been a freshly installed window.

The bags under her eyes and the tears seemingly welling up in her eyes said otherwise though. "You sure on that?"

"You want to know what's my problem, huh?" She asked quietly, before she carried on. "You survived. Because of course you did." Kureha said bitterly, and he tried to be measured in his response, to not snap at her because she was in the same boat as he was and to show some kind of compassion… she clearly wasn't of the same opinion, and it felt more like she was trying to throw him overboard…

"And what do you mean by "of course you survived", huh?" He asked her pointedly as he stood up to get a drink.

She snorted. "You had to be the damn hero and you got Sierra killed because of it! My friend, the love of-" She stopped momentarily, but just long enough to scrunch his face up in discontent. "You got him killed." She said quietly, and he realised something…

"You really did never grow up, did you?" He asked her. "Because this isn't all about you! You don't want to accept that you aren't the only one suffering here!"

"Fuck you!"

"And she lashes out because she knows it's true! He was my friend too, and I think you don't care about that because you just want to wallow in your own misery! Newsflash, missy, we are all in this boat, not just you!"

"Say that again, and I will bring you down to size!" She stood as tall as she could manage, though it proved ineffective – she was nearly an entire foot shorter than he was, meaning it felt a little bit like being threatened by a chihuahua… only the dog's bite was worse than its bark.

Hers wasn't.

"Oh, I would like to see you try…" He snorted in derision, and he stood up to his full height too, regardless of his bad leg, now ready for the inevitable fight that would break out from this. He tried to forget his attitude towards Alice – she hadn't deserved it, and he'd lashed out then, but Kureha was clearly looking for a fight, and if she was looking, he would oblige her right now…

"What the hell has gotten into both of you?!" Before any violence could occur, he was pushed back by Zeliska, who was clearly fed up with the two of them and now trying to break them apart before they did anything they'd both regret… "You two are meant to be friends, and you're meant to be grieving the loss of your best friend, not trying to murder each other!"

"He would know all about murdering someone, wouldn't he?" She sniped at him, now quite sure he wasn't going to lamp her because of Zeliska…

"Oh fuck off, you childish cow." He snapped back. "Do you not think I'm not just as ate up as you about Sierra? He was my best mate too!"

"I knew him since we were children, it isn't even close!"

"Oh for-grow up, for fuck's sake! I get that you're angry, Kureha. I don't blame you for that! I'm angry that you are so engrossed in your own little world that you can't see that you aren't the only one struggling right now!"

"And what would you know about struggling with losing Sierra, you two spent most of your time squabbling!" She spat back at him, and something in him snapped; he found himself laughing to himself in response…

"What would I know about struggling, huh? What would I know? I have to live with the guilt that it was on my watch he never came back, whilst I did! I have to live with the fact that I saw his body lying there, mangled almost beyond recognition, and that I won't ever be able to think back to those days before without imagining that somewhere in my mind!" He spotted her grimacing, almost as if a part of her was slowly realising that she was wrong… "You loved him, and you'll have that burden to bear for the rest of your life, but don't you dare think I don't have mine too, Kureha!"

They all paused for a moment, taken aback by his outburst, and he had the most fragile hope that he'd gotten through to her in that moment, as she turned away from him. He hated that it had gotten this far, but he needed her right now; they both needed each other if they weren't going to just burn themselves out… what they didn't need was this stupid sniping at each other!

Sadly, he was mistaken in his hope. "I wish you hadn't now." She told him quietly as she walked away, and with those five words, he felt something inside him completely shatter. Even externally, he recoiled slightly, almost as if those words had hit him physically…

He wasn't the only one, and even Itsuki had been caught off guard by the seeming sincerity in those words. "Harsh." He said quietly to himself, before Zeliska glared angrily at him. A single glare was all it took for him to fall silent again, and Zeliska placed a hand on his shoulder as Kureha left the room.

"She'll come around… eventually." She told him, trying to reassure him. If he wasn't holding back every emotion right now, he'd have told her she needed to work on sounding sincere, because she really didn't sound like she believed her own words…

"And so'll the heat death of the universe, and I'm pretty sure that'll come sooner." He said bitterly as sat down on a table.

"Jet, if you want, we can-"

"Zel, I love you as a friend, but right about now, I just need to be alone." He told her as bluntly as he could. Zeliska was one of the kindest people he knew, but she could occasionally get a bit smother-y, and he had no doubts this would be one of those times… and he didn't want to snap at her too.

Thankfully, she took the hint. "If you need anything, my door's always open." She told him with a sad smile, whilst Itsuki gave him a half-hearted salute as he left with her, a gesture he did himself and that had come to simply be a mutual greeting between members of the flight, rather than any show of respect.

The members of Idol Flight gave him a look of sympathy, and made themselves scarce before anything of note could be exchanged.

With the room now empty, and the pair some way away from the door, any barriers he still had collapsed completely, and he broke down. He did love Kureha – maybe not in the way she loved Sierra, but it was still a kind of love – but to hear her say that she wished he had died?

He was pretty sure that the shattering he had felt earlier was his heart, and given the tears in his eyes now, the world around him looked as if it had shattered with it. He wasn't sure how he must have looked to anyone else, had they been there to see all of this; a complete mess snivelling with tears running down his cheeks, hunched over a sink crying…

It was in that moment that, inside the raging whirlpool of emotions, rage overcame all others to approach the surface, and he lashed out at the nearest object which, in this case, was a mirror… his hand coming away from the encounter far worse than the mirror had.

The mirror had merely shattered into pieces of glass and silver, whilst his hand came away with small shards of the mirror still embedded in it…

In a sick and twisted way, he was glad he'd done that, purely because it meant the pain had forced him to think of that, rather than focusing on his former best friends; one dead, and the other dead to him.

In every other way though, he had regretted it instantly, the bloody mess of a hand showing that he had completely lost it, the blood, glass and shards of silver a testament to that. "Ahh, fuckkk…" He groaned in pain as he tried to wipe away the smaller shards, before moving onto the larger ones, and then onto bandaging his hand.

It was crude, but it'd do the trick as long as no one looked at it too hard. If they did, it might just fall off anyway…

Looking back at the destroyed mirror, and the horrific reflection of himself in what was left of it, he sat back on the edge of the bath and tried to calm himself down. "What the hell is wrong with me now?" He sighed as he asked himself that pressing question, but not expecting an answer.

He didn't receive one either.

/-/

The mood around Bana was still upbeat - people found themselves drinking and cheering, whilst others had started to have a game of soccer off to one side of the airfield.

Eydis, whilst still extremely happy at the return of the three people she loved the most, wasn't so blind to miss the obvious suffering in the air, and normally, she'd have been the first to try and comfort others… but with the mood like that, she wasn't sure that cheerful would help anyone.

If anything, it might even come across more insulting.

Which was why she'd spent most of the afternoon by Alice's side - she'd agreed with Zeliska that they would go and keep Lover-boy company in his chalet, whilst she and Eugeo sat with the delirious Alice.

She'd had the surgery required to remove the remnants of the bullet in her head, and thankfully, they reckoned she would recover sooner rather than later, and there was a good chance that her eyesight would be just as good as it had been before, but there was something almost unspeakably awful about seeing her best friend lying there, moaning, grumbling and crying about things that simply weren't there - she'd been genuinely terrified by the alligators on her bed, crawling up to eat her… alligators that were, in fact, a green pattern section of the bed, with black zigzags on it.

It was like watching someone losing their mind, only with the assurance it was just a side effect of the morphine fading away in her system…

That really didn't make it much better, she thought.

"Alice, if you can hear me, I'll be back in a bit. I just need to get something to eat." Eydis told her, holding her best friend's hand tight in hers. "Don't you want something too?" She asked Eugeo.

"I'll be fine, besides, you know what she's been like. Someone needs to be here…" Eugeo told her, and she felt like dragging him off to get food - he'd been by her side for nearly seven hours now, and she couldn't say if he'd actually eaten since… Well, she really didn't know.

"I'll bring you something then." She told him as she walked out of the room, and out to the vending machine.

Most vending machines offered drinks, and maybe even small snacks if you were lucky. The ones at the hospital, on the other hand, apparently served their staff's lunches - and if she imagined MREs tasted awful (they did) then she was almost dreading what the "Chicken Dinner in a can" would taste like…

Still, it wasn't like they'd get anything better at the moment - the hospital was a bit strict about bringing in food from outside, so it was whatever was inside the can that would be sufficient for their lunch…

Even if she did imagine it was going to look and smell a bit like dog food.

She walked back into the room and handed Eugeo a can of dinner - and hoped she would never have to utter that sentence again in the process. "Food is served."

When even Eugeo was giving her a look of "are you sure that's human food", she knew it was bad, but it was apparently all the nutritional value that was needed, and even if she didn't need it desperately, she knew he would.

After a few seconds of reading the instructions on the tin, they had set their lunch down to "cook" (or more likely, just to heat up so it was actually somewhat edible), and their attention turned back to the past few days. "I thought I'd never see you all again." She said quietly, her head hanging low in sadness.

"You said it yourself, Edith, we're a lot tougher than we look." Eugeo told her reassuringly, slipping back into the habit of using her real name, rather than her game name. "And besides, you know what Alice is like - there's armies that'd think twice before trying to keep her hostage."

"I know that, but… we saw what they'd done to the pilots they'd captured." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She'd done her damnedest not to watch any of the videos sent to the Osean commanders, but she had known it was bad.

Even Pitohui had looked shell shocked after she had walked out of the room, and rather than explain it to her, she had simply told her that she didn't want to know, and that she wished she had never known either…

"Yeah." Eugeo didn't say much there, but it was apparent that they had all seen what happened to the people held captive by the Jesters. "It's strange, I knew how bad of a situation I was in, but I never really thought I was going to die."

Before anything else could be said, a whistling noise permeated the room, and the smell of… something that almost resembled a chicken dinner actually. "Huh?"

"I don't know how to explain it - it felt like I wouldn't die, but whatever fate I did suffer, it'd be enough to make me wish I did." Eugeo grimaced, no doubt remembering whatever the Jesters had done to him during his time in captivity.

"Those marks on your neck…" She asked, almost wincing at the thought.

"They tried to interrogate me. Didn't get anything out of me. I got something out of them though."

Eydis laughed to herself a little bit, before she poured out her lunch into the dish in front of her. It really did look like dog food, she thought to herself - a light brown and watery gravy, with chunks of chicken, potato and vegetables floating in it... "Oh, that really doesn't look good." She said to no answer…

Mainly as Eugeo was too busy eating his, seemingly without a care in the world for how much like dog food it looked. So busy was he eating it that a realisation popped into her mind…"Did… did they even feed you guys?"

"Hm?" He looked up, realising what she'd asked. "Yeah, but it was just chunks of bread. Nothing substantial though…"

Alice groaned from the bed beside them, and in what felt like the first return to the Alice she knew and loved… turned away to avoid the smell of the food. "Away from me… get it away from me… not a dog…" She grumbled.

She turned to Eugeo with a grin, before she placed a hand on Alice's head and started patting her head gently. "Who's a good girl, huh? Who?" She gave her best impression of a doting dog mom…

"Eydis…" Alice groaned, this time in a rather more growling tone - actually sounding a little bit like a dog, if she thought about it really hard…

Even Eugeo couldn't help himself from laughing a little bit, the first genuine smile on his face since they'd returned… "It's a good job she's not fully conscious yet."

"Yup, otherwise her hands would be wrapped around me, I know." Eydis grinned at the innuendo. "More I think about it, that wouldn't be all too bad, would it?" She smirked, teasing him.

"You're incorrigible."

"Thank you!" She said smugly, despite not knowing what he meant in the slightest. "I wouldn't change either of you either."

"Eydis, you know I've got this now, right? Alice would be telling you to go and check on Jet, rather than her right now - I'm here for her, and I'd be surprised if he doesn't need someone there for him right now."

Eydis had done her best to bury her head in the sand regarding news about them, for fear of it being bad news at first, but Fanatio had quickly told her off about that, and it hadn't been long before they'd confirmed that Sierra was dead after that.

It was weird, she thought, as she'd never really known him too well; a friend of her boyfriend, but definitely not the type of person she chose to hang around with… and yet, it felt a little different without him around already…

"Okay." She agreed, and pulled Eugeo into a gentler hug than normal. He was still a bit weakened from his time on Adamas, so she was going a little more kindly on him for now.

For now anyway.

"Now, where do we reckon he'll be?"

"If he has any sense, he'll be taking it easy and resting in his room." Eugeo said, speaking as the voice of reason amongst the madness. "But it's Jet, so he could be anywhere but there."

"I'll try the bar. Call it a hunch."

"Tell him that Alice will kill him if he drowns himself in alcohol before she's had a chance to say thank you." Eugeo joked. "No idea if it's true or not, but it does sound like something she'd say."

"Heard… that…" Alice grumbled from beside them, and Eydis did her best not to laugh at the coincidence as she left the lovebirds together.

/-/

For once, her hunch was spot on.

Which was unfortunate, because it was the one time she'd hoped she was completely and utterly wrong.

In her experience, Jet was relatively straight-laced: he didn't drink, didn't smoke, and the only drug he knowingly consumed was caffeine, but he'd admitted that was purely down to it being a form of pragmatism.

Everyone else around him drank copiously, so he was left to pick up the pieces… usually when things had exploded or broken into a thousand pieces.

Tonight though, it looked like the thing broken into a thousand pieces was him, and she had absolutely no idea what to do.

In the end, she'd managed to blunder her way through a brief conversation with him before he had left for somewhere, leaving her to ruminate on everything…

"If I'm lucky, tonight'll be the night my sleep apnoea kills me…" He had said as he left, and for the first time in a long time, Eydis was left scrambling to think of something.

She was rash, bold, impulsive… and for once, none of that helped. Nothing came to mind to stop him from walking away and out the door. Her head sagged, feeling heavy on her shoulders, and she almost lay down on her folded arms on the bar, in defeat. "What do I even do, how do you even get through to someone in that state?" She asked no one in particular, not expecting a response.

"Well, I am far from an expert in relationships, but I imagine that moping in a bar is probably not the solution you are looking for."

It failed to click in Eydis' mind who was talking for a second, but when it did, she found herself sitting bolt upright, hand on her forehead in a salute. "Ma'am!"

"At ease, Eydis." The captain rolled her eyes as she took a seat next to her. "I take it that your reunion has not been the most seamless of experiences then?"

"Jet's shut off from everyone, and I'm worried he might do something really dumb; Alice is still somewhere between delirious and unconscious, and Eugeo is… well, actually, he seems to be doing surprisingly okay, all things considered." Eydis explained, before putting her head back into her arms in frustration. "I don't know how to help any of them!" She shouted, though her voice was muffled by the hardwood of the bar and her arms covering her face.

"Head up high, soldier." The captain ordered, and she begrudgingly agreed. "Eydis, I have lost people dear to me before. My son will never know his father, and it took a lot longer than I am proud of to come to terms with that, and I know that is not the same as this situation, but I can sympathise with Captain Edmondson losing his best friend. If you wish to help him though, this is what I wish I had when I was going through similar – you need to show him that you are there to help when he needs it, but make it clear you cannot help him without him wanting to help himself."

Eydis found herself processing what Fanatio had just told her – including telling her stuff about her personal life, something she had never heard the captain tell anyone before – but she agreed with her on it. She wasn't going to be able to pull him out of this death spiral single handedly; he needed to come to terms with everything himself, and that wasn't something she could do for him.

"When it comes to the other two though… I honestly don't know what to tell you, Eydis. Alice is a strong young woman, I do not doubt she will pull through, even if she has not done so yet."

"Ma'am, permission to hug you?" She asked.

"Granted?" Fanatio asked in complete confusion, before she pulled her commanding officer into the most grateful hug that she could manage… "Ack! Revoked! Permission revoked!" She spluttered, as Eydis let go of her. "Good lord, that boy's bones must be made of steel…"

"Ma'am, you can have my drink… I'm going to go and save my friends from themselves!" She said, a glimmer of hope relit in her eyes by Fanatio's advice.

She rushed off with a shout of "good luck" following her, and she began to formulate a plan in her head.

She wondered what it said about all of them that Eugeo, despite having been tortured, seemed to be the most upbeat and level headed of all four of them currently, but that was a question for another time, she supposed…

As it stood currently, her plan was rather bare bones, but at least that way, it meant that there was far less to go wrong, she had decided as she walked out into the bracing breeze across the airfield!

/-/

Walking into Jet's room felt like an assault on the senses, compared to its usual neat state.

Objects were scattered about haphazardly, clothing lying across the place; even hanging off the curtain rails somehow, as if it had been thrown around in anger and frustration, and there was an uncomfortable smell – one she faintly recognised but couldn't place. A strange, iron-like smell… oh no.

"Lover-boy, you here?" She asked nervously, fearing the worst. She knew he was already in a bad place, but he wasn't in that bad of a place, was he? She couldn't help but check her own pulse to make sure she wasn't about to hyperventilate as she inched closer to the bathroom, and to the source of the smell…

She stopped at the closed door, and tried to rub the images that her runaway imagination had conjured up away – those of him laid out, unresponsive in a pool of his own blood, or worse, sat there as he stared off into space…

She wasn't sure she could handle that; she wasn't really sure anyone could handle that, not really.

Pushing against the door gently, it prized open as she felt her heart enter her mouth, a sense of pure terror at the scene of horror she might find in there…

Thankfully for her, her worst fears weren't realised. The room was empty, saved for a tatter of towel and scattered clothes, though she instantly recognised where the source of the bloody smell was coming from – the mirror above the sink was shattered, as if someone had punched it so hard that it shattered. Easily enough force to draw blood, especially if he'd hit a shard of glass as he pulled his fist back…

And it had been long enough ago that the blood had dried onto the shards of glass, which explained the strength of the smell… but that also meant that…

"Oh, lover-boy, I am so sorry…" She apologised for not noticing this a lot sooner and realising that this was going to be a far harder task than she thought. "I should have caught this a lot sooner…"

That left one question though: where was he?

He wasn't here, he wasn't with any of Solitaire, and he sure as heck wouldn't have been in Sierra's old room either, so that didn't really leave many places he could go for solitude, except…

Ah ha!

The cabin in the woods that they'd found! It was far enough from the base that no one would spot it immediately, but close enough that they had been able to run an extension cord to it, so they had light, heat and power…

/-/

There was something eerie about walking through the forest next to the base at night, Eydis had decided, and she could absolutely see why it was such a cliché in horror movies now. She felt as if something could come from any direction, and she would be none the wiser if it did…

Of course, the only things out here were squirrels, birds and the occasional badger, plus Pina, the base's cat, hunting dormice, so it wasn't like she was too likely to encounter… say, a bear or worse, but that didn't help that sense of unease. She supposed that her guilt at how all of this had unfolded wasn't helping either; just how had she not noticed how bad of a state her own boyfriend was in? It wasn't like she hadn't been around him!

Not even mentioning the part of her mind that was trying to apportion blame – did he blame her for not intervening sooner? Did he blame her for not noticing, for being too engrossed in her own happiness to have them back? For being so selfish?

Despite this, she spent the next few minutes fumbling amongst the leaves and dirt in the dark, trying to find the extension cord that they had partially buried, so as she wasn't just walking around the forest in the dark, and actually had some kind of idea as to where she was going…

"Ah hah!" She exclaimed, striking the plastic sheathing on the cable. "I really did a good job on that, didn't I?" She asked the thin air around her, not expecting a response, before she followed the cable away from the base.

What felt like an eternity for her, as she remembered the time they'd spent out here, away from prying eyes, and then the few times they had had others around, usually for a campfire or barbecue, was in reality only two minutes, but the realisation that, no matter what she did, things probably wouldn't ever be the same again; Jet was spiralling deeper, to the point she wasn't sure how close to out-of-control he actually was, whilst Kureha had simply disappeared, hidden from anyone that wasn't herself. Zeliska and Itsuki seemed to be handling things a little bit better, but how people came across outwardly, and what they really thought, were two very different things…

She had plenty of experience on that front after all.

Still, her own insecurities could wait for now, and she peered in through the window. The light was definitely on, if slightly dimmed down, and she could see blankets huddled around the place, but no sign of Jet. That being said, she remembered that there were parts of the cabin that couldn't be seen from the outside anyway, and he knew that as well as she did, so it wasn't an unreasonable assumption to think he was in one of them.

"Anyone here?" She called as she opened the door and looked around. The cabin wasn't huge, it was only really built for two or three people to stop comfortably in, and maybe four at a maximum, with no real division of rooms, but it was still large enough that bits of "rooms" could be hidden at certain angles.

Like the bed, where a grunt came from Jet, who was currently lying on his front with his face buried into a pillow. The pillow was clearly taking the brunt of his emotional outbursts; tear stains across the white pillowcase that was only half on the pillow itself, having clearly been thrashed about the place…

Despite her nerves telling her that she would just make things worse, that she always just made things worse, she sat on the bed beside him. "I'm sorry I didn't notice all of this earlier. I was just happy to have you all back, and I guess I missed how awful it had been for all of you."

Just another grunt in response.

She leaned over and began to rub his back to reassure him. "Umm, I know I'm not the best at this, but I just want you to know I'm here for you now, and I just want you to be okay."

"It should've been me." He mumbled into the pillow.

"Huh?"

"It should've been me!" He shouted and she recoiled. "It's not fair! Why did he have to die, and I didn't!"

"No, it isn't fair, you're right. You both should've gotten out." She told him, though she knew he knew that deep down. Grief wasn't rational though - she knew that better than most people, it made you act in ways you'd never dare to if you were fully in control of yourself…

"I just… I want to just leave." He said quietly. "When I saw him like that, I wanted to go and kill every last one of the bastards… I knew it was a suicide mission, and I still wanted to."

"I won't let you kill yourself." She told him defiantly. "I won't let you out of my arms, if I have to. You saved me from myself, Jet, so let me return the favour." She wrapped her arms around him. "I know how hard it is to accept stuff like this, stuff you can't control like that. I told you about Shirley, didn't I?"

"The girl at the orphanage?"

"I wish I could go back, and just stop myself from being friends with her. Just so she'd live… but I've come to realise that I had no control over that. Just like you and Sierra's seat." She admitted, a realisation that she had finally come to terms with that as she did. "I know you're in a bad way, Lover-boy, but I want you to promise me something?"

"Like what?"

"That you'll try not to blame yourself for this. I know there'll still be moments that you do, I know I still do sometimes, but I want you to remember what I've said to you then. Don't hurt yourself over it, not again. Please, for me?" She pleaded with him, knowing that she couldn't take it if he was actually hurting himself again over his guilt. Just seeing that shattered mirror had been too much to take as it was…

"I won't promise you that I won't blame myself, Eydis." She deflated a little. She knew she wasn't as good at speeches as he was, but she'd thought it was at least a little convincing… "But I promise you I won't go attacking any more mirrors. I, uhh, I learned my lesson on that one pretty much instantly." He looked down at his hand, badly bandaged and held together with what looked like masking tape.

"Glad to hear." She smiled. "C'mere, and let Nurse Eydis bandage that up properly, will you?" She looked in her inventory for the first aid kit, and made a note to refill it after this, whilst he sat up and let her tend to his hand.

He really had done a number on it; it was cut badly around his knuckles and the back of his hand, and he clearly hadn't bothered to do anything other than bandage it with the tatters of a clean towel… "What's that phrase you use when someone messed something up? Dog's bollocks?"

"Dog's breakfast. Ghh! Uhh, that one means something's good." He answered, as she sprayed anti-septic onto the cuts.

"What's good about a dog's balls anyway?" She asked, wiping over the wounds with a clean wipe, just to be on the safe side.

"No idea, that saying never made much sense to me either." He admitted, as she took the bandages out of the plastic wrap. "Sorry I caused all of this…"

"Put your hand out flat, please." She told him, and he did, allowing her to wrap his hand up properly. "You're grieving. If anyone should be sorry, it's me for being so caught up in my own little world I missed the real world…"

"It isn't your fault I went and picked a fight with a mirror… and lost." He added quietly as she used the provided tape to make sure the bandages stayed in place. If she was honest, it wasn't the greatest of jobs, but it was a heck of a lot better than his makeshift bandaging at least… "I just… I wanted to be left alone, and I guess my anger got the better of me. I still do, I think."

"Jet, you're about one minor mess up away from a full-on meltdown. I can see that, you can tell that, and… just let it out. I'm here for you, come hell or high water, right?"

"I'm not… I don't want you to see me like this."

"Tough. We're in this together, right? That's just what a relationship is, it isn't just the good moments, the time we spend together… it's those bad times too, it's being there to help the other person when they need it most." She told him as she looked up at him from closing up the first aid bag. "And you know something, I'd say you need that help now, more so than ever!"

With the bag away, she found herself humming a song her parents listened to, and whilst her English wasn't great – she made a note to ask lover-boy to help her learn a bit more when he was in a better mindset – she knew enough to know what the lyrics meant…

"~Stop, stop, being so hard on yourself… it's not good for your health. I know that you can change, so clear your head and come round!~" She sang softly, and he closed his eyes with a gentle smile on his face, as if he was lost in her voice…

"~Just open your eyes, you might just get a big surprise! And it might feel good, and you might want to smile, smile, smile… Oh don't you let your demons pull you down, 'cause you can have it all… you can have it all…~" She carried on, and noticed him lip syncing along to the song too.

"So come on, so come on! Get it on, I don't know what you're waiting for; your time is comin', don't be late, hey hey!" His lip syncing had become more apparent, and he seemed, if not cheerful, then a little happier as he mimed along with her…

"So come on, so come on, see the light on your face; let it shine, just let it shi-ine!~" Both of them now sang, with her arm wrapped around his shoulder as she pulled him into her chest. "Hey! Let me know ya…"

"Let me know ya." He sang, though with considerably less enthusiasm. Understandably so, given his state, but it was better than nothing, she supposed…

"~You're all that matters to me…~" She sang her feelings to him, as she hugged him tightly to her chest and stroked his head.

It wasn't long before she could feel the tears in his eyes coming out, and she softly kissed the top of his head as she encouraged him to let it all out. "Shh, shh." She hummed, remembering how their mom had comforted her when she was at her lowest.

The embrace would last far longer than any they had previously had, lasting even as they both drifted off to sleep that night…

/-/

The cabin was an oddly calming place to find oneself in the early morning, Jet thought as he stirred against the bedsheets and Eydis.

The sun beaming through the windows onto the wooden floor, and basking both of them in a soothing glow, it all made him feel a little better as he remembered why he was out here in the first place – the loss of his best friend, and what felt like the complete collapse of his friend group to the infighting that came from that.

Feeling his face, he could tell just how vulnerable he had been last night – streaks from where he'd openly wept into his girlfriend's shirt were still obvious, and yet, she'd been there to keep him from doing any more damage to himself…

"Morning…" Eydis yawned in surprise, not expecting him to be awake yet. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone took an angle grinder to my vocal cords." He admitted.

"I forgot to say this last night, but… I want you to go talk to Strea about all this. Not right now, obviously, but when you feel like you can talk again. And, y'know, when we get back."

That scared him more than any fight, if he really thought about it. Not Strea, she seemed nice enough from what he'd seen of her, but the idea of talking about his personal problems to a complete stranger again. The last time had ended up with him just being prescribed antidepressants, and that clearly hadn't worked, had it?

But at the same time, he knew Eydis was right to want him to go and get his head in order. He was already going to be grounded for a while, and he had no doubts that would screw with him whilst he tried to find a way to broach any conversation with Kureha…

It hadn't been just him who had lost their best friend, but she had as well… and given how their last "conversation" had played out…

"Yeah." He told her, trying to keep his sentences as short as possible so his throat didn't hurt as much…

"I know you don't want to do this, and it's going to take a lot of persuasion for you to-wait, did you just say yes?"

He nodded, and for once, he saw Eydis speechless… "Heh, so it is possible to get through to you then!" She said with a gleeful glint in her eyes, before she pulled him into a hug. "Maybe we should get up though, as I think people are going to be wondering where the heck we are?"

Looking through his inventory, he retrieved a bottle of water and took a swig. It wasn't a perfect cure, but he did at least feel as if he could talk again now… "Yeah, probably a good idea, before either of us get accused of going AWOL."

"Nah, no chance of that!" Eydis told him proudly as she stood up. "Fanatio already knows I was looking for you."

He supposed that was something at least, that they weren't going to get done for having gone AWOL - even with everything going on, he couldn't exactly defend himself on that one, and the last thing he wanted was to drag Eydis into his misery…

She didn't deserve that.

/-/

The walk back to Bana was oddly serene, Jet thought to himself.

In the past few days and weeks, you could barely move without the roar of jets, turboprops and helicopters overhead, shattering any sense of calmness that they might have felt outside the base.

Today though, it was quiet. There was still the occasional roar of aircraft, but nowhere near the same numbers as there had been, something he attributed to the peace they now found themselves in down here.

Even the base seemed calm - no longer were people running around like headless chickens, preparing all kinds of weaponry and fuels for the myriad of aircraft they'd found based there, but rather only a few were moving at more than a walking pace, and fewer still were in war time mode…

Or it had been that way, until Sortiliena had told them that they were wanted in the briefing room.

He sighed - there really was no rest for the wicked, was there?

Luckily, the briefing was not one of war… but rather something even more anxiety inducing. "Well, I'm glad that everyone is in such high spirits this morning, because the Mayor of Bana wants to give you all a reward for your actions above the city." Bercouli explained to the gathered pilots, most of whom looked a state of some kind.

That state being pissed.

About the only ones who could conceivably be said to not look like they'd been dragged backwards through a hedge were Black Blade Flight, who instead just looked tired - happy and tired in the case of Kirito and Asuna, but tired nonetheless.

"Which means ya'll wanna sober yourselves up before tomorrow." Bercouli carried on. "The Mayor's giving you all the Freedom of the City, which is one hell of an award for… well, anyone really! Especially for guys and gals as young as yourselves…"

Rather than cheering, the reaction was more muted - partially down to the aforementioned hangovers, and partially because he reckoned no one had a clue what the "Freedom of the City" actually was. He only knew it by name, not by what it actually was, other than something that was bestowed on important people and military units… and didn't have to apply to cities either, given nearby Weston-super-Mare (definitely not a city) had bestowed it at some point…

"Err sir, one question." Asuna was the first person to speak up. "What actually is the Freedom of the City?"

"It's an honour bestowed on the freemen of the city. Allows us to parade through the city if we want… and drive cattle through the city." That confusion soon became more apparent, as multiple hands went up at the same time… "And no, we don't intend to use that last part."

Multiple hands then went down.

"Your dress uniforms have been retrieved from Canaveral, and are being delivered here as we speak, and for those of you who don't have them, a tailor has been sent to have uniforms fitted to you." Fanatio added. "Which means you will have today off, in order to prepare yourselves."

/-/

Preparations had been something more involved than almost any procedure that it was possible to conceive of in an aircraft, but eventually they had been completed, and the next day had rolled around.

Amusingly for the heroes of the day, Jet thought to himself, they had been given an old bus to be transferred from Bana City to the National Memorial Arboretum, some distance outside Bana, in the fields just off the main H38 highway, and the reactions were as… mixed, as he'd imagined.

Much more so when they were moving, and could barely hear themselves think as the bus flew down the H38…

Eventually though - and after a little bit of deafness - they had arrived at the arboretum, and been escorted through the place as things were being set up. Chairs had been set up in the monument, no doubt for dignitaries and other important people, whilst they got their first real sense of scale as to how big this simmering conflict had been; the monument was enormous, Jet thought.

Easily three or four times taller than them, and built on an already fairly large hill, the grey stone walls surrounded them in a circle, one with only two exits directly opposing each other. On each and every wall, the names of the dead had been written on them; every single person who had died in the conflict with Belka since 1905, 64 years prior.

An entire lifetime ago, nearly.

He wondered if the crew of the Harrier were on there by now, and all the people who had died at the Battle of the Bay; that had been months ago now after all, and he made a note to have a look once this was over.

The least they could do was put some flowers down to remember everyone by, he supposed.

"I thought this was supposed to be a big honour, so why does it feel so much like a funeral?" Klein asked, still standing at attention. Hell, they all were, despite the lack of dignitaries or any reason to do so…

"It's the context around it." Philia answered. "It just feels… wrong."

He couldn't help but agree with her there, everything just felt… wrong about this - like they were being rewarded for failure, if anything.

"Ya know, yer the first lot of pilots I've seen who ain't happen at gettin' awarded…" Bercouli laughed. "But yeah, these kinds of things aren't much fun for anyone. Holding it at a memorial don't help either…"

"Ah, good morning!" A smaller man, probably around 5ft 6, appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the memorial. "I take it you are all of the pilots? Either that, or there has been a monumental administrative cock up?"

"Yes sir, Commander Bercouli Heirlentz, CO of the 1st Eagle Wing here."

"Ah, excellent." The man said, rubbing his hands together. "Then we shall begin as soon as you are ready?"

"Everyone good to go?" A chorus of yes sirs and nods echoed around the stone walls, reflecting the sounds almost like they were standing in a microphone.

"Then let us begin." The Mayor took up his position on the podium in front of them and began a speech.

A speech that went on a bit, he reckoned from the… less than impressed looks of everyone there. Especially the poor sods filming the thing, who probably now wished they'd bought a tripod or a trolley of some kind, rather than just using their shoulders…

Still, the speech wasn't a bad one - thanking them for their service, and reading out a number of letters they'd received about their actions that day, before going on about how it is in the darkest times that the brightest light shines…

He wasn't so sure about that one, all things considered, but it wasn't really his place to speak out right now, so he kept quiet.

Eventually though, the speech ended, and the mayor retrieved a box from beside him. An ornately decorated box, with white and gold trim atop the blue package. "To the 1st Eagle Wing, it is my honour to award them this; the Key to the City of Bana. For services to the city and its occupants, and for shining brighter than even the darkest days, I humbly request one of you from each squadron to take the key."

The decision of who to send up was a pretty short one, settled by looking around at each other for about two seconds, before Asuna walked forward (or got nudged forward, he couldn't quite tell…) to take the boxed key from the mayor for the 303rd, Fanatio very much getting nominated to take it for the 301st… and before he could make any gesture of "don't you dare!" to the rest of his squadron, he found himself "volunteering" to do so for the 302nd.

"If you would like to give a brief introduction of yourselves for the audiences, we will continue."

The three of them looked at each other, before Fanatio went first. "I am Captain Fanatio, commanding officer of the 301st Fighter Squadron. Thank you for this honour."

"I'm Captain Jet Edmondson, commanding officer of the 302nd Fighter Squadron, and formerly of the Osean Navy. Umm, it's an honour to be up here, and umm…" Oh trust it to be now that he couldn't find any of the words to say!

"I'm Captain Asuna Yuuki, second in command of the 303rd Fighter Squadron." Asuna bailed him out, thankfully, by starting her own introduction. "Our CO was a bit shy, so I stepped in here." There was a small laugh from the audience. "But I'm thankful for the appreciation of our services to the people of Osea!"

There was a brief round of applause before the key was handed to them, along with a small medal pinned to each of their breast pockets as they turned to head back to their group. "As said earlier, the people of Osea all thank you for your service, and for your sacrifices to ensure those who cannot defend themselves have a defender up in the skies - the Guardian Eagles."

Oh that was not a good nickname, and the slight deflation of everyone gathered showed just how little they thought of the nickname, even if the sentiment behind it was very good…

The rest of the ceremony was much of a muchness, more speaking and more of his leg giving him grief about standing up stock still for nearly an hour straight, and eventually it would come to an end after the minute's silence for those that had been lost in the past months…

"Your leg's hurting, I take it?" Unusually, it was Itsuki who spoke up first. "Your leg is wobbling slightly." He told him, preempting his next question.

"It's nothing. Just standing up a bit too long, that's all."

"Sir, mind if we take a look around?"

"Sure, just remember; the bus back is at 4pm. See ya then." Bercouli told them before he wandered off.

"Is it just me, or do we get treated more like school kids than soldiers?" Tiese asked blithely, and found agreement from almost everyone gathered in the memorial.

An unfamiliar voice gave a gruff laugh from another part of the memorial. The man was clearly older, probably in his fifties at least, and wore the uniform of a Group Commander, a stark contrast to his tanned skin; skin that had clearly seen the wars, with a scar running past his eye… "That's just Bercouli for you. He's never understood how to command a unit."

"Sorry, umm, who are you, sir?"

"Oh, I was his CO all those years ago." The man explained, a story that checked out. "I should introduce myself, at least. Group Commander Vixur el Shasta, at your service."

The sound of many hands hitting heads in salute could probably be faintly heard around the arboretum at that one. "At ease, boys and girls. I've never been one for the stupid formalities either."

"How many names do you reckon are here, sir?"

"I couldn't even begin to guess, son. All I know is that it is far, far too many. Many of them the finest young men and women I ever met." Shasta sighed. "And now, a new generation suffers the same fate." He pointed to a familiar name on the memorial:

Flight Lt. Sierra Edmondson

It really was everyone on here then.

He wasn't sure why that felt so much worse to know. Maybe it was the sense of finality to it all - he knew that Sierra was dead, he'd seen and confirmed that with his own eyes after all, but to have it literally carved in stone…

Before they could really have any kind of discussion, the Group Commander started to walk away. "Well, it has been a pleasure to meet the students of my student, and I hope to meet you all again someday. Keep yourselves safe, would you?"

"We'll do our best, sir." Kirito gave him a salute as he walked off. "We'll do our best." He repeated quietly, a sense of frustration at something. Whatever it was though, Asuna seemed to be handling things with him, and the group had mostly left by this point, leaving him standing there, just reading the names of the dead…

"Captain, an aside, if you would?" Fanatio asked him, and he followed her out of the memorial and down to a nearby bench…

The arboretum was a quiet place, he thought as he sat down - the silent air of the countryside punctuated only by the rustling trees, a single bird in the trees above them... and the occasional rumble of a passing train off in the distance.

Fields went off in every direction from their location, and if you'd told him he was sat in the dead centre, he'd have believed it. It felt as if it went on forever - almost a metaphor for the eternal nature of war.

Many jobs would be rendered obsolete by the advance of technology; but soldier wasn't one of them. It merely evolved - a soldier of a hundred years ago might have had completely different equipment and training to a soldier of his time… but their job was always the same.

Go over there and kill or be killed.

As long as human nature stayed in play, that would be the way it always was. Lions led by donkeys, as someone had once said… and he hated that he found himself agreeing with that more than ever before.

"I suppose you're wondering why I bought you aside, Captain." He could guess why - to see that he wasn't alone in losing people in a sort of tough love way. Fanatio wasn't someone fond of sentiment, he imagined, and so that was the most plausible answer.

"I can take a guess."

"You imagine this is my way of telling you to man up, don't you?"

"Uhh…"

"It is not, I assure you." She laughed a little. "I am not that heartless. No, I wanted to remind you that, even in war, those we lose are not forgotten."

"Ma'am, it's not quite that simple. As much as losing Sierra hurts, I could handle that. It's a war, people die… as bleak as that sounds. I keep replaying that night in my head, and wondering if I could've done anything different… and the worst bit is, anything I did differently would've caused us to fail. Those missiles would've launched, and who knows where they were aimed?"

"The dilemma of a commander, Captain. Which do you prioritise: the mission or your people?"

"I'd rather I didn't have to make that choice."

"Perhaps. But if not you, then someone would have to make it, wouldn't they? Or at least, that is what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night…" Fanatio sighed, and it became apparent she was talking about herself in that comment.

He'd always wondered if the stone faced facade was her way of coping with that, or whether she was actually like that… but now?

He didn't.

"You tell yourself it was all for some greater good, and that those children died as the righteous… as if that would not be a kick in the teeth to their families. "Yes, your child died, but at least they were in the right…", I only know I would be apoplectic if I were told that about my son…"

Her son?

He supposed that made a little sense out of why he could feel an awkward sense of motherly responsibility coming from Fanatio sometimes, rather than as their superior officer…

"I hate being in charge Ma'am, I always have. I don't want to sound like I'm trying to shirk off any responsibilities, but…"

"Captain, how old are you?"

"Umm, 18 next month?" He answered, quickly doing the maths to calculate his actual age in his head - they had entered ACES in November, but it had started in October, so… "Yeah, next month, I think."

"You are still a child, burdened with the responsibilities of those that train for years. For what it is worth, I never wanted to be in charge either, and I am almost a decade your elder… just remember something I have learned the hard way. You are not alone, and delegating things does not make you a bad leader."

"Ma'am, it's easy to say that when my issue isn't so much being in charge, but being in charge as my squadron implodes."

His interpretation of what Fanatio had said earlier about being a mother was confirmed as she gave him a motherly smile, and one that he could almost detect a bit of wistfulness to… "Jet, if that were true, I doubt that most of your flight would be so eaten up about this. A squabble between friends like this is normal, especially at your ages, and definitely as your emotions run high."

Perhaps she was right, that he was making it sound more like a disaster in his head, rather than the squabble between aggrieved friends that it really was…

/-/

Walking around, Jet found himself pausing to sit down and rest. The arboretum was as massive as it was quiet, and he took note of the memorial he had sat opposite - a memorial from the Showman's Guild of Osea, an organisation he could honestly say he had never even once heard of.

He supposed it made sense though - showmen had to have existed, and so, a showman's guild was an obvious next step. Still, it really did hammer something home to him, something he also never really thought about whenever he'd been around war cemeteries before:

Every single one of these people had a life that they had lost.

He wasn't stupid or callous enough to believe they were just a statistic, but it was hard to really imagine what these people had been like in life - were they nice, were they kind, were they a joker or were they comically serious? What had they achieved before they died, and what had they been doing before they came here?

In the case of the showman's memorial, that realisation had hit him like a tonne of bricks - these people had spent their lives entertaining others, bringing joy to people… and their lives had ended in absolute horror, fighting a war over a piece of land that probably felt like some kind of forever war.

If there's some kind of justice in the world, it had a fucking strange way of showing it's existence, he thought bitterly.

"Guess there's a way to shut you up after all, huh?" His bitter anger at the universe was interrupted by the psychopath standing at the entrance of the shelter. "Wondered when you'd finally realise all this."

Realise what, he thought to himself. He'd almost wish Pitohui would be as blunt as usual and just spit out what she meant…

"Huh, so this is how far I've fallen - being lectured by the resident psycho." He mumbled to himself.

"You lot might think I'm a psycho, but tell me this - any of the people I've killed… were any of them innocent? Would they have come back again if I hadn't killed 'em?"

He paused to think about it.

As far as they were aware, her list of murders were all confined to the enemy, and as bad as it sounded… She was probably the ideal soldier to some commanders; tearing through the enemy like a hot knife through butter.

That didn't absolve her of actual murder though, and she could rationalise it all she liked, it didn't change that fact.

"Like it or not, we're fighting a war out here, and I don't intend to end up like this lot. A name on a stone somewhere. If that means I have to take other lives to keep my own… then yeah, I'm a psycho. Think that one over."

And so she left him to do exactly that, walking off out into the fields.

He'd have almost believed her - and he did believe that she believed all of that - but that justification only went so far. Pitohui enjoyed the fight, and perhaps she was motivated by survival… but that didn't explain that she enjoyed the bloodshed brought about in her path; that she wore every murder like a badge of honour.

He wondered if she even knew she thought that though, or was she just as deluded as anyone who thought this honourable?

"Oh, it's just you." Before he could even finish thinking about the rest of his rant about Pitohui's dubious morality, he was interrupted by her partner. "You haven't seen Pito have you? I turned around and she was gone…"

"She went that way." He pointed in the direction she'd ran off with his stick.

17 years of age, and he already felt like his grandfather… yay, he thought bitterly, almost anticipating the back pains.

"I'll let her wear herself out a bit. Makes chasing after her a little easier." LLENN sighed, and took a seat next to him. "It's a lot more grim out here when you feel like someone you know's out there, huh?"

"You lost someone too?"

"Yeah, before we joined up with Bercouli's lot. We used to be a flight of four - myself, Pito, Fuka and M. Belkans ambushed us one evening as we were returning from an interception… we didn't stand a chance."

"Sorry for your loss."

"It's weird we always say that, even if we don't have any fault, right?" He always forgot that LLENN was actually an adult - when you were only just about tall enough to see out the cockpit without a booster seat, he supposed that was commonplace. "But yeah, thanks. Sorry for yours too. Losing someone you trust sucks."

"Tell me about it." He snorted. "Worst bit is, I know he'd be telling me to pull my head out of my arse and get on with what needs to be done. I just can't though…"

LLENN didn't say anything in response, and he imagined that she was thinking that he needed to grow up a little - wouldn't be the first time someone thought that about him anyway.

"You aren't the only one to feel like that. We never had time to grieve, not really. I think that made it a little easier, if I'm honest. I've not got any answers really, but I think you just have to keep going - live for those who can't live anymore. That's my way of looking at it." The smaller girl in the pink flight suit kicked off the bench to stand up. "Well, I'd better go make sure Pito doesn't do something too stupid when she's unsupervised…"

"Thanks." He gave a half hearted smile.

"We're all in this sinking ship together, aren't we?" LLENN told him as she left, and he was left to look out at the memorial for another few minutes. Even with his eyes closed, he could still vividly picture those last few seconds on Adamas - bullets whizzing past him, explosions in the distance and the orange hue of the night sky, lit up by the inferno in the distance…

He grimaced and opened his eyes. "Well, if I wasn't an insomniac before, I am now…" He grumbled to himself.

"Oh." His bitter anger at the universe was interrupted by Kureha pausing at the entrance to the shelter he was sitting in. She looked startled to see him there, and seemed as if she wanted the world to swallow her whole for the awkward encounter. "Umm, sorry, I can come back when you've gone."

"Kureha…"

There was a telling silence between them as she turned away, and he could see her shaking slightly. Was she still angry? Was she upset at him not immediately lamping her for what she'd said? "I hate all this." She spoke quietly. "I don't want it to be like this."

Despite his sadness at what she'd said; a sadness that had soon morphed into anger and pain at the fact she wished he hadn't come back, he hated seeing her like this too.

She was one of his best friends, damn it, and here she was in this state. Hell, they were both right states at the moment - even with Eydis fixing up his hand, the bandage was a reminder of his anger…

"Same here." He admitted.

"What I said the other day… I didn't mean it. I said and then, I just thought "why the hell did I say that, I don't think that at all!", and… thank you for not just trying to beat me senseless for that."

"Did… did you actually think I would?" He asked, looking down at his bandaged fist, a reminder that perhaps it wasn't such a ridiculous thought that he might have snapped at her instead of a mirror…

"I wasn't sure. I was scared that I was pushing it too far, and you'd just snap. Or that I would just snap, and…"

"Fucking hell, we screwed this up, didn't we?"

Kureha nodded sadly as she sat beside him on the concrete bench. "Guess Cody was the only reason we never fell apart like this before, huh?"

"I think it was more trauma on our parts." He thought aloud. "Momiji, I know we're gonna struggle a bit, but I'd rather we struggle together, than struggle against each other, y'know?"

"I know, and what I said about you being a murderer… I-I-"

"I forgive you." He told her, and remembered something. "Umm, I know this isn't much, but…" He pulled the picture that he'd recovered off Sierra from his pocket and handed it to her.

"That was our first mission, right?"

"I think so, yeah. Excalibur didn't have any of its markings on yet, so it must've been pretty much day one then."

Kureha sniggered slightly. "I can't believe you called it that. Or that we let you call it that."

"Yeah, well…" He thought about it, and realised that name had dropped away very quickly. Although naming your aircraft was a time honoured tradition, naming it after a sacred sword was usually an excellent way to get the piss taken out of you.

"So… we're friends again, right?"

"Yeah." He held a hand out to her, and only then realised it was his bad hand.

A hand Kureha hadn't noticed until now. "Wait, what the hell happened to your hand?!"

"Boxing match with a mirror."

"You lost, I assume."

"Neither of us walked away from it unscathed, let's just say that." He undersold that it was more a loss for him than it was the inanimate object, and moved on. "I kinda see why we got brought here."

"It's hard to process all of this. I get this is every single war Osea's been in for… what, a century, but… this place is huge. It's bigger than Bana is, and this isn't even the graves, just the memorials."

"I don't even want to imagine how big the cemetery would be. This place is already bigger than the village next door…" He'd been paying attention as they drove here, and he'd realised the sheer scale of the place when compared to the nearby village - the arboretum dwarfed it.

"Umm, Jet, I know I'm going to regret asking this, but… was it at least quick?" Kureha asked, looking away with her teeth meshing together, and he almost immediately understood the true nature of her question:

Had Sierra suffered?

"Our seats failed. Mine nearly took my leg off, but his…" He grimaced at the thought, but found a morbid solace in knowing that his best friend hadn't been in agony for hours after hitting the ground - he'd almost certainly died on impact. "He didn't suffer, 'Reha. It was quick, yeah."

"When I said you were a murderer…"

"I thought this was water under the bridge?"

"Shut up a sec and let me speak." She told him, and he shut up. "I know it's horrible, but I thought you'd been captured, and… well, Cody had tried to defend you. That's why I called you a murderer; I was so angry I…"

He shook his head. "He was gone long before I found him."

Kureha snorted, and he didn't have to be telepathic to know she was blaming herself for this entire conflict - she always did. "I made up a situation and got angry at you for something that never happened. What the hell is wrong with me?" She said bitterly.

"You lost your best friend and got next to no info about what was happening. I'm not happy about you deciding I was the cause of it-" He watched her wince at the frank admission there. "-but, it wasn't unreasonable to assume I screwed things up. Wouldn't be the first time."

To his surprise, she laughed a little under her breath. Not much, but enough that it confused him massively. "What's funny? Did I say a funny thing?"

"No, just thinking… Maybe we dodged a bullet with dating. If we're this bad at communicating as friends…"

He shuddered at the thought - their relationship status would've been a revolving door, wouldn't it?

"You might have a point there." He admitted. "For what it's worth though, I love you. Same way I love Zel, and hell, even Itsuki and the same way I loved Cody. I wouldn't trade you lot for the world…"

Kureha, ever the tsundere type, he'd long since realised, went bright red in embarrassment. "Sheesh, imagine if Eydis heard you saying that to me!"

"She'd be happy I'm not half as stuck up about this sort of stuff as I was when we met." He rebuked. "Hell, she was the one telling me not to hold anything against you, because we're both in the same mess."

"I never stood a chance, did I?" Kureha sighed with a little laugh.

"How'd you mean?"

"You'll get it one day, Michael." Kureha smiled, and shook her head. "I suppose all of this helped put things in perspective a little."

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

"Please don't turn into Itsuki. One tortured poetry geek is enough, thanks." Kureha sighed, and he snorted in amusement.

As utterly miserable as the last few days had been, there was something nice about being able to sit around and joke about stuff as friends again, especially after all of the stuff they had both said…

It'd never be the same again, he knew that much, but considering that "the same" had led to this, maybe a bit of change was not such a bad idea.

Sometimes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26 - Summer of ‘69 

Summer in the Midlands region of Osea was a strange beast, Alice had soon come to realise. One day, the weather would be of the kind that made you wish that the base was nearer to a beach, with beautiful blue skies and nary a gust of wind; excellent flying weather, in other words. 

Other days, such as today, were not that. The fog had rolled in, and settled over Canaveral, forcing a suspension of flight operations until the fog lifted - something that wasn’t expected until later that afternoon… which meant they had the entire morning and probably most of the afternoon free. 

Alice was a doer - she was the type to do things because she believed they needed doing, and she would willingly admit that her sense of patience was… fragile sometimes. Contrary to Eydis, Eugeo, Jet, Kirito, Asuna, Argo, Sinon, Tiese, Ronye, Klein and Fanatio’s claims however, she was not impatient. 

If she deemed it worth waiting, then she would wait. If not, then it may have come across to others as impatience, but it was rather sensible in her mind - time was valuable, and since returning from Adamas, that belief had been reinforced. That wasn’t to say she had not mellowed a little though; it was hard to see the things they had seen and experienced and not return from it with a rather different direction to one’s moral compass, she thought, and she had explained to Strea as they underwent psychological evaluations to determine their suitability for returning to flight operations.

They had all passed those evaluations, but it was clear that the squadrons were being given extra supervision for the moment. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a very British exclamation from the other side of the room. “Bloody hell!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Yeah, last time I heard you shout like that Lover-boy, we were-”

“Nothing like that! You know what Red Flag is, right?”

“Yeah, it’s what you wave in front of a bull to make it angry.” Eydis answered confidently… and incorrectly. Bulls weren’t angered by the colour red per se, but rather having something thrown around flamboyantly in their face. A similar effect could be achieved by waving a blue flag in front of a bull, after all…“Or what Pito is a walking one of.” Admittedly, she was completely correct there, but not in the way that was being referred to.

Her comment received only an extended middle finger from the older woman in response, and Eydis gave a smug grin at having essentially gotten away with the insult. 

“It’s a military exercise.” Sinon answered, looking up from her book. “Held in the Nevada Desert from Nellis Air Force Base four times a year.”

“Yup, they pick the best squadrons to go and train. It’s kind of awesome, really…” 

“Well, Strangereal has its own Red Flag,” Jet explained, “And we’ve been chosen to go and show what we’re made of.”

“The 302nd?” Yuna asked. “Or all of us?”

“All of us, it says. It’s voluntary though, so I guess it’s like a side quest?”

“So… either we all do it, or none of us do?” 

“Can all flight leaders come and see me in-” Bercouli announced as he walked into the room, before spotting the group gathered around the flyer. “Oh never mind, briefing time, all of ya.”

/-/

After a few minutes, the larger than usual group; formed of every member of the 301st, 302nd and 303rd had gathered in the briefing room, and one thing came to mind… 

They were going to need a bigger briefing room if the squadrons grew any more!

They were already wedged shoulder to shoulder, and some of the smaller members were struggling to actually be seen over the taller ones, a consequence of them all crowding in without rhyme or reason…

“Okay, so I think we’re all here?” Bercouli started. “And yeah, we need a bigger room, don’t we?” A sea of nodding came from the crowd. 

“As you have probably all read by now, the 1st Eagle Wing has been personally invited to attend the Red Rider exercise in the Northern Heights. As this is coming from the High Commander himself, I struggle to see this as anything but a punishment.”

That comment raised some eyebrows amongst the gathered crews; why would an invite to a training exercise be seen by the Commander as a punishment - if anything, surely it should’ve been seen as a mark of respect, one that said they were viewed on the same level as the regular squadrons?

“Err, sir, maybe I'm being a bit dumb, but why would getting invited to a prestigious exercise be seen as punishment?” Klein asked the question on everyone’s minds. 

“Because they want us to fail. So they can parade us around as failures if we screw up, kid.”

“Yes, so not only do we need to be on best behaviour, but failure simply isn't an option.” Fanatio added, and Kirito felt his shoulders sag. 

“Yay… more pressure.” Kureha sighed in frustration. 

“It's typical of High Command, yes. I'd say they were trying to toughen you up, but that’d just be a lie - it's a game of politics, and to win, ya have to screw everyone over.” 

“Lions led by donkeys, sir.” 

“They're certainly asses, ya ain't wrong kid.” Bercouli nodded. “Unfortunately, they’re also the asses that pay our bills, so we're stuck listening to them.” 

Kirito had long since realised the Commander had very little respect for the higher ups they had to report to, but that was the first time he'd heard him be quite so frank about his disdain for them - normally, he'd kept it to diplomatic language, or double meanings…

“Still, these are your instructions - the entire wing is to report to Netherton Range at 10am on Saturday, and y’all want your niceties with ya. There's an introductory ball from 7pm that evening, where you'll be minglin’ with the other squadrons.” There was a pronounced groan from many of the members of the wing, and Bercouli nodded in sympathy. “Nothin’ too intense, but you should know, it's mandatory, and it ain't a full dress uniform affair either - suit and tie for the gents, ball gowns for the ladies.” 

“Is that all, Commander?” Fanatio asked. 

“Nope, I won't be there to supervise ya, so you're getting a promotion Captain.” The Commander gave a smug smile. “Or should I say, Commander…” 

The look on the usually stoic Fanatio's face was one to behold - in a brief few seconds, it had morphed from surprise and confusion, to just confusion… and finally levelled out at frustration. Something told him that he hadn’t actually told Fanatio about this promotion until now, mostly so she couldn’t refuse to take it… 

“Well, that's all for now. You've got the next few days off to get ready for everything, so enjoy yourselves! And I'll enjoy my holiday too!”  

/-/ 

Since their briefing, the base had become even quieter than it already had been - the girls had mostly disappeared to… actually, he had no idea where, thinking about it, and the boys had gathered as a group in the bar… 

He wasn’t sure what that said about them that they were sitting in a bar, at 12:30, but that was a question for another day, Kirito supposed. As for the topic of conversation, that was the elephant in the room… 

“What’s the Commander thinkin’?” Klein seemed equally unhappy to discover that too. “Five days to go get suited and booted and find a date?! Why not ask us to find the Titanic whilst he’s at it!”

“Uhh, Klein, we know where the Titanic is.” Jet pointed out. “But yeah, it’s really not- hang on , what do you mean, find a date? You have a girlfriend, you nimrod!”

Ignoring that he had no idea what a nimrod was – other than a maritime patrol aircraft, he supposed, but that was likely named after whatever a nimrod was – Jet made a valid point; since about three months ago, Klein and Sortiliena had spent an awful lot of time together…

“It’s, uhh, it’s kinda complicated.” Klein answered evasively. “I dunno if she’d go out with me like that.”

“Wait, you two aren’t dating?” Nautilus asked in surprise. Understandably so, the assumption amongst everyone was that those two were together, even if it wasn’t public knowledge yet.

“Heh, it’s not like that…” Klein looked away awkwardly, before Agil interjected to answer for him…

“It’s more of a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” type deal.” He explained. “Literally, I think.”

“C’mon man! You don’t have to throw me under the bus like that!” Klein exclaimed at the betrayal that was the “bro code”, as he called it.

“Pay your bar tab next time.” Agil shrugged.

Ignoring the bickering between the two adults going on behind him, he asked the question that was on his mind. “Why would anyone want their back scratched like that?” He asked without thinking about why that question was a bad one to ask out loud.

“Can we move onto a different topic that isn’t my love life… please!”

“Fine. Have any of us actually got a suit? I mean, it wasn’t exactly something I thought we’d ever need, not really…” Jet asked.

“I know Eugeo and I have dress uniforms, but I don’t think it’s that kind of ball.” He explained, remembering the “celebrations” after Operatic Society. He remembered how bittersweet it had felt at the time, and now, in retrospect, it felt even worse.

“Even if I did have one, I think it went down with the Harrier.” Nautilus answered, whilst Jet knocked his head on the table.

“Completely forgot about that…” Jet rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Well, that’s the easy bit then, isn’t it?” Klein took the lead for once. “A guys’ day on the town gettin’ suited and booted!”

“What the hell, can’t be any worse than the ladies night Eydis dragged me to.” Jet shrugged. “Hopefully there’s no fire involved this time.”

“I swear your life is a sitcom.” Nautilus shook his head. “But sure. I have to get one anyway.”

“Shouldn’t we ask Eugeo too? What’s he doin’ at the moment anyway?”

“Alice.” He answered and watched as Jet nearly fell off his seat after spitting his drink out in surprise. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” He backpedalled, realising what he’d said. It might have been true, but he hadn’t meant it that way!

Hopefully, that day couldn’t be any more embarrassing… it wasn’t like they’d have Argo there to tease them all whilst they got dressed up to see what fit best, after all…

/-/

On the first spare day they had, it was decided that they would visit a tailor in the nearby town of Mount Florida, a tailor that Jet and Nautilus apparently knew reasonably well, as they often ordered the materials needed for Rain, Seven and Yuna’s impromptu concerts from her, though this was very much their first time visiting the place physically. 

“So, how’d I look?” Klein emerged from behind the curtain in a suit that was certainly… different. It was an almost metallic grey colour, with a waistcoat embroidered in red and cream, and a champagne red tie…

“Excellent… if you’re going to the King Edward box at Ascot.” Jet answered.

“I understood none of those words.” Klein replied blankly.

“Posh box at the horse races.” Jet explained. “Don’t get me wrong, you look pretty good in it, but for something like this? Might be a bit much.”

“Wait, you know anything about fashion?” Eugeo asked, genuinely surprised. He didn’t blame him; he’d never have expected him to know any more than he did about fashion!

“Not really, but I had to go to plenty of stuffy do’s as a kid, and it sort of stuck.” He told them, and from the look of mild disgust on his face, Kirito could take a guess that he’d never enjoyed it much.

“So then, what would you suggest?” Klein asked, and Jet buried himself into one of the clothing racks beside them, before pulling out a black two-piece suit and a dark red, almost crimson, tie.

“Try this with a… let’s go with a… dark shirt.” He mused, and Kirito found himself wishing to be anywhere but here – clothes shopping was never much fun as it was, but at least he could entertain himself on his phone whilst everyone else tried stuff on in real life.

No such mercy here.

“Is it bad I wish we had a mission right now?” He asked with a sigh.

“Nope, I’m wishing we did too.” Eugeo agreed. “Still, I’m guessing you’ll be asking a certain someone to attend as your date…” He asked with a knowing look. It was an open secret that he and Asuna were technically dating, and had been since the return from Adamas about two months ago. 

The reason for trying to keep it a sort of secret was simple - they knew Argo had placed a bet on them getting together, and the longer they could keep her from receiving her winnings… the more it would annoy her.

As amazing as she was, Asuna terrified him when she was angry. She wasn’t the violent sort, no… she was the creative type. 

As Argo was currently finding out through the deprivation of her winnings on a 2500 to 1 bet. He could only imagine the level of stir crazy she was currently going at the mystery status of her bet…

“We’ve only been on one date, and it’s still kind of…” Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Eugeo that was what they were doing - he may have been his best friend, but keeping a secret? 

That was something you entrusted Eugeo with only if you were planning to spread it anyway. 

“Terrifying?” Eugeo answered, a sympathetic note to his voice. He supposed he had been through all this with Alice, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t understand the anxiety of dating someone way outside his league. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s terrifying…” His ego might though. “Just a bit… you know, nerve-wracking.”

“It’s rare to see you nervous.” Eugeo laughed quietly. “You don’t usually show it.”

“Give me an air battle any day.” He admitted. “I’m not even nervous about the dance, just asking Asuna out again…”

Eugeo rolled his eyes briefly whilst laughing to himself. “Why am I not surprised that the part that bothers you is the thought of socialising…” 

“Hey! Now you sound like my sister…” Kirito defended himself - he was antisocial, not a shut-in, thank you very much! And yes, there was a difference; he went out regularly and took somewhat decent care of himself, not generally traits of a shut-in…

His defence was interrupted by Klein, who seemed to perk up at the mention of the word “sister”... “You have a sister, dude? Is she-”

“She’s 15.” Kirito answered, already knowing where this was going, and deciding to shut it down before it went anywhere near there…

“Never mind, ignore that last question.” Klein backed off awkwardly, grimacing at his previous question. 

“Probably best.” Nautilus nodded as he came out of the changing room. “How does this look?”

As Jet gave another long winded explanation, he spaced out again and considered how he was going to do this, before metaphorically slapping some sense into himself. Asuna was a very upfront person, and playing around trying to ask her out again wouldn’t exactly get him in her good books, so it was best to just ask her to the dance. 

Nice and simple; a plan with no moving parts to go wrong…  

/-/

Eventually, after quite a lot of talking to himself in a mirror, and telling himself this was no different to last time, just in a much more formal setting; he had found something that resembled the courage to go and ask Asuna to the ball... 

It was simple, he told himself, and all he had to do was just to be himself...

Himself being Kirito, the introverted leader of the Black Blades, not Kazuto, the antisocial person he really was. 

"Asuna, umm..." Great start there, he thought bitterly. "You know that Officers ball?" 

"Oh yes." She smiled. "I have to admit, I'm looking forward to it a little bit." 

"You know it's customary to have a date, well, I was just wondering... Do you have a date yet?" 

"Oh, no. Honestly, I didn't even realise it was customary." 

He could just imagine Argo stood behind groaning that both truly were suited for each other, that both of them were idiots... 

"Would you like to go with me then?" He asked, going for the band-aid approach - that ripping it off in one swift motion was less painful than being gentle with it. 

There was a brief look of surprise on Asuna's face, but it soon faded to a smile. Not a diplomatic smile, or a sad smile, but a genuine one... "I would love to!" 

He quickly silenced the part of his mind telling him to punch his fist into the air, before regaining his composure. She wasn't just saying it to be nice, he knew, she was actually genuinely excited to go too! 

"Awesome! So, uhh, do we make plans now, or wait till a bit closer to the time, or..." 

"Honestly, I have no idea either." She laughed anxiously, and both of them looked away awkwardly at the fumbling of this seemingly simple task... "How about we say we'll decide later in the week?" 

"Sure." He told her. "So, what are you up to?" 

"Oh, Liz is building something insane again."

“How insane are we talking?”

“Invisible fighter.” Asuna answered without a second thought. “Or she’s joking about it at my expense.”

“Has she asked you to get the bubble in a spirit level yet?” He asked, jokingly. 

“No, but she did ask for tartan paint, and when I asked Jet about it, he just sighed and grumbled something about Liz being a rubbish boss.” 

“You know tartan paint isn’t a thing, that’s why?”

“Oh.” Asuna looked blankly.

“Yeah, tartan’s a pattern, not a colour.” He told her, suppressing a small laugh at the fast one that Liz had pulled. “I’d bet the invisible fighter’s the same thing - just a set of chocks and a ladder. Think I saw that at an airshow once…”

“Nope, I definitely saw something weird in the hangar. Like a black frisbee, I think?” Asuna said, though she didn’t seem annoyed at him for telling her that Liz was treating her like a fool… that would probably come back to bite Liz later though. 

And just what was she building anyway? 

A black frisbee in the corner of a hangar; some kind of UFO perhaps? 

Despite his curiosity, he decided that it was probably for the best he didn’t know - that way, Liz couldn’t throw them under the bus when something went wrong. The less you knew, the better off you were here… 

/-/

After four more days, the day of the big move had arrived, and if Kirito was completely honest with himself, it felt less like a mission, and more like a class field trip… 

Not that he was complaining about the more relaxed atmosphere for once, as after everything that had happened on Adamas, and the sudden return to operations immediately after, a trip up to the Great Lakes was probably what any good doctor would’ve ordered for them all. 

With all of their luggage loaded onto a C-135, it had become a waiting game - the range at Fairhaven Sands was roughly 250 miles north, and in order to not overwhelm the local air traffic control, they had decided to stagger their departures and fly in four ships the whole way. Deciding who went first had been a stressful affair, until Fanatio, in her usual blunt way of problem solving, had simply given them a bucket with 10 pieces of paper, each with a number written on it. 

Whichever number they drew, that was the element they would fly in. Unfortunately for him, he’d drawn number 9, meaning that Black Blade Flight would go near enough last - only Twilight had drawn a higher number, so they were dead last, much to the ever competitive (and impatient) Yuuki’s frustration.

Still, that had been a few hours back, and now, they were all here at Fairhaven. The base itself was a lot smaller than Canaveral was, and given its proximity to the mouth of the Bennion Sea, the runway was nowhere near as large and more hazards were present than at the vast expanse of nothing-ness that was Canaveral - the base was surrounded by sandy flatlands to the north (something that eventually became a golf course, seemingly - he could only imagine that would be fun on a tidal beach’s shores…), whilst a main road ran almost immediately past the eastern end of the runway, with traffic passing by at 60 kilometres an hour. 

Further south, the city of Bromborough made for one hell of an obstruction, with Port Bromborough handling massive amounts of container ship traffic, as well as ferries heading out into the Bennion Sea, meaning they were restricted as to what they could do to the south without frightening the hell out of the local populace. 

All in all, it made for an interesting change of pace for them, as well as a rather literal breath of fresh air - the sea breeze really was noticeable out here… 

“Well, that does appear to be everyone present and accounted for.” Fanatio seemed slightly unhappy to have the job of commanding them, even he could tell that much. “Well, that means the easy part is over. Remember, we are on best behaviour out here, and this is not a holiday camp…”

“Ma’am, we’re not -okay, not all- children. We do understand the consequences of screwing this up.” Eydis reassured her. “Umm, is anyone else getting that chilly feeling?”

“Sea breeze?”

“Nah, like someone’s dancing on my grave.” Eydis shrugged it off though. 

“And naturally, Bercouli’s still shirking off. Some things don’t change, do they?” A familiar voice said with a laugh. “Lady Fanatio, it’s nice to see you again.” Commander Shasta, the man that Jet had told them was Bercouli’s senior officer all those years ago… and now, he was theirs - briefly. 

“Yes Commander, would you believe he promoted me?”

“How heinous…” Shasta chuckled and there was a sense of confusion at what was going on. “Apologies, I really should introduce myself. Commander Vixur al Shasta, commandant of Fairhaven, and C.O of the 300th Advanced Training Squadron. I’ve heard a lot about you all, and I think I’ve met some of you.”

Beside the older man was a younger woman, probably around Klein’s age, if he had to take a guess. In some ways, he could tell that she was their equivalent to Captain-err, Commander Fanatio, though she had a noticeably different aura to her… 

As in, she actually felt approachable, and not absolutely terrifying to anyone who wasn’t in their squadrons… and he decided to keep that particular thought hidden away from said Commander, just in case.

“Captain Lipia Zancale, 2nd in command of the 300th, and-oh dear god, not you!” The woman’s introduction seemed to fall by the wayside as she spotted Eydis, and perhaps he was going mad, but she seemed to visibly back away from the Commanders at that realisation… 

“Hey Lippy.” Eydis said with an oddly flat tone for her… an honestly kind of terrifying one too for the usually cheerful girl. 

“Urgh, I thought I’d escaped you out here…”

“Yeah, I’m not thrilled by this either, y’know…”

A bit closer to the front, he could hear Alice asking Jet if he’d got any clue what was going on, though his answer was a sign that he was just as confused as they were. “Well, this is going to be fun, if even Eydis doesn’t like her…”

“We don’t dislike each other, we just… disagree on a lot of things.” 

“That would be putting it mildly.” Liena added with a sigh. “Expect fireworks if those two are around each other…”

“Err, noted?” 

“Yes, well… with that introduction complete, there is one more person to introduce you to, my liaison to your squadrons. However, she is still out on training, so you’ll meet her later. Please treat her just as you would any member of your squadrons, and all should be fine. She is an extremely capable pilot, and one of my best recruits - if a bit challenged in the rule-following department sometimes…”

Fanatio snorted in amusement. “She will fit right in then…”

/-/ 

After the introductions, one of the other squadron leaders was requisitioned to show them to the accommodation - a former holiday camp that the OAF had taken over some years back as the base expanded. 

In reality, Kirito knew that the explanation was as simple as “so they could reuse the same assets as the chalets in Bana without anyone picking up on it”, but he wasn't complaining - they weren't too uncomfortable anyway, and unlike the ones in Bana, they were only a few minutes from both the coast and the ops room… 

“Now that's what I'd call a room with a view.” He said to himself as he put his stuff away, and looked out over the sandbanks at the coast beside the chalets. 

“It is, yeah.” Eugeo agreed, dropping his bag down on the other bed. “Still a bit on the cooler side though.” 

“It’ll probably be better if we close the door, I reckon.” Kirito pointed to the sliding door that was still very much open… 

He could tell that Eugeo was mentally beating himself up for not noticing that… “You may be right there, actually.”

Before anything else could be said, there was a tap on the window; the tapping coming from Asuna. “Can I come in?”

“I’ll leave you two be.” Eugeo gave him a knowing look, and opened the door far enough that either of them could come or go. “Eydis is probably annoying Alice by now anyway, so I’ll go keep the peace…” He joked as he left, and Asuna came into the chalet. 

The awkwardness lingered amongst the breeze of the open door, whilst either of them mustered up the courage to talk first. Kirito couldn’t help but think how weird it felt having Asuna over at his place, and-No, this wasn’t anything like that… 

He mentally slapped the part of his mind that was raising its eyebrows knowingly, and told it to get back in that dark, dank hole he’d made for it.

Eventually though, he mustered the courage to go first. “So… Argo’s still going on about her bet then?” 

“Nope, but I can tell she’s trying to get us together again.”

“You know she won’t stop ‘till she gets paid.” He told her, though Asuna gave a knowing smile, clearly enjoying watching Argo squirm. It was rare that someone got one over on her, so savouring that feeling was probably for the best… they wouldn’t get another chance, he knew that much. 

“I know, but… considering how many times she’s teased us, you can’t say this isn’t deserved…” Asuna admitted. 

“Oh yeah, absolutely deserved.” He thought back to all the times she’d teased them just to get a reaction, and a slight smirk came to his face. “Umm, you’re welcome to hang around here if you want. I’ve just got to get ready for the dance, but-”

He watched the colour drop out of Asuna’s face briefly. “That’s tonight?” She asked, and he nodded in response. “I, uhh, Ineedtogogetrerady!” She spoke with the pattern of a machine gun with its trigger held down… and almost ran out of the room as she did. 

“Huh.” was all he could muster, as he stood there alone in the room, with only the breeze for company, before he closed the door and went off to get ready for socialising… 

/-/

As she ran, Asuna found herself berating herself for forgetting that stupid dance was today - her mind had been focused on everything else; preparing for it, getting everything sorted for the move to Fairhaven, settling in to the new living accommodations, and if she was honest, planning out how she wanted her date to go… that she’d forgotten what day the dance was. 

How could she be so forgetful, she had been raised better than that, hadn’t she? 

Whilst she was running, she forgot something else that one could argue was considerably more important - watching where she was going. 

A dull thud, and falling onto her butt later, she realised who she’d collided with; that being Argo, who had fallen rather further than she had, by virtue of being smaller… “Jeez, Aa-chan, anyone would think ya’d left the gas on!” Argo joked as she picked herself up. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Argo! My head is everywhere at the moment.”

“Eh, no harm, no foul.” Argo gave a so-so gesture. “Jus’ be glad it was me, an’ not a lamppost ya ran into, else ya’d have dinged up that pretty face o’ yers…” She looked away awkwardly, trying to hide a blush at the complement. 

“I’m still sorry though! I just forgot the dance was tonight, and-”

“Sheesh, Asuna, ya’ve still got five hours, y’know?” Argo laughed. 

“Yeah, I know, but if even Kirito-kun is-” Asuna immediately regretted opening her mouth there, because all of a sudden, Argo’s usual grin had become feral; as if she’d caught the proverbial mouse… 

“Kirito -kun , huh?” Argo gurned. “Interestin’ that ya know he’s gettin’ ready…”

Damn it, Argo knew. That being said, her plan wasn’t completely ruined - Argo still had to prove it to earn her winnings, after all. She snapped back to a rehearsed routine, one she had regularly used around pushy business types… “I went over there to discuss the flight inbound, all completely professional , of course.”

“Nyeheh, whatever ya say, Aa-chan.” Argo laughed to herself. “ ‘sides, if ya wanna know why he’s gettin’ ready this early, he’s prob’ly gettin’ himself ready to socialise. Might be a bit too early to get a peek o’ him in the shower, ya know?”

Asuna blushed at the thought, and then reminded herself (in rather stern terms) that she shouldn’t let Argo get in her head like this… “O-of course not! That w-would be-oh damn this!”

“Err, Aa-chan?” Argo looked on nervously. “Oops, I might’a broke her...” She whistled to herself as she headed off in a different direction in haste.

/-/

After a quick shower, Kirito had set about getting himself dressed up for the big dance, and found himself wondering about something as he looked himself over in the mirror - why was this even in the game anyway?

He supposed the Watsonian answer was “to make the players feel like they were being rewarded for their work”, whilst the lore answer was getting the squadrons accustomed to being around each other. 

Working together on a professional level was one thing, but he had to admit, most squadrons rarely hung around with people outside their squads, and the 301/302/303 were quite unusual in that regard, having relatively close bonds with each other outside of their work… 

“Heh, ya scrub up nicely Kii-bou. Didn’t think we’d ever see ya out of a hoodie, ya know?”

“Argo!” He jumped up in surprise, and wondered if he’d left that blasted door open again. “The door was shut, how did you-”

“Ya left it open, Kii-bou.” Argo told him with a roll of her eyes. “Anyone could’a snuck in… but then, maybe ya wanted a certain someone to sneak in… a certain second in command?” Argo grinned as if she’d hit the jackpot. 

“Argo, what do you want?” He asked blankly, not rising to her teasing. 

“Eh, nothin’ much. Just ran into Aa-chan, and she’s a bit stressed over this whole thing.” If the scuffs on Argo’s face were anything to go by, they’d run into each other quite literally. 

“She did seem a bit on edge when she ran out of here earlier.” He said offhandedly, before remembering who he was talking to. “Crap.” He uttered under his breath. 

“Ah ha! So Aa-chan was here!” Argo beamed with pride. “Oh wait, I knew that already.”

Kirito rolled his eyes at Argo’s antics and carried on getting ready instead. 

“Look, Kii-bou, I know I can be a bit much, but I do mean it when I say you two are good together, y’know?” Argo told him, a rare look of honesty on her face when he’d turned to face her. No teasing, no ulterior motives, just… being completely honest with him. “An’ if somethin’s goin’ on between ya, then-”

Before anything else could be said, Eugeo walked back in and interrupted her. “Oh, Argo.” He said, and Kirito felt beyond grateful for the interruption - mainly as he had no idea what to say next. Argo was many things in his experience, but open with her feelings? 

That was new to him. 

“Ah hah, just havin’ a chat with Kii-bou here. He still owes me some credits for the drinks last week, don't ya?” Argo said, an unusually obvious show of nerves on her part. 

He raised an eyebrow at that, but realised what she was going for, and played along. “I’ll buy the drinks tonight, that should pay off my debt, right?”

Her nervousness disappeared completely, replaced by a cheshire cat grin. “Nyeheh, I’ll hold ya to that, Kii-bou!” Argo told him, as she slunk out of the door. 

“Let me guess, she figured that you and Asuna are dating.” 

“...Yes.”

“I can’t believe you and Asuna both thought that would work for any amount of time.” Eugeo sighed, though it was coloured by an amused look on his face. “Of all the people you tried to keep it hidden from, you tried to keep it hidden from Argo.” He shook his head. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re both fools for thinking that would work.” Kirito agreed preemptively.

“Next question - do you actually know how to tie a tie, because…” Eugeo fumbled with his tie, trying to work out what he’d actually done with it - to be quite honest, Kirito didn’t even know what he’d done with it either; his school had clip-on ties anyway, so learning to tie a tie wasn’t all that high on his priorities list...

After the fabric equivalent of untying the Gordian Knot was complete, Eugeo helped him re-tie his tie, and he looked in the mirror again. “Much better.” Eugeo said from beside him. “Your tie looks like a tie, and not a knot now.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Kirito asked as he sat back down on the sofa. 

“I only need to put my suit on, and that’s a five minute job. I had a shower at Alice’s, and-”

Kirito winced. He did not need to know of his best friend’s love life, thanks! “Yeah, I get it, don’t need the details!”

“Not like that!” Eugeo went bright red at the implication, and backpedalled on his previous statement. “I meant we had separate showers! Just that it was whilst I was there!”

With that “misunderstanding” resolved, the conversation turned back to a more comfortable topic - that of what they’d be doing here. “So, you know any more about what we’re doing here than I do?” Kirito asked, and Eugeo shook his head. 

“We managed to glean that the exercises are squadron based, and that we’ll likely be working with other units, but that was the sum total of it.” Eugeo explained. “Eydis isn’t happy about that, I could tell that much.”

“I’d say we could do with planning things out a bit, but we’ve got so little information to go on that it’d probably be pointless.” Kirito sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Agreed, we would have to plan for every eventuality, and I don’t think we have time for that.” Eugeo agreed. “Maybe we can gather more information tonight. After all, there is a chance that everyone will be drinking, and that may be to our benefit here.”

“Argo really is a bad influence on you, isn’t she?” Kirito laughed. 

“Nope, that came from working for Liz.” Eugeo gave a wry smile. “It’s amazing what you learn when people’s guards are down…”

“Note, don’t piss Liz off.” He laughed as Eugeo disappeared into a different room to get changed. “Also, don’t get drunk around Liz.” He said to himself quietly.  

/-/

Eugeo had been a bit off in his estimate in how long it would take for him to get ready - it had actually been ten minutes, not five, and as they made their way to the place that they were supposed to meet the girls, he made sure to have a laugh at something as inconsequential as that; he supposed that was what friends did - they laughed at the small stuff like that, and were deathly serious when more significant stuff came up. 

Despite his defence that he wasn’t a shut-in, that also wasn’t to say he was a social butterfly either; he had had friends, but they were what might be called “fair weather friends”. Fine in school, when the going wasn’t all that tough, but they weren’t the type of people to rely on in a crisis… 

Hell, until now, he wasn’t sure anyone who knew fit that description anymore - he’d long since burned his bridges with Sugu, and the rest of his family weren’t around all that often most of the time. 

It was honestly kind of remarkable that, despite everything, he felt more comfortable around the people he’d known for less than a year, than he did his own family. Remarkable, and also a slightly painful realisation that he genuinely didn’t know how they’d react to him being in this situation - he simply didn’t know enough to say anymore.

“You’re cringing.” Eugeo pointed out, snapping him back to reality, and away from that particular death-spiral. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, nah, just thinking of home.”

“Ah.” That single syllable told him that Eugeo had probably had the same thoughts about home at some point too - did anyone actually miss them; or were they just left to get on with it? “Yeah, I try not to think about that too much. Hurts a bit too much. I think it does for everyone really.”

“It’s just- we’re supposed to be these war-winning fighters, and…”

“It gives us something to fight for.” Eugeo reminded him.

“Yeah, it does.”  Kirito gave a half-hearted smile, before realising something… “And before we go any further… Do you know where we are?”

“I thought you were navigating?” Eugeo asked in genuine confusion at the question.

“Ah.” It was remarkable how versatile that single syllable was, a traitorous part of Kirito’s mind thought in amusement - not only did it signify the discomfort at an awkward topic, but also the frustration at realising that the brain cell that you all had been sharing was currently in use somewhere else at that time… 

/-/

After a few minutes of intently staring at a crossroads in the camp, the pair had a rather awkward encounter with another group of pilots who seemed immensely amused by their navigation faux pas, but did at least point them in the right direction, as well as walk with them to the right place. 

The group were part of the 304th Fighter Squadron, one of their newly-established sister squadrons in the Eagle Wing, and a squadron formed mostly of the European players of ACES; hence the nickname they had been given of “Little Europe”. There wasn’t much to say about them, Kirito thought - they seemed almost normal in comparison to them. 

And if not normal, certainly more professional…

“Sorry we’re late!” Kirito exclaimed as they approached the girls. If they had made an effort to look smart, then the girls had made ten times more of an effort . It was rare to see them in anything but their more casual attire (or flight suits), but he couldn’t help but think how absurdly pretty they both looked dressed up. 

“Actually, I think you’re ten minutes early?” 

“Why would you think you are late, anyway?” Alice asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“No reason.” Eugeo answered quickly. Too quickly, and so quickly that it instantly raised the girls’ suspicions. “Fine, we got lost.” He admitted, folding as quickly as he’d put on a defensive front. 

“Understandable, this place is rather difficult to navigate.” Alice nodded, a look on her face that told him she was pretending that Eugeo hadn’t just gone from 0 to 100, and back to 0 in no time at all. “In fairness, I also got lost.”

Eugeo looked at her blankly. “Alice, you got lost in a building that was a rectangle once.”

“It was not a rectangle! It was some kind of brobdingnagian monstrosity masquerading as a rectangle.” Alice defended to all of their blank faces. 

“It was a whut?” Kirito asked in confusion. 

Eugeo just shrugged, as if his girlfriend hadn’t just plucked one of the highest scoring words in Scrabble from thin air, and carried on. “In Alice’s defence, that building was complicated - only where we’re from would you put rooms 486 and 401 next to each other…” 

“As much as I’d like to continue this enlightening discussion on Alice’s navigation abilities; we are going to be late if we continue.” Asuna reminded them why she was the second in command of the 303rd, and if he was being completely honest, closer to the actual commander. 

He was merely a figurehead for them, but Asuna knew how to run things properly, almost as if she’d spent her life preparing for a similar task… 

Alice gave a pout at being called out by her rival, but didn’t speak up, and the four of them began the journey to the hall from their meeting point instead. As they walked, there formed a slight gap between the four as they split into their couples; not by a large amount, but a noticeable amount if anyone perceptive was watching… a gap that felt less like the metre or so it really was, and more like the Grand Canyon instead. 

Air battles were one thing, as was being under pressure, but socialising with a girl who wasn’t so much out of his league as she was in a different plane of reality; especially when he was on a date with said girl, and even more especially when that girl was Asuna… who was now looking at him like he’d grown an extra head probably…

/-/

Asuna was no stranger to social events - she’d grown up attending them, and she knew the etiquette of the events well. She’d also been on dates before - not of her own choosing, of course, but they had occurred - and she couldn’t tell why she was so nervous right now! 

This was nothing out of the ordinary, was it?

If she gave it a little more thought, she supposed it was a noticeably different set of circumstances than those events had been - she had never wanted to go to those, but had been pressured to go, and whether that was implicit expectations or explicit instructions hadn’t really mattered. What had mattered was that she hadn’t wanted to be there, which was a sentiment that didn’t apply here at all. 

She had found herself on cloud nine after Kirito had asked her to the dance, and hiding that from her nosy roommate had been difficult; Argo was almost inhumanly perceptive at times, she’d come to realise, often knowing what she was feeling before she did. Not only that, but pretending that the lengths she had gone to in order to make this go smoothly were merely the ordinary for these kinds of events - they absolutely were not.

Though she supposed that was merely an element of her own life that she had found herself in control of for the first time - being able to choose how she appeared in public. It felt… unnatural to her now, knowing that before this, her clothes would’ve been maintained by the staff they employed, her choice of attire not her own, and her life mapped out in meticulous detail for her. 

Not her own person, but merely an extension of her mother’s will, it felt like sometimes, and in here… that was no longer the case.

Perhaps that was why she was now looking forward to an event she would have previously been neutral at best on. Or perhaps it was her company - the others had all been people who Asuna was expected to be nice to, usually older than her, and looking to cement relationships, be they corporate or personal, whereas at least to her, Kirito was… 

Well, he definitely wasn’t the type her mother would approve of, of that she was certain. All around, he was, as her mother would’ve so ineloquently put it, below her - and with almost a year of experience in this game, didn’t that sentiment feel weird to think about! - but unlike the others that she had been set up with, he was genuine. 

What you saw was what you got - not some douche with more hair gel than brain cells, or some narcissist who thought the world owed them, but all around, just a good person. Of course, he was human, they all were, but between him and Argo, they had taken her under their wing when she was at her lowest, and in his words, “taught her to soar.”

Maybe that was why she was now blushing like a lovesick schoolgirl. Wait, was she?

The awkward quiet between them was finally broken by Kirito. “Umm, you look really nice. It, umm, it really suits you.” He smiled awkwardly, and she knew that the machinery inside his head was currently working overtime. 

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she definitely was now though. “Thank you, you clean up quite nicely too.” She had no idea how much that phrase sounded like damning with faint praise until she used it in that context! “It makes a nice change to see you making an effort, I mean!” No, that was worse, not better!

Seriously, was this so difficult that she couldn’t think of an actual compliment?! 

Thankfully, Kirito didn’t seem offended by the unintentionally backhanded compliments, and just laughed it off. How he was able to do that, just roll with the punches and keep going, she really didn’t understand… “Thanks, it feels a bit weird to be out like this, you know? I’ve never actually had a suit before, so… ”

“Seriously? Never?” That caught her off guard a little bit, and seemed to relieve a little bit of tension in her mind. 

“Nope, never had a reason to get one.” He admitted.

“It must be nice for some…” She said quietly, before realising what she had said and quietly hoping he hadn’t heard her there. 

Unfortunately for her, he had heard her, and picked up on what she’d said. “You went to lots of things like this at home, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, my whole family did. I can’t say I enjoyed it, but that is life. We all have to do things we don’t enjoy sometimes.” She smiled, though even she could tell it was hollow. 

“Yeah, I called it school.” He joked. “I mean, I didn’t mind some of it. Engineering classes and IT were always fun for me, but sports? Pass.”

“Why am I not surprised that you don’t like formal schooling?” Asuna smirked. “You would’ve hated my school then. We had neither of those subjects.” It was also a girls only school, which would have probably made Kirito stand out like a sore thumb in it.

“I think we can agree that we’d both hate our schools, right?”

“Oh yes, that we can agree on.” She laughed along as they approached . “I think we’re here.” She pointed out as they approached the main building of the base. Unlike Canaveral, where the main building was very obviously a military building, and one that had always intended to be used as such, this felt more like the central building of a holiday camp of sorts. 

Which she supposed made sense, with half of Fairhaven having originally been a holiday camp anyway, and the airfield being built later on as war loomed on the horizon in the late 1930s. Far from some stylish interior, as they had seen in the officers’ mess back at Rechlin, or anything more rustic like the pub and garden they had built at Canaveral, the interior of the main building at Fairhaven felt more… lived in. 

At the front was a section that had clearly once been used for some kind of arcade - and she couldn’t help but think of Misumi, and that her reaction would be one of open weeping at the thought of a lost arcade - but was now repurposed as a command centre of sorts. 

Something that led to the slightly awkward arrangement of having to walk through the command centre to reach the venue; operators clad in full uniform, starkly contrasted by their suits and dresses, and a look of mild frustration on the operators’ parts as they walked past. They had to work after all… 

After a few moments though, they reached the dimly lit venue, and her first thought was one of slight disappointment - it was rather underwhelming, if she was honest. There was a large dance floor towards the front, with tables set up closer to the back of the room, and a bar area set up at the back of the room, she could see that much, but the way the room was lit was… to put it bluntly, awkward. 

Awkward enough that she completely missed the step in front of her, and only thanks to a quick save by Kirito was she prevented from going straight to the floor… “Th-thanks…” She thanked him, with a blush on her face at being quite literally caught by him. 

“No problem.” And he blushed at the praise being levelled at him too. 

“Let’s get seated, shall we?” She rubbed her hands down her dress, wiping herself down, and pretended like she hadn’t just nearly made a fool of herself… 

/-/

Despite the early stumble, the evening seemed to go well, and unlike the events she’d attended previously, this one seemed to fly by, and if she was honest, she found herself almost sad that it would have to end, and that they would have to return to normality the next day. Not a statement she would ever have said about any event previously… 

It had been quite fun to watch everyone just getting a chance to let their hair down, and act the ages they were. 

It had been especially fun to watch the girls of Idol give someone a complete dressing down in the form of a musical number after they had stood Rain up on a date apparently; something that, knowing the rest of Solitaire and Idol, would likely require hospitalisation for the idiot involved… or therapy to handle his wounded ego. 

It was hard to look like the “big man”, as Argo had described it, when you had an entire ballroom humming along with a song that completely dismantled your ego so thoroughly that it could’ve been mistaken for atomisation, after all… 

As the night wound down though, that had led to the obligatory final slow dance, and much to her surprise, Kirito actually knew how to dance. Not well, but enough that she could tell he’d made an effort to learn, and in the short time that had been available to them, it was not a bad effort either, she thought. 

Though the image of him slow dancing alone in his room was quite amusing, she thought. “I must be doing well, you’re smiling!” He joked, and she wondered something… 

“Is it that rare that I smile?”

“Nope, but if I wasn’t doing well, you wouldn’t be smiling.” He gave a cheeky smile. “You’d be going “oww” after I stepped on your feet so many times.”

“Ass.” She responded, though the insult had no heat behind it. “You’re lucky I find you attractive…” And a split second too late, she’d realised she hadn’t thought that, but rather said it out loud… and a brief panic set in. 

What if he didn’t reciprocate, what if-

“Same here, but it's not just that though, you are pretty amazing.” He blushed at the admission, and so did she. He hadn't just complimented her looks, as anyone else would've done in that moment, but everything about her… 

“Kirito-kun, you're what I wish I could be sometimes. You just sort of know what to do most of the time…” She admitted - she would weigh up the pros and cons in her head, she wasn't spontaneous like he was… 

“Is that what I look like? Huh.” Kirito admitted, genuine surprise mixed in with the blank look on his face at that. “Yeah, it definitely doesn't feel like that. Honestly, it feels like you're more that than I am most of the time. I mean, you're basically our leader for the most part, you do more of that stuff than I do.” 

With that explanation, a lot more of Kirito’s approach had suddenly become a lot easier to understand - that being that, just like everyone else here, he wasn’t some genius in air combat… 

Just another person who found themselves adapting to the situation, and who'd helped by taking her under his wing, helping her to become the person she needed to be in here. 

“Sorry if I've dis-” Before he could finish, she found herself pulling him into a kiss. It wasn't even something she'd considered doing before - holding hands flustered her, for crying out loud! - but it just felt… right. 

That was the only word for it as they kissed - it was right . 

What felt like a lifetime with their lips together was in fact about five seconds, and when they parted, Asuna could see the wide-eyed look of surprise on his face, one that soon faded away in favour of an earnest smile… “I guess we aren't keeping it a secret now, huh?” 

“Everyone knew already, Kirito-kun.” Asuna admitted with a smile on her face. “Besides, we were only hiding it to get back at Argo and her stupid betting ring…” She said as they walked back to the table to get their bags. 

What neither expected was the small crowd of their friends who'd gathered to start clapping .

“Jeez, cut it out, will you!?” Kirito said, his voice wavering slightly. 

“Aa-chan, you are absolutely diabolical, ya know that?” Argo told her, tapping her finger against her arm in disapproval. “But, ya know, yer too cute to stay mad at… yer buyin’ me this round tho’.” Argo grinned. 

“Aren't celebrations supposed to be on everyone else but the people celebrating?” Sinon asked with a look somewhere between confused and amused. 

“Who said we were celebratin’ Aa-chan and Kii-bou? I'm rich , baby!” Argo was practically bouncing around the place like a child overdosed on sugar… and she almost wished they had kept it secret now. 

Almost . 

/-/ 

As Argo jumped around in a way that Kirito reckoned meant she was very drunk, he found himself looking at Asuna in the moments when he wasn't talking to someone (as infrequent as those seemed to be at the moment, anyway). 

He couldn't help it, she was just completely beautiful to him - she was like a goddess in human form, an angel…

And he was so, so glad that Argo was too busy celebrating her win to actually be paying attention to anyone else at the moment, else he imagined the teasing would be relentless … especially if she ever heard half of the stuff his brain had just come up with. 

“Atta boy, Kiri-dude!” Klein exclaimed, handing him a drink. “You finally worked up the courage to ask Asuna out, and it worked out for ya!” 

Maybe he was going mad, but Klein’s collar looked a bit out of line, and-No, he was not going any further with that line of thinking… 

Down that path lay madness.

“Klein, you know we've been dating for like, two months now?” 

“You have!? Ya kept that one quiet…” The sound of face palming was genuinely audible in that moment, like a scene from an old parody movie…

“Hey, Eydis, you know you called me dense?” Jet said with a knowing tone… 

“Yeah, I was wrong… you're not the densest person here.” Eydis smirked, pointing at Klein. “He is.” 

“How am I dense?” 

“Boss, literally everyone else here knew they were dating.” 

“So, uhh, why has Argo only claimed her money now then?” 

“We were keeping it quiet so she couldn't prove it…” He admitted in a hushed tone, so as Argo wouldn't hear him. Dancing around like a toddler on e-numbers, she currently was, but her hearing was comparable to a bat's.

Fortunately for them, she was currently ordering half of the bar, and Kirito realised this night wasn't over just yet… 

“Kirito-kun, I'm going to have an early night I think.” Asuna told him as she stood up. “If we all need to be ready tomorrow, it's probably best if at least one of us is awake before midday…” 

“Good idea Asuna. I'll see you in the morning?” 

Almost as if she knew what his sleep schedule was like, Asuna rolled her eyes with a smile as she departed. “See you tomorrow, mister. Goodnight everyone.” 

“Goodnight, Asuna.” 

As she left, he could sense Eugeo and Alice giving him unusual looks, though he couldn't work out why… “Err, why are both of you glaring at me?” 

“You aren't going after her?” 

“Why would I? She's going to bed?” 

“Oh, you sweet summer child…” Alice sighed. “The routine thing to do is to invite her to yours for a night cap.” 

“What's a night cap?” He asked. 

“She means a hot drink. Like a cup of tea, or a hot chocolate.” Eugeo explained. “I'm stopping with Alice tonight anyway, so you've got the place to yourself if you want to invite her back.” 

He reminded them of an important fact. “Guys, we've only kissed once. I really don't think-” 

“You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, Kirito. As much as it pains me to admit it, my rival Asuna is special. Do not miss any chance to spend time with her, you fool.” 

He spared a glance at Eugeo, who gave him a confused shrug - especially at the rival bit, where no one really understood what Alice was thinking in regards to that, even Eugeo - but tapped him on the shoulder in partial agreement with Alice… 

“Fine, I'm only asking her back for a cocoa or something though!” He relented, and took off after her. 

He had no idea what was going through his friends’ heads sometimes, and this was one of those times - he imagined they'd been a couple for so long, even if they didn't realise it, that things they considered normal, really were big steps to everyone else…

Luckily, Asuna had only just about made it outside by the time he caught up to her, so it didn't look like he'd chased her across the base - that wasn't romance after all, that would be plain and simple stalking… “Hey, Asuna, I was thinking, do you want to come back to mine?” Now it was her turn to go wide-eyed at the question, as he had done when she kissed him earlier. “For a drink! Not like that! Just for a hot drink or something!” 

Far from trying to slap him into the next (or current, depending on your definition) century, she gave him a smile as she answered. “Sure. We can do some planning for tomorrow too before we go to sleep as well!” 

He wasn't sure what it said about Asuna that she seemed genuinely happy to be planning out their day, but he couldn't help but find her adorable like this, even if everyone else would've told her to turn off every now and again… 

Still, if she didn’t act like that, then she wouldn't be the Asuna he'd fallen for, would she? 

Chapter Text

Chapter 27 - A Change in Mindset

The morning after the ball was a surprisingly nice one - a clear blue sky, with very little mist (surprising, given the location), and even birds singing in the skies around the Bennion Sea - Alice thought to herself as she stood on the balcony of her chalet.

The view out into the Bennion Sea was not too bad either, even if the blaring of container ship horns was a little inconvenient to anyone sleeping… or who happened to be hungover after last night…

A person also known as Eydis.

"It's nearly 10am." Eugeo pointed out, as their friend closed her eyes wearily, and rubbed a hand over her temple.

"Too early, need sleep, head aching." Eydis muttered as she held a hand against her forehead…

"And this is why we do not let you drink." Alice sighed, as their commanders arrived and the room fell silent.

They had already met Commander Shasta, the older man looking a lot less drunk than she imagined Bercouli might have looked in the same situation, with two young women flanking him on either side.

The first, she recognised as Lipia, the second in command they had met yesterday, but the other, she did not recognise. She was a little older than them, possibly around 19 or 20, if she was asked to guess, with long white hair, and interestingly, a form of heterochromia she had never really seen before; her pupils being both red and blue, leading to an almost purple colour in their lighting… she would assume this was the woman mentioned yesterday, Dorothy.

"Good morning everyone, I hope you enjoyed yourselves last night." Commander Shasta chuckled, obviously aware of the states of some of them… "But from today, you will be separated into your assignments for the exercise. Red Force, you will be composed of the 303rd, 304th, 306th, 404th and 451st Squadrons, with airborne control provided by the 899th. Your home base will be at Blundellsands."

"Blue Force, you will be composed of 208 (F), the 301st, 302nd, 305th and E/C 4/12 Squadrons, with airborne control provided by the 1347th. Your home base will be at Crossens. Supporting you all will be the 808th Air Refuelling Squadron, with a safe zone around the town of Newport."

"In addition, you will both be provided with a liaison officer to me; their job will be to provide an objective assessment of your performances, both in action, and in your interactions with others, to me. Blue Force, your liaison will be Flight Lieutenant Dorothy Isiaih-Elisheva." The white haired girl stepped forward, and gave a small bow before the explanation carried on. "Red Force, your liaison will be Captain Lipia Zancale. Is that understood?"

That would be fun, Alice thought to herself - Eydis and Lipia in close contact, when they were assured that such a combination would result in fireworks…

But still, at least their liaison was a somewhat safer option; not that they knew anything about her, other than that she had a penchant for disobeying orders. She supposed that explained why she was here, given that they were apparently the misfits of the Osean Air Force anyway…

Not that that explained why Eydis had gone completely wide eyed as the room broke into chatter…

"Eydis?"

"I don't believe it…" Eydis mumbled to herself, before walking off towards Lipia and Dorothy.

"This should be interesting." Pitohui grinned, and Alice felt like smacking the psychopath around the back of the head. She thought better of it for two good reasons; the first being the reputation of her being a violent person was not one she wanted… and the second was slightly more selfish, in that she did not want to find out whether Pitohui was as dangerous on the ground as she was in the air…

"Dotty."

"Eydis?!"

There was a brief pause in the air, almost feeling like two opponents sizing each other up… before Eydis did what Eydis did best - pulling Dorothy into a hug. Unlike the usual feeling of crushing a normal person experienced with a clingy Eydis, Dorothy seemed to actually reciprocate that feeling… though it was telling she was blushing like mad.

"I thought you'd died when we began the retreat. We never heard anything from you guys until we got here…"

"It was a rather close-run affair. Our planes did crash in the Bay, but we were lucky that we were rescued not too long after. Besides, we thought the same about you too; all we knew was that you had flown towards the mountains, and we all assumed you would have crashed before reaching anywhere major…"

"Heh, yeah, we kind of found-" A cough came from Jet, one that reminded Eydis that Avalon was still so heavily classified that should they reveal it to anyone who was not present on that day, they would find themselves in a deep, dark pit in the mountains… "A way through. Yeah, we found a way out in the end, and we made it here. Not without a few adventures though!"

Dorothy raised her eyebrow at the unusual phrasing of Eydis' denial, but seemed to understand that asking that particular question was way above her pay grade. "Umm, okay then?

If Alice had been expecting to receive missions throughout this exercise, then she was sorely mistaken. The rules of the exercise were simple: each squadron was allocated to a side - red or blue - and would earn points for each successful mission they undertook, and lose points for each unsuccessful mission.

Each mission would be planned by each squadron, and the ultimate aim of the exercise was simple - disable the opposing side's ability to wage war by the end of the two weeks they would be here. Failure of that objective had no real consequences, but would be seen as a blemish on their record.

All of which sounded simple at first, until another addition had been revealed.

The squadrons would be competing against each other for the most points - even the ostensibly allied squadrons - something she found antithetical to their whole purpose as pilots; which she had had drilled into her was to cooperate with others.

The operating area ran the entire length of the mouth of the Bennion Sea, from the Cross Estuary in the north, to the River Dee in the south, which gave a decent separation between Blundellsands and Fairhaven; some 25 miles in all, and considering that they would not be operating from their home bases, but rather Fairhaven, roughly equidistant from the two bases, this would mean that the safe zone could be used to form up aircraft, and safely refuel without the risk of a simulated missile striking them…

The scenario they had been given was that Red Force had been able to capture the Bennionhead Weapons Range to the south, and moved gradually up the peninsula, taking Blundellsands just outside the city of Bromborough. Blue Force were therefore assigned to destroy the home base at Blundellsands and any build up of troops on the test range, alongside disabling key objectives on the range - the radar sites on the Chain Islands that surrounded the peninsula, and the two shipyards at New Portsmouth and Port Sunlight supplying the invasion force.

As they were part of Red Force, their job would be to defend that territory, and wipe any resistance from the map - the red interference had to be stopped at any cost…

Eugeo placed a hand on her shoulder. "Alice, it's only a war game, no need to get so into it."

How did he- no matter! "I-I am not getting too "into it", I am merely strategising…" She defended, though even she was not sure she believed her own words there.

"We have quite a big area to defend though, so it's not like we can keep constant patrols up, can we?"

"Those AWACS will be keeping a constant watch for us, won't they?" Tiese asked.

"Yes, but remember, we're going squadron by squadron." Asuna reminded them. "As stupid as that idea is."

"I agree with Captain Asuna, aren't we supposed to be working together? Not for points scoring?" Ronye spoke up, and she could not help but agree with her spirited outburst.

"I think we can all agree it's a stupid idea, but if those are the rules out here, then I doubt we'll get many points for going against them." Sinon added her thoughts. "But it wouldn't hurt to work with the other squadrons as far as building a picture of our battlefield goes."

"Agreed. First things first, I'll go talk to the 451st." Philia nodded. "I know the CO. We worked together before I joined the 303rd." She explained, to a raised eyebrow from Argo.

"So, if we can build up an intelligence picture, then we can plan for what Blue Force is going to do."

/-/

Whilst the 303rd began to take charge of Red Force, the same could not be said of the Blue Force, where each squadron had chosen to do its own thing to a degree - only a small amount of cooperation remained between the 301st and 302nd, who'd both realised that they would need the other; the 301st having little by way of ground attack proficiency, whilst the 302 lacked much in the way of fighters, being predominantly an attack unit.

Still, that evening saw the commencement of operations, and a small group of aircraft "took off" from the Red Force base at Crossens into the night sky above the shimmering estuary. In reality, they had left Fairhaven twenty minutes earlier, but had waited until they were over the city of Croston in order to form up.

"Solitaire Lead is airborne." Jet called out, performing a wide turn over the estuary, with the recently repainted EF-111 to his rear. The black helped make the giant Raven more closely resemble its namesake… the pink and purple, on the other hand, did not.

Not unless the raven had been an omen of an impending explosion at a Dulex factory, anyway.

"Idol Lead is just behind you, captain." Yuna called out as the electronic warfare craft turned in behind him.

The plan was a simple intelligence gathering mission, probing at their defences and using the Raven's onboard sensor suite to determine how quickly they could react, and for his part, it was a test of his new Jaguar's NAVWASS system, as well as how competent he really was at low level flying…

Unlike the Tornado, the Jaguar did not have a terrain following radar as such, and so it fell on pilot skill to not just crash into the Berrion Sea or the weapons range at night and in poor visibility conditions, such as were often present in coastal areas. A nice, easy job he thought to himself sarcastically…

"Remember, we aren't here to fight, just get a sense of their reaction times." He told himself just as much as he told Nautilus and Yuna - their Raven had received a few modifications after Adamas, now being able to carry AIM-9s for self defence, as well as a range of anti-radar weaponry for SEAD missions, but it was still an F-111 at heart.

Big and bulky, and under no circumstances was it a fighter, despite the misleading designation.

His Jaguar on the other hand, was a far smaller aircraft than he was used to flying - the Phantom and later Tornado were all big twin seaters with the power to back them up; the Jag, whilst still a twin engined attacker, was very much a single seater, and with a workload to match…

"Are you telling us that, or yourself?" Nautilus asked, half joking-half seriously.

"Take your pick."

At night, the coast was only faintly lit up, with only navigation beacons used by passing ships and the lights of the town of Newport off to their port side providing any kind of directions for them. On the upside, that darkness would be masking them too; he'd only been able to spot the Raven because of its afterburner trail as it maneuvered, and with their engines set to a lower power setting, they'd be specks in the darkness, only able to be spotted by someone with truly exceptional eyesight…

The visibility wasn't the thing that concerned him though - the radars on the Chain Islands on the other hand…

Their plan would see them split up as they passed back by Fairhaven, with the Jaguar taking a reece run over the islands and New Portsmouth, whilst the Raven would dash along the Blundell Estuary, passing by Blundellsands as they went, and gathering intelligence on the defences at Port Sunlight, before performing a tight turn over the Bay of Blundell, and running like hell back up the estuary…

With any luck, the two targets would force any potential interceptors to split up to engage them, and with both aircraft being admirable low level performers, the thinking had been that it would make the task of interception far more difficult.

Well, until they noticed a whacking great EF-111 screaming past the airfield at near the sound barrier, anyway. He imagined that would be something of a giveaway as to what they were doing, if he thought about it logically.

The fifteen mile journey back to Fairhaven passed by quickly, and the two aircraft descended to their operational altitude of around 500 feet as they passed the first waypoint. "Solitaire to Idol, good hunting."

"Idol to Solitaire, you too Captain." Jet spared a moment to glance as the Raven broke away into the night sky, the gloss white of the airbrake giving only the faintest glance of an aircraft in the darkness…

Knowing that using the afterburners would give away his position immediately, he kept to a more sedate 500 knots, a speed he knew he could manage without the afterburners lit. "Smooth as butter, eh?" He said, before realising he was alone. "Oh. Yeah." He sighed, reminding himself that talking to himself wasn't healthy behaviour for anyone…

"Idol to Solitaire, we have signal traffic; two fighters are on CAP near you."

"FAB." He responded, scanning the skies around him. At this low altitude, he doubted he'd be able to see them anyway, and hoped that would extend back to them too, both of them knowing that something else was out there in the black void of the night, but neither of them could tell what or who that something was…

In the distance, he could see the lights of the harbour of New Portsmouth, the cranes towering into the darkened sky, whilst a number of presumably retired container ships floated at anchor, and containers were stacked across the port to simulate the loading and unloading of containers onto the ships.

And now he could see afterburner trails just above him, at his one o'clock. "So much for sneaking about then." He thought, expecting them to spot him in a few moments, and begin to turn to engage him.

Except they didn't.

They simply kept flying straight on, passing overhead and continuing on course for… oh. Of course! They'd spotted the Raven as it skimmed the estuary, but not the Jaguar, given its location and distance from them…

He checked, remembering that he had at least had the cannons loaded with sim rounds, and the two fighters looked like the two F-4s of Samurai Flight, going by the blue camouflage. Perhaps he could score an early win for the blues, and knock out two of their fighters in the opening salvo…

The Jaguar wasn't a fighter - it was a tactical strike aircraft, fast and agile on the deck, so it could twist and turn around the terrain it was likely to find itself amongst, but it lacked any kind of air-to-air radar, and even when fully armed, it only carried a pair of Sidewinders and its guns for self-defence… and he was going to use it to surprise the two Phantoms and force them to break away from the Raven.

He could keep up with the Phantoms in a turning fight - briefly - which was more than could be said for the Raven; the bigger aircraft carrying all kinds of defensive equipment, but that extra weight and mass made it a far less capable fighter.

"Solitaire to Idol, prepare to bug out. I'm gonna make an exit for you."

"Understood Captain."

Throwing the throttles of the Jaguar open, he pulled the aircraft into a high-g chandelle, and levelled out behind the Phantoms. In a straight up fight, the Phantom could simply run off, leaving him in their dust, but that was only if they'd spotted him, and hopefully they hadn't…

With the afterburners glowing, he knew he'd only have so long before it was too obvious to ignore in the night sky, and he would go from hunter to hunted, but in his mind, he had just enough time to close the gap, and score hits on one of the Phantoms before that became the situation-

Beep, beep, beep.

"Great, guess that one's on me; Solitaire Lead, I'm spiked, going evasive." In these conditions, going evasive was always slightly terrifying, Jet had thought to himself - not only was there a chance of a missile hitting you anyway, but there was a high chance of hitting the ground if you cocked it up; 1500 feet was not a lot of room for error at any time, much less at night when you could only barely make out the ground below…

"Solitaire, looks like their defences just lit up, they're readying SAMs now…"

"Thanks for the heads up!" That meant the missiles weren't SAMs then, but rather AAMs, from a target he couldn't see. Fun, in other words, as he dumped chaff and flares behind him and tore the Jaguar around into a 180 degree turn.

There was no confirmation of a hit from the AWACS or from mission control, so he could only assume they had missed him, before another alarm began blaring; this time informing him of a SAM launch below.

In reality, his first confirmation of a SAM launch would've either been the smoke trail from the missile itself - likely to be a confirmed kill at 1500 feet if he was reliant on that method - or a heads up from intelligence gathering aircraft like the Raven, but this was an exercise, and - as realistic as it was supposed to be - making it too easy for one side was usually a bad way to train people.

"Missile shot trashed. In the clear." He announced on the joint frequency, before spotting the Phantoms now coming back for blood. "Oh for- jinking!"

Not only were the Phantoms now approaching, but he caught a glimpse of the two aircraft that had fired on him earlier - a pair of very colourful Mirage 4000s… Alice and Eugeo.

"Crap." He had time to utter, before a radar-guided Super 530D scored a kill on him, and left him with a bright red light in the cockpit. "Solitaire Lead, I'm dead." He said, sighing in resignation.

"Sorry Captain, we didn't know they were there." Yuna said apologetically, as he turned the aircraft to the north and turned on all of his lights. "Opening frequency, this is Solitaire Lead. Kill was confirmed on me; climbing to angels 10."

"Understood Solitaire Lead, all aircraft are aware of your position now."

He pulled his mask away from his face, and sighed in frustration. "Damn it."

Thankfully, being killed on the first night of the exercise did not mean you were grounded for the next two weeks, but rather that you would not be available to fly again that day. Luckily, "that day" now consisted of about 20 minutes, so that was no big deal - it'd basically be midnight by the time he touched down at Fairhaven anyway.

It was more that he'd failed to spot the obvious trap, and gone straight into it anyway, that pissed him off somewhat. Had he had Sierra in the backseat, he'd have pointed out that it was so obviously a trap… but he didn't, and he fell for the feint, hadn't he?

Some leader he was…

/-/

"So at the end of that mission, the scores on the doors currently stand in favour of Blue Force. However, Red Force, you successfully dealt with a reconnaissance mission, and took down one of Blue Force's best assets, which gives you an extra 50 points."

He could just imagine Kureha glaring at him for that failure in tactical thinking, and- "There's always tomorrow, right?" She placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

"Yes, we will shoot you down tomorrow as well." Alice said with an air of smugness around her at the victory... so much for her professed love of chivalry, he thought. She wasn't a sore loser, but a sore winner too.

"Alice…" Eugeo told her off with just a single word, that word being her name. He wondered just how often he'd actually done that in their earlier lives, before thinking about their next moves more tactically.

The tactics hadn't been the problem; in fact, they'd gotten in unmolested, which suggested their control wasn't set up quite as effectively as he may have hoped. Small forces could, and clearly had, snuck past the defences, appeared at the objectives, and, had they been armed, caused complete chaos before they could've retaliated…

"Oh don't bet on it, blondie." Kureha told her with a smirk. "We're nothing if not resourceful…" She warned them as they headed off to properly debrief the mission. "Jet, what's that word you used to describe someone annoying?"

"Uhh, which one?"

"The one you said meant horse."

"Oh, "right mare"?"

"Yeah, that's it. She really is a right mare, isn't she?"

"You said it, not me." He covered his tracks in case Alice was still listening - he'd already been threatened with the insertion of a rusty spoon somewhere by her, and didn't wish for round two of those threats… "But yes."

"Still, we did get our butts handed to us out there…" Yuna sighed, as they all sat down. "But we did get some useful intelligence on the defences of the ports, right?"

"Assuming they aren't mobile, then yes we did." Zeliska agreed. "But we learned something more valuable about their tactics than their defences, they are leaving it down to the wire. They didn't know where you two were until it should've been too late - they were lucky it was a reece run."

"I agree. Had that been a bombing raid, then their ports would've been in flames by the time you were shot down, Jet. Hardly a success there, only barely does it count as a pyrrhic victory."

"So tactically, they're either going to have to adapt, or they lose a lot of points in mission failures, to gain a small amount in kills."

"Simply put, yes." Seven nodded. "But that adaptation will take time; and we have just seen that at least some of the 303 seem… unwilling to learn a lesson from that."

"Perhaps we put that theory to the test tomorrow morning?" Itsuki thought aloud. "A pair of strike forces, each self-reliant - one fighter, one bomber, one ECM aircraft - should be enough to break in, and with some pressure, could perhaps assist us in regaining some of our points from them."

"I know we won't get all of our points if we do, but perhaps we could get the other squadrons involved. That might be safer than sending a small force into that wall of fire."

"That is something that has been bothering me too." Itsuki mused. "We have long been told we need to work together, and yet now, we are encouraged to work against each other?"

"Itsuki has a point, that change in mindset would be… sub-optimal in the long term for us." Seven agreed. "So why encourage it?"

"Maybe it's like one of those high school anime tournaments?" Rain asked, with confused looks from most of them. "Umm, what did I say?"

"No, maybe Rain is right - we don't know all the rules here. What if one of the rules is that every time you screw over your colleagues, you get x points deducted?"

"You think they would be-" Jet realised what he was thinking mid-sentence. "What am I even saying? Of course they'd pull a trick like that. Encourage that rivalry to beat it out of us."

"It's your choice, Jet. You are our senior officer here…"

"Yeah, we go with Rain's theory until we know more. I'll try and explain it to the other COs in the morning, assuming they'll listen."

"You think they won't?"

"Fanatio will, the others… I honestly don't even know. I'm not too sure Captain Zancale won't just scupper the whole thing either."

"She's supposed to be a passive observer, right? She shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't and won't are very different things, Rain. I don't trust her not to try and screw Eydis over, thus, screwing us over too."

"Now this is new, our fearless Captain being paranoid…" Itsuki smirked. "I would be careful about that, else you may end up like me…"

"Nah, for once, I think he's right to be cautious. You saw how those two acted earlier, what's to say it won't get ugly really quickly?"

"She is supposed to be objective…" Seven added. "Else she wouldn't have been picked, would she?"

"Let's hope she's professional when the chips are down, else these are going to be a long two weeks…"

/-/

"So, that's our theory." Jet had finished explaining his thesis to the gathered squadron leaders, to a sense of unease around the room.

As commander of the 301st, she was willing to put aside any differences they may have had, in order to work together to achieve a common goal. The leaders of the other squadrons however, seemed to have their reservations - understandably so, given they had only met the previous day, and had not the experience with the relatively unconventional style of leadership Jet espoused.

"I, for one, would be willing to work together." The young woman in charge of 208 Squadron, Aurelian Air Force, told them with her certainty throwing a weight of legitimacy behind Jet's call for teamwork. "As it stands, we all have our strengths and weaknesses, and working together will alleviate some of the most egregious issues."

"I'm game. 'Long as you all pull your weight, anyway." The man in charge of the 305th agreed.

"I suppose I would be outvoted if I disagree anyway." The middle aged man in charge of EC 4/12, Emmerian Air Force, said, though his disagreement probably stemmed from not being in charge anyway - she had seen his previous actions, and whilst she made no assessments of his flying, his demeanour on the ground left little doubt that he was something of a gloryhound.

"Well, Captain, it appears we are all in agreement then. Blue Force will function as a team, not as individual squadrons." She smiled at her student, a sense of pride at the development he was showing as a leader. She could only hope the same applied to the Red Forces too, though the competitive part of her hoped it would take a little longer to come to the same realisation…

"Still, we do need an overall command structure, don't we?"

"I think we shall work better if we meet up and discuss any strategy as a group - for anything else, we can leave to individual leaders to talk to one another." The young woman put her opinion forward.

"Yeah, I can work with that."

"Well then, what do we know?"

"We performed a reece run earlier, gathering electronic intelligence and some degree of location data." Jet explained, pulling out an annotated map of the Weapons Range. "This is what we got. Their response time is poor, and we'd nearly gotten out by the time we were spotted…"

"Damn, either you guys are really stealthy, or they're really slow…"

"Eh, a little of A, a little of B." Jet shrugged. "But we think that the first objective should be striking the Chain Islands to remove as much of their eyes on the battlefield as possible."

"I concur." The young woman agreed. "If their eyes are closed, then they will be blind to our next moves."

"So, we agree, they're priority, right?" The 305th's CO asked. "But how do we take them out? I bet they're guarded pretty heavily, and one of my guys spotted radar picket ships around them earlier on our run…"

"208 are our air force's anti-shipping specialists. We can handle the ships, if other squadrons handle the destruction of the radar sites."

"Two of our aircraft are equipped for SEAD, and I reckon I can get another three wired up for it, if we need it." Jet answered. "We'll need fighter cover though, as I'd put money on at least one of the fighter squadrons in the Reds looking for targets…."

"Then we will do our best to handle them." Fanatio agreed. "If the 301st and 4/12 provide cover, that should be more than enough to delay them."

"Good, then do we reckon we can launch around 1pm?"

"Why 1pm specifically?"

"Because I know for a fact that an annoying blonde knight of the air goes for lunch at 1pm on the dot, and I'm enough of a dick to disrupt that intentionally."

"I like the pettiness there. Good on ya." The CO of the 305th grinned, and Fanatio rolled her eyes at it. No one needed to encourage the pettiness of those two after all…

Still, it'd be an interesting situation to see how the squadrons performed against each other in anything other than completely friendly spars, she thought.

/-/

Lunchtime had arrived, and Alice found herself sitting at the table, preparing to eat her burger.

She was a creature of habit, she supposed, but it was not like she was going to be needed right now, was it? It would involve Blue Force deliberately timing an exercise to sabotage her lunch time, and surely no one would be so petty as to time an entire military operation as to do something so minor as to inconvenience her lunch?

Scramble, Scramble!

Oh yes, she had forgotten that both Jet and Eydis were on the other team, and they would absolutely do something so petty to annoy her… and damn her OCD for making her so predictable!

As Alice sprinted out to Osmanthius II, her new Mirage 4000, she tried to consider her option - the 4000 was a good all-rounder, but it wasn't really an interceptor like her old Mirage III. It was far heavier for one, and despite carrying a far superior weapons fit in the form of a pair of Magic II infra-red guided missiles, and a quartet of Super 530F radar-guided missiles, its climb performance was not as good as Osmanthius I, and whilst it could carry unguided munitions, and a rather large amount of them at that - she counted 27 pylons all in all, for a total payload of 13,500lbs - it was not wired to accept targeting pods required for guided bombs, and Liz had said it would be something she worked on for now.

Climbing out, she turned on the RDM radar on the gold Mirage, in order to look for her targets. No doubt they'd be heading for the airbase, to try and remove them from the map; she didn't doubt that because that was what she would do in that situation - and it was what Kirito had suggested they do first and foremost.

Much to her surprise though, the radar pings did not come from the direction of the airfield, but rather straight ahead of her. "What are they attempting to-ohh…"

"Knight Two, Fox One."

"Knight Three, Fox One."

Damn it! She broke the Mirage into a high-G turn, trying to evade the Skyflash and Super 530Fs fired at her, and with some luck - as well as some creative maneuvering - the missiles failed to track, and left her still in the fight.

Still in the fight, and absolutely livid! Et tu, Eydis! This was supposed to be a fair fight, was it not?

"Black Blade Three, where is everybody?!" She shouted into her microphone.

"Preoccupied. The blues slipped in whilst we were handing over the CAP duties, and they're a lot closer than we'd like!"

Oh, how crafty. They had used a time when everyone would be too distracted to strike…

She was as impressed by the strategy as she was fuming at it. It seemed that the blues had gotten their houses in order, and were working together…

Which was troublesome - their plan relied on divide and conquer tactics to be successful.

Wait, what was- schisse! She looked out of the cockpit at the pair of MIG-21s blasting past her into a turning fight; one bright pink, and the other black with a colourful underside - LLENN and Pitohui…

She felt a wicked grin come across her face at the thought - this was going to be an interesting fight… "Have at me!" She shouted into her mic…

/-/

Whilst the 303rd were preoccupied handling the diversionary fighters, the main forces were forming up in the Cross Estuary.

208 had already gone first, their Buccaneers disabling the air-defence frigates around the Chain Islands, and making a break for safety before they had even been detected by the AWACS, which left the 302nd to deal with the radar sites on the islands.

The Jaguar had been rearmed with a quartet of ALARMs under its wings, and a pair of BL755 cluster bombs under the fuselage for good measure whilst it was on the ground, and Jet could feel exactly how much the telegraph poles they called Anti-Radar Missiles under the wings were weighing it down… it felt less like a Jaguar, and more like a Rover in this moment.

Still, Kureha had it worse - her F-105 had been re-equipped for anti-radar duties (not something handled by the single seater she flew usually), and in her own words, the AGM-78s slung under her wings were like carrying miniature aircraft in their own rights… they weighed enough to feel like it, anyway.

Which had left Zeliska very amused - her A-7 carrying a pair of AGM-88 HARMs as if it was nothing, the massive carrying capacity of the Corsair proving to her advantage there. She'd been quite smug, until Jet pointed out the sheer difference in size and mass between the AGM-78 and AGM-88, and she'd quickly conceded there.

"Everyone clear on the plan?"

"Hit them hard, and run like hell." Kureha explained very succinctly.

"Close enough." Jet admitted. "Remember, we're aiming to overwhelm them here."

"Sorry sir, but we can't let you do that…"

"Wondered when someone would finally get the memo…" He thought to himself, looking back over his head to see their top cover finally arriving in the form of a pair of F-16As, one with a dark purple tail, whilst the other was in its normal three-tone grey camouflage… "Ma'am, Itsuki, just so you know, you're late."

"There was a traffic jam…"

Whilst Tiese and Ronye were kept at bay by Fanatio and Itsuki, a fight that was proving to be a lot less one-sided than he'd expected if he was completely honest, they began the process of moving into position to engage the radar sites.

It'd only be a short dash down the coast to their targets, but unlike their reece run the night before, they didn't have the veil of darkness, nor the element of surprise to attack under this time.

In brief, his Jaguar would have the shortest range in this configuration, and thanks to the faffing about that they'd been forced to do in order to start the exercise, he would be bingo fuel at around the second island in the Chain, which meant they had agreed to split the islands into three - he would take the first one, Zeliska the second, and Kureha, her F-105 carrying the most fuel, would hit the furthest island, and with more than a little bit of luck, they would all be able to run once their weapons were away…

And by "a bit of luck", he meant Fanatio and Itsuki keeping the path clear for them…

/-/

Itsuki had to admit, the girls were good.

Unlike themselves, who he had to admit, had some glaring deficiencies in their mutual defence sometimes, and during training, it was not uncommon to have holes large enough for a skilled adversary to break through onto their tail, Tiese and Ronye had developed an almost perfect defensive net.

Offensively, they were not so much to write about, but their defence was making it exceptionally difficult for either himself or Fanatio to get even so much as a lock on them, let alone a clear shot…

Not helping him in that endeavour was his lack of experience in his new F-16A.

He'd swapped out the Crusader III for an F-16 after Operation Diamond, but really, he had not had too much experience even flying the Viper, let alone operating its weapons systems to a degree he would consider himself proficient with…

The girls, on the other hand, knew how to fly their Mirage 2000s by now, and more importantly, how to fly them to counter the somewhat more agile F-16, and were currently showing them both what the delta-winged fighter could do in good hands…

Which was really starting to annoy him now.

Still, he could hope that the frustration of fighting them was indeed keeping the path to the target open for the rest of Solitaire, and that the rest of the 303rd were being kept busy elsewhere…

/-/

Back with the rest of Solitaire, Jet was now heads down in the cockpit of the Jag, readying the complicated NAVWASS system for their attack… "One minute to target, everyone set?"

"Set." Zeliska responded.

"Ready to go." Kureha called back.

As she did though, the RWR burst into life, a sign they were being targeted from either the air or the ground… "Crap! Radar lock!"

"I am sorry to ruin your fun…" He could tell from Alice's voice that she really wasn't. "But I am afraid I cannot let you do that."

Ignoring the fact that Alice sounded more like HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey than HAL itself did in that moment (and that Ronye had already used that line about two minutes before…), he threw the Jag into a tight turn to the right, punching out chaff as he did so.

"Well, I would be disappointed if you died so easily… again." He could just sense the feral smirk on her face at that one, and his radar warning fell quiet briefly. "Let us see who is the better fighter here!"

Uhh, it was her, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that - she had a fighter, he had a strike aircraft. It was a bit like asking who was the better boxer - a professional boxer with the title heavyweight champion of the world… or Reverend and the Makers; yes, they had made a song called that, but they obviously weren't!

"Alice, don't get too ahead of everyone, or…"

"What?!" In a moment of surprise, Alice's RWR came on, and he decided to make his attack run in that moment, whilst the "knight of the air" was too busy keeping herself alive…

"Sorry Ali, but we're giving you a really bad day!" Eydis called out, her Mirage 5NG rushing in from the distance…

Whilst Eydis held Alice back, he decided it was time to make their moves… "Solitaire, attack's on!" He called out, readying the ALARMs mounted to his Jaguar for indirect fire on the nearest radar site. The ALARM was honestly a wonder of engineering in his mind, and whilst the HARMs carried by Zeliska's Corsair were probably better in many areas, the ALARM was arguably more advanced.

The telegraph pole sized missile could fire on a missile site, and then loiter for around 3 minutes to acquire the target, should the radar be switched off, as SAMs were want to do, before plunging into its target at Mach 3 - slower than the HARM, but then, both would easily reduce the target to a dirty great hole in the ground if they scored a direct hit…

He supposed it was better to think of the missiles in different ways - HARM was a sledgehammer, whilst ALARM was a sniper. In other words, you were screwed if either of them hit you, but they did tend to kill you in different ways.

"Solitaire Lead, Magnum! Volley two." He called out, firing the two missiles and immediately feeling the Jag pop up slightly as the missiles fell away from the aircraft and climbed skywards…

"Solitaire Two, Magnum!"

"Solitaire Three, Magnum."

With no clear calls of either Alice or Eydis' demise in their aerial catfight, he took the initiative to really disable their radar sites, and readied an attack run with the BL755s. Diving in, he flipped the switches to arm the cluster bombs, and released all four of the anti-tank weapons onto the radar site, before pulling back into a climb, and making a break for it.

"Solitaire Lead, all aircraft call in."

"Kureha here, targets neutralised."

"Zeliska, targets terminated."

"Itsuki, I am afraid they were able to take me out of the fight - though Commander Fanatio is still fighting them…"

"Understood, we're heading back now, and the catfight is still going on, so…"

"Probably best we avoid that, yes." Zeliska agreed, and they turned to plot a course out to sea to best keep them away from the skirmish above Blundellsands…

/-/

Back at base, there seemed to be a somewhat unusual atmosphere amongst the upper echelons of the chain of command. "Well, that was certainly… entertaining." Shasta admitted with a laugh. "Still, I think that if we wish to still have a training site, we should probably change the parameters of the exercise, don't you think?"

"Sir, you can't be serious! They're deadly to their own side, let alone the enemy!" She exclaimed, almost aghast at the idea of keeping the exercise going. As it stood, the forces had engaged each other in a gigantic fur ball at low altitude, well below any safety nets, and although no one had died, she had no doubts that needed caveating with the word "yet".

"Remember, Lipia, we need pilots like that. Especially if we are to succeed in our plan…" Shasta reminded her, and she looked at Dorothy briefly; the young woman clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation… something that Shasta had picked up on. "So, Captain Elisheva, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

"They are certainly skilled, sir, all of them are." She agreed. "But I have to side with Captain Zancale here, if they were involved, then they would be too unpredictable an element."

She agreed wholeheartedly with her subordinate there, but couldn't help but feel that Dorothy had other motives in removing them from the board - she knew that Dorothy and Eydis had been close in Recta, and should the plan go ahead, that would involve her persuading her former friend of the righteousness of their plan…

Something even she felt unsure of right now, let alone the younger woman; a girl who she knew wasn't entirely convinced of their actions even on a normal day.

She looked over at Dorothy with a reassuring smile, before both of them returned to somewhat neutral expressions.

"Perhaps you are right, Captains. But still, they are likely to be the easiest units to persuade of our cause. After all, all of them have some reason to despise the state of affairs…"

"I suppose so, sir." The way Dorothy said that was telling that she wasn't entirely sold on the idea, and truth be told, nor was she. If this went wrong, then all three of them would be executed, and probably without trial. They were still, for all intents and purposes, foreign soldiers, and that didn't exactly endear them to Command on a normal day.

She dared not imagine what their reaction would be if their plan kicked off…

"Now, we'll set up the next training exercise for tomorrow." Shasta accepted the answer regardless. "I believe the train will be the next most important part of the plan."

"Sir, I do have one concern - what about Bercouli and Fanatio? They know of our intentions, yes?"

"The old man does, yes, and he is onboard with it. She will be harder to win over, though…" Shasta smiled as they spoke.

"Everyone has a limit, Lipia, remember that. All we need is to find her limit…"

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 - Runaways and Reunions

The next day had arrived, and the weather had gone from summer… to absolutely miserable with no warning whatsoever, surprising even the weather service… though if she was honest, the idea of an inaccurate weather service was nothing particularly surprising.

An accurate weather service would be more surprising, Asuna thought to herself as they were called to the "war room" for an advisory.

As it turned out, that advisory was far less advisory than it was made out to be - after yesterday, a conclusion had been arrived at by those in charge:

They were changing the parameters so that they were A: no longer competing, and B: they were having missions set for them, in order to prevent a rerun of yesterday. Initially, there had been some discontent at having the rules changed almost at will, but after being gently reminded of the utter chaos that had been generated over the Bennion Sea yesterday… Okay, yes, Asuna could completely understand where they were coming from there.

Not that it sated Alice, mind you, who was positively livid at the loss of her chance to… actually, she had no idea why Alice was upset. She put that down to Alice being Alice.

"If we are all done with the debate, you do still have a mission to do." Shasta interrupted the bickering between the squadrons, and all fell quiet. "Good, your mission will be to stop a runaway train."

"Huh?!" There was an almost universal sound of confusion amongst the gathered pilots at that one - wasn't that more of a railway job than a fighter pilot job? "Sir, is this a training exercise, or a "oh bother, OR have lost a train" job?" Jet asked, and Asuna found herself wondering what OR was…

"The latter, I'm afraid." Shasta sighed. "Here are all the details we have at our disposal at the moment - I will be updating the AWACS squadrons with more details when we know them. For now though, we need people in the air, and preferably armed for ground attack. We may need to destroy the unit, rather than just monitoring it."

/-/

Leaving the room, there was a quick discussion of who would get the job to handle this one - sending an entire squadron after a single runaway locomotive was probably overkill, but knowing how things could change on a dime up there, it was decided that having at least some of the squadron flying CAP for the train hunters was not a bad idea.

Then it came to who would be hunting the train itself - Jet had already found himself volunteered due to being able to actually read the signalling diagram, something that made him unique in that regards - much to his embarrassment when he admitted he was also a bit of a train spotter, and so knew the technical details of the unit they would be hunting.

They'd agreed to take a second aircraft, both to confirm targets and also observe what was needed, and so, for the first time as a member of the 303rd, Philia found herself in combat - well, simulated, but it counted to her - for more than just a recon mission.

She had had her RF-4E modified to carry a weapons load alongside its camera fit at an earlier point, so she would provide the additional boom if the Jaguar proved incapable of disabling the lightly armoured (read: unarmoured) train; carrying around 5000 lbs of ordnance normally, though she would only take around six Mk82 Snakeeyes for this one.

"Black Blade Eight, passing the ORL beacon." Philia called out as she climbed away. "So, Jet, talk nerdy to me." She joked, and could just sense the deadpan look of mild annoyance at the comment…

An annoyance he didn't show audibly though, as he began to recite the targeting information. "Target is an electric locomotive and Mk.2 carriage consist. Should've been en route as 5M02 to Rutherford High Level, where it would've formed 9M02 to Oured Queens Bay. Train would've been formed of ten coaches, led by a DBSO. Locomotive is on the Rutherford end, so that rules out trying to blow the crap out of the front of it." Jet explained as the Phantom and Jaguar climbed out of Fairhaven and passed over the town of Orrell.

Philia was both impressed by the fact he remembered all of that - she sure as hell didn't - and grinning at the massive display of nerdery here, when it came to trains. Boys and heavy machinery, she supposed… "You so have a miniature train set at home, don't you?"

"I plead the fifth." Yeah, he really did then... "But can we be serious now? That train might be unladen, but it's also got no one at the helm, and it's going onto one of the busiest lines in the country… with trains going 100 miles an hour. That hits something else, and-"

"Yeah, it'll be a mess, got it." She didn't need to imagine the mess of a 200 miles an hour head on collision, and then add 1950s era train build quality to that equation - they would be identifying bodies from teeth in that case, more than likely… "So where are we heading first?"

"Estimated time of arrival at Rutherford was 08:39 for an 09:00 departure. Track signalling and the signal box at Cricket say that the train is moving at 97mph and between signals 109 Lima and 115 Lima on the up fasts."

Philia found herself blinking rapidly at the info dump - yeah, there was a reason he was handling this stuff, she thought to herself, because she understood none of that. "And in human?"

"Between Cricket and Long Hillford." He summarised. "Turn to heading 150, and we'll intercept it past Lemster."

"Roger that, turning to 150. How long have we got till we get there?"

"About 25 minutes."

"You guys got all that?" She asked Kirito, Argo and Asuna, who would be trailing behind them flying top cover. "150 and head for Lemster."

"I'm amazed ya understood any o' that, Phi-chan…" Argo laughed.

"So am I…" Jet agreed. "I only barely understood it, and I said it."

"Filling us with a great sense of confidence there, oh wise pathfinder of ours…" She replied sarcastically.

"I can let you navigate if you want…" She could sense the smirk on his face there.

"Err, nah, you're alright thanks." She backpedalled quickly enough to win the Tour De France in reverse there… This was one time where she was quite glad to not be navigating for once. Rail maps were confusing, and much more so when you were having to try and follow them from the air…

/-/

Those twenty-five minutes felt surprisingly long winded when you were having to constantly update the NAVWASS, Jet thought to himself (and considered just ripping the stupid thing out when they got back, and replacing it with something that didn't just drift out of alignment because a gnat hovered within a nautical mile of it… ), and even then, he'd begun to rely on visual navigation rather than the unreliable mix of gyros and valves that made up the system…

As a result, he'd developed a different plan for them…

"Watchdog, this is Solitaire, confirm our position over Cricket" He called out. Knowing there was a town below them, he had them circle over the town until they could confirm a visual on the railway, and then chase after the train.

"Solitaire, this is Watchdog. Confirming your position, mission is a go."

"Gotcha." He called as he spotted the tracks heading to the south of the town - Cricket was a major railway junction where a pair of mainlines converged - the Great Central, and the Western Coastway; the latter of which being their flight path for today. "Eight, follow me."

"We're with you." Philia called back as the Jaguar and Phantom descended through two thousand feet to around five hundred feet above the railway, and began their pursuit.

"Watchdog to Solitaire, Black Blades, traffic report from the signalling centre - all trains between Cricket and Kings Magna have been diverted away from the mainline. Only train in the block should be the runaway."

"Understood sir, we're in pursuit now." Silica, a young recruit who usually helped out Liz in the hangar had been roped in to fly as Philia's backseater for this, and he couldn't help but feel like this was setting up some expectations for her of missions they would likely never end up flying…

"Watchdog to Black Blades, you have bogeys on heading 080. Presume hostile, though weapons safe."

"Understood Watchdog, we're movin' to intercept." Argo called out, and he saw the F-14 and F-15 break away in the distance behind them.

"Okay, if they're the only train in the block, then I've got an idea." He thought aloud to himself. "Solitaire to Watchdog, have the OR guys tried cutting the power to the knitting?"

"Uhh… we'll ask?" The very confused controller told them, though he didn't seem too sure what he was even asking…

"In simple terms?"

"It's an electric loco. I was asking if they've tried turning off the power to the overhead wires."

"Watchdog here - they already have. Train is a Class 73 locomotive - whatever that means."

What it meant was that someone had cocked up on the development staff, as whilst the Class 73 was a bi-mode locomotive, it drew its electrical power from 750V DC third rail, not the 25Kv AC overhead lines above the locomotive…

Either way, it meant this was going to be a lot more difficult than he'd hoped it might be.

"It's got a diesel engine as well as the electric motors." He told them, ignoring the rather confused Class 73 - this was an aviation game after all, not Train Sim World. "Which makes it a lot harder for us to deal with."

"Umm, sirs, something occurs to me? Is the switch between the two modes automatic?" Silica asked, and it dawned on him that, no, it wasn't… and if the train was continuing on in diesel mode…

Oh shit.

There was someone on that train, and they didn't want to be stopped!

"No, no it's not, which means there's someone aboard the train that's keeping it going…"

"Watchdog to all aircraft, we've confirmed the train stopped just after it was reported runaway - only briefly though, so we think they picked someone, or something up…"

"I'm guessing this isn't a runaway train anymore then…" Philia sighed. "Why are we always cursed with the interesting jobs…"

/-/

Argo couldn't help but think that something in this whole situation just felt… off.

The runaway train was automatically unusual, and especially given the call they had just received that said train had stopped to pick someone up too, as well as the fact that the train had swapped power source as it supposedly ran away…

She'd have thought this was too unusual of a circumstance if it weren't for- "Bogeys off our nose, Kii-bou. Pair of F-5s." She reported, looking at the radar in front of her.

Aggressors, no doubt; meant to simulate a realistic threat to them, and she followed the normal procedures, acquiring a target lock with the AIM-54s in order to really make them worry…

"Black Blades, aircraft are not aggressors. We have no records on them…"

Okay, that certainly met the definition of unusual, Argo thought to herself. If they weren't aggressors, who the hell were they?! "Unknown aircraft, this is Black Blade Lead of the Osean Air Force. Identify yourselves, or you will be fired upon."

"Osean Air Force pilots, we are Blackguard operators. We are conducting operations against Yutari dissidents on behalf of our employer, and have no qualms with you."

Like hell they didn't! They were attacking allied forces inside Osea itself, an extremely brave (in the sarcastic sense) mission in itself, let alone telling them to get lost…

"Watchdog, you heard that, yes?" Asuna asked.

"Understood. Just waiting on orders now." The operator told them.

"Any day now…" Argo whistled to herself as they closed in. "Kii-bou…"

Kirito nodded from upfront. "Yeah, lock them up. Don't fire till we're cleared though."

"No problem, I wanna give these clowns a really bad day already…"

"Command says they've got no knowledge of their operations." The operator informed them. "Cleared to fire on them if they don't turn tails."

"Good." Kirito answered, switching the safeties off their weapons. "Blackguard aircraft, turn to heading 050 and land immediately. This will be your only warning. Turn and land immediately, or you will be fired on."

Argo waited about ten seconds, checking to see if the pair of Tigers banked away to the designated heading. No dice, which meant it was game on for them…

"Go to hell, you stupid runts!" One of the pilots shouted, and at that moment, he had sealed their fates with a nice wax seal.

"Now those are fighting words…" Kirito gave a sly grin in the mirror. "Argo, you good?"

"Ya haft'a ask?" She returned the grin, and released a Phoenix from the underside - the missile shaking the aircraft as it dropped away from the belly and flew skywards… "Black Blade One, Fox Three."

In the distance, about ten seconds later, she saw an explosion, and watched as the first F-5 disappeared off their scopes. "Boom, splash one F-5."

"Asuna, Fox One." A Sparrow dropped away from the underside of Asuna's F-15, and screamed forward, detonating next to the second F-5, and crippling it; black smoke and fluids poured out of the lightweight fighter as it descended. "He's damaged, should I press the attack?"

"Black Blade Two, is he still combat capable?"

"Doubt it, Watchdog, he's leakin' like a colander, and we can see the smoke trail miles back…"

"Negative then." The operator told them. "Hopefully they learned their lesson though."

"Who the heck were they though?"

"Watchguard - they're a mercenary company that got hired by a few more… savvy countries." Philia explained. "We were tracking their movements before Adamas, but with everything that went on…"

"Yeah, they were able to hide in the chaos, weren't they?"

"Pretty much. Though it's odd for them coming from that direction, Belka aren't exactly in the mercenary game normally… too dishonourable in their eyes usually." Argo wasn't sure she'd have ever called the Belkans honourable - attacking on a day when everyone would be hungover certainly wasn't that in her eyes, but Phi-chan was right about the honour bound culture that hungover Belka like a sword of a knight they so idolised…

It seeped into their entire culture, and mercenaries were viewed as the lowest of the low in combat - both in the real world, and in ACES; she only had to ask LLENN and Pitohui on that one to know that they weren't exactly welcomed with open arms in most places…

"Still, who the hell are the Yutaris?" Jet asked an understandable question - she only knew the name in passing, and not in any real detail other than they were a part of Leasath that formed the Osea-Leasath border, and were sitting on an extremely valuable source of minerals and rare earth materials, if speculation was to be believed…

"Officially, they're the northern province of Leasath."

"It isn't that simple, is it?" Young Silica asked, having picked up on the obvious double meaning of the word "officially".

"Nope, because that's only what the Leasathis claim. Everyone else either shrugs their shoulders, or ignores that they declared themselves independent."

"Oh good, that doesn't sound like a ticking time bomb at all…" Jet sighed, and she couldn't help but agree - that was almost certainly where they were heading next, once Red Rider was over…

/-/

"Okay, I have a visual on the train." Jet called out as he descended as low as he dared to do in the Jaguar.

Any lower, and he'd be picking bits of high tension overhead lines from his intakes later…

"Confirmed, that's the runaway train." Silica confirmed from the backseat of the Phantom, using a pair of binoculars - a rather low tech solution to a high tech problem… but still a clever one, nonetheless. "We'll have about five minutes before it's out of the signalling block according to the GCI."

"Watchdog, confirm that we have clearance to stop the train?"

"Confirmed. Try to avoid any civilian casualties though, so no engagements near any stations."

"Let's see if this works then." He led the reticle in his gunsight, aiming just ahead of the 100 mile an hour train, and fired a short burst of 30mm from his DEFA cannons. The shells hit the tracks, sending sparks flying everywhere, but not derailing the train immediately… though he could definitely tell some of the bogies on the train had derailed as it began to slow down. "Yeah, that's working."

"Bridge incoming." Philia called out, and he yanked the stick back into his crotch, pulling the Jaguar skyward before he kinetically derailed the train by crashing into it, instead of using his guns…

As he began to level out after the near bridge strike, he spotted the train coming out the other side of the portal… pouring out smoke and sparks.

"Yup, he's probably not going to be-"

"Someone's just jumped out of the train!"

"Can't say I blame them like that…" He admitted under his breath, before realising that there was now an ablaze train careening down the line, completely uncontrolled, and with the commuter belt stations beginning in about five miles… "I'm making a second run, so if I can derail it fully before it hits the station at Shepdreth."

"Understood, Solitaire. We're getting the emergency services on the line now." He thought about making a joke about keeping them off the line, else they'd be hit by the derailed train, but thought better of it given the circumstances.

Swinging the Jaguar around, he readied for a second gun run - lead pulled, reticle on target, trigger pulled…

And nothing at all happened.

"Of all the times for the guns to jam! Now!?" He grumbled, before thinking of another way to fully derail the train. From head on, trains were designed to be somewhat aerodynamic (though his definition of the term, and British Rail's were evidently completely different, based on the slab fronted nature of most of their designs), but from the sides?

They were not at all aerodynamic, and in fact, functioned more as an airbrake, given the massive surface area available on the side. Continuing his descent, he aimed for the side of the train, and closed the throttles momentarily - he'd have a split second to open the taps, accelerate out of danger, and allow the turbulent air behind him to slam into the train… and if he got any part of that wrong?

It wouldn't be the air slamming into the train, it'd be him instead…

Which was probably the best motivation to get this right, he thought to himself as the Jaguar dropped into position, and he opened the throttles of the twin Adours, the Jaguar rocking as it was caught in its own wake this close to the ground and it continued to sink, rather than climb…

"Oh fu-" By nothing short of a miracle, the twin Adours picked that exact moment to kick in fully, the afterburners propelling the attacker back into a climb, and kicking up enough dirt, dust and gravel that he could no longer see the train behind him… "Uhh…"

"It crashed! The train has derailed and…" He didn't catch the last words Silica said as an explosion rocked everything around him, tossing the Jaguar inverted as he fought for control, and pelting it with sand, gravel and shrapnel from the train….

He wondered what it said about him that his first thought at that moment was "Oh not again!".

"Solitaire, come in!"

"Still here, Watchdog… barely." He admitted as he righted the Jaguar and levelled out at 1000 feet, catching his breath as he released his hands from the stick to remove his mask and visor… "What the hell was that?"

"We're not sure, but it's suspicious as hell." The operator told them. "We're assuming the train was hijacked, rather than a runaway, and that explosion pretty much sold us on that one."

"Yeah, I'd call that suspicious too - those locos are diesel, so it shouldn't have blown up like that!" And by that, he meant like a small atom bomb had gone off behind him. He was definitely going to be picking bits of Class 73 and Mk2 carriages out of his Jag when they got back, wasn't he?

"Upside, that footage was spectacular."

"You were filming all of that?" He asked nervously.

"Nope, but I did have Silica point a video camera at you as you made that pass." He could hear her grinning at that, and in the background, he could hear Argo tittering at his misfortune.

"Hey, Sil-chan, how much d'ya want for that footage? There's gotta be a good action scene in that, somewhere!" Argo asked, and had they not been thirty odd miles apart, he would likely have flipped her off…

"Umm, it's just for my record, that's all." Silica, evidently not used to dealing with the notorious rat that was Argo, answered nervously.

"Argo, stop messing about with her." Asuna, ever the voice of sanity, shut down that conversation as soon as she could, and he returned to scanning his plane to ensure he wasn't about to fall out of the sky, explode, or do both.

All readings broadly normal other than the- "Work, you stupid piece of-!" NAVWASS.

Yeah, he was beating it to within an inch of his life with a sledgehammer when they landed, and Liz had finished chewing him out for being on the receiving end of an explosion like that…

/-/

Returning to base, Philia had immediately gone into investigative mode, and with her, she'd dragged Argo and Silica.

First things first, working out who had hired Blackguard - it was almost certainly someone in Osea or Leasath, but that didn't narrow that down too much. Mercenary companies were something she didn't really have much experience in dealing with, even as a reconnaissance specialist - they weren't really a thing in Osea most of the time, though a few did exist, but they mostly handled base security and catering, and small things like that.

Not bombing runs on other nations usually.

The thing was that every answer she came up with had more questions attached to them. One of the first suspects in her mind was the former head of the Leasathi state, a dictator who had fled from the country when a revolution had taken hold in 1959, but some further digging had pretty much guaranteed that he was innocent this time around…

He'd died a few weeks ago; leaving just his daughters, who lived in Osea, and were now part of the Osean military.

So unless they had a really vengeful poltergeist trying to start a war, it was a good shout that he was probably innocent on this one - not on the many, many other atrocities he'd committed, but this one he was.

The problem she'd then encountered was actually getting information on the Leasathis - even her reliable sources had told her that looking into that would be dangerous, and even then, there was no guarantee that the information she'd asked for existed anyway.

Which was impressive, given she'd been looking for the people in charge - though according to one of her sources, that changed on a weekly basis anyway, so she could guess just how unstable things were out there.

So, with that as a dead end, unless she fancied trying to find a source inside a very unfriendly dictatorship, she moved onto the Osean side of the coin, and found even more issues, namely that everything was routed through every kind of shell company imaginable…

"Great, so we still have no idea who tried to kill us." She groaned to herself as she rubbed her temple.

The train had been a rather easier task to do some digging though - the person who'd jumped out had been arrested, and was a Leasathi immigrant - at least according to the paperwork she had been sent.

She wasn't sure why, but the paperwork just looked off to her; almost like someone had overwritten something else entirely, but hadn't done quite as good of a job as they perhaps thought they had.

"Wait, what the-" She looked over a transcript that had been sent to her, coming from the interrogation of one of the Blackguard pilots who'd survived his F-5 being turned into confetti… "Operation Clockface? What's that?"

She didn't like not knowing things - the curse of a reconnaissance pilot, she supposed - and so, she kept digging…

/-/

"You wanted to see us, Sir-Ma'am, even?" The look on Jet's face was one of mild frustration at the slip of the tongue, and he didn't blame him for the slip up - the voice in his head was constantly going "Don't say sir, don't say sir, don't say sir…" too.

"I heard about your heroics out there, captain…" Fanatio smirked, and now he was worried. Being chewed out for recklessness was one thing, but being teased for it was another entirely! "As did someone else, who is… well, let's just say, her exact words were that she would be having words with you."

He gulped, knowing exactly what that meant, and feeling a twang of sympathy for his fellow captain at the thought of an angry, and clingy Eydis… "But that isn't why you're here." Fanatio carried on. "I had an application to join the 303rd, and I believe you in particular will be interested in the applicant, Kirito."

Huh? He wasn't exactly a people's person, so why would he be interested in the new person? That wasn't to say he didn't like new people around, but handling recruitment wasn't something he'd ever really been involved in - if anyone handled that, it was Asuna, and it was notable she wasn't here by that standard…

So who was this new person, he wondered?

Fanatio handed him the manilla envelope containing their file, and for a few moments, he glanced over the picture of a blonde girl with a long ponytail and green eyes, before looking at the details of them - currently with the 85th Air Defence Squadron, based out of Bana, no major operations under her belt, although she was listed as an exceptional pilot with an excellent work ethic, and who had requested transfer to their squadron no less than four times already, only to be turned down by the stupid rules that had been implemented when the 1st Eagle Wing had been established…

Then he read the name, and nearly had a heart attack: Suguha Kirigaya.

"The hell is she doing here?!" He exclaimed, half in shock and the other half in terror. How the hell had he never noticed Sugu was here?!

"I think that'll be one to ask her when she arrives tomorrow…" Fanatio told them. "Captains, I trust that you two can show her the ropes of how we operate here in the Eagles?"

"She's in good hands, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

"I think I've seen expecting parents less shocked than you right now…" Jet joked, breaking the tension in the air after Fanatio had left them to their own devices. "You two close or…"

"It's complicated." He admitted, and Jet gave him an understanding nod.

"Ahh, I get you." He patted him on the shoulder. "One complicated sibling relationship to another, sort it out else it'll eat you up. Don't ask me how I know." Jet looked away with a morose look on his face, and something told him he was speaking from experience there…

"I've spent the past five years or so pushing her away, and… I kind of thought she hated me." He admitted. "I wouldn't blame her if she did - I would."

"Story of my life, mate." Jet acknowledged. "Been there, done that, got the scars."

"I don't get why she'd risk her life like this though. Suguha's always been, well, headstrong, but I always thought she was more sensible than this!"

"Family do weird things occasionally, what can I say?" Jet threw his arms up in defeat, now very much talking from experience, he sensed. "But look at it this way. If she's here, and actively trying to get transferred to see you, it means she doesn't hate you, right?"

He thought about it for a moment, and ignoring the anger at her for doing something so utterly reckless and headstrong as logging into a death game voluntarily to find him, he felt a sense of pride at how his little sister had developed into a brilliant pilot in her own right.

Maybe she wasn't an ace like them, but they'd been thrown into the deep end and told to swim or sink - they hadn't had much choice but to learn to overcome the odds.

If they'd been thrown in though, Suguha hadn't, so much as she'd jumped in of her own volition, and learned to swim (he briefly wondered if that wasn't just metaphorical - she'd never learned to swim when they were younger, and maybe she'd overcome both sets of odds there…)

"Uhh, earth to Kirito… calling Major Tom? Anyone in there…" Jet asked, waving his hand in front of his face.

"Sorry, I was thinking about what you'd said. I'm proud of her, but at the same time… I'm not happy about this, at all." Kirito admitted, before realising they weren't alone anymore; Philia stood at the door, a confused look on her face at what he was saying…

"Not even gonna ask what he's on about there, but you might want to see this, both of you." Philia told them, placing a piece of paper on the table in front of them. "Came across this whilst looking for whoever hired our would be attackers…"

The piece of paper looked to be a transcript of some kind, and Kirito took care to read everything in there, trying to work out what it related to, before realising exactly what it was:

A transcript of a meeting with the Chief Officer of Blackguard Military Services, discussing operations in Yuta - operations that he was sure he should have read about by now - and the possibility that it could lead to an escalation between Osea and Leasath, should they attack from either direction.

The most likely scenario, they agreed, was an escalation between the Leasathi security forces, and Yutari troops in the breakaway state, leading to the intervention of Osean forces, on the side of the Yutaris, as a way to remove the Leasathi dictatorship from the equation; an aim Osea had had since the Revolution around 10 years prior…

"Crap." Jet summed it up pretty well with a sigh. "How'd you get this though? Conspiracies aren't usually stupid enough to incriminate themselves… well, not unless it's signed by a , anyway."

"Take a look who's name is on there." Philia pointed at one of the margins - and they both looked at it, before going wide eyed and looking at each other with a sense of disconcertion.

"Shasta." They both said, almost in sync. "But how's he still here if you got that?"

"Dated June 14th, 1964. Part of a plot called Operation Clockface to overthrow the government, and install a military government to prevent a coup."

"Launch a coup… to prevent a coup." Jet asked with a blank look on his face. "Absolutely flawless logic there." He answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he did. "But still, he should be rotting in prison, not at a training centre, right?"

"Done his time 'parently." Argo shrugged, having joined them at some point. "But knowin' what Blackguard were up t' back then? Don't fill me wit' much confidence that they ain't up to their necks in it again…"

"Great, so what do we do then?"

"Keep an eye out for anything odd - more so than usual, anyway - and we'll try to build our own picture of what's going on." Philia sighed, frustration clear in her voice there. "Anyway, you two were discussing something before we got here?"

"Oh, just a new recruit joining you guys." Jet told them, adding in as little detail as possible, thankfully for him. "She should be arriving tomorrow, so we'll be showing her the ropes."

Argo gave a teasing look to him. "Tut tut, what will Aa-chan say? Kii-bou showing another girl the ropes…" She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, not knowing how much that joke was hurting him physically…

He did his best not to physically hurl at that, but he was sure Argo could see that he was going green just thinking about it, and would probably have more questions to ask about that reaction than just an embarrassed one… "Sister…" He mumbled under his breath.

"Eh?"

"The new girl's his sister." Jet clarified whilst he held his dinner down.

Now it was Argo's turn to go green at her own insinuation. "The new girl… is Kii-bou's sister… and I just suggested he was going to tie her up and- 'scuse me." Argo scurried off outside, and after a brief moment, he heard a scream somewhere between horrified and mortified by what she'd just said coming from outside, before she came back inside...

"Better?" Philia asked with a smirk.

"Better." Argo agreed. "Sorry 'bout that, Kii-bou, I, uhh… yeah, let's never speak o' that one again, yeah?"

He nodded, happy to never, ever think of that thought again for as long as he lived. "Din't know ya had a sister though? 'Least, ya never mention her…"

"It's… uhh, complicated." He explained without explaining. "She isn't my sister. Not really, she's my cousin, but we were raised together, so…"

Rather than teasing him though, Argo gave him a sympathetic smile - an unusually kind look on her face. "Ah, I get'cha. So, when's she arrivin'?"

"Tomorrow." He told them. "So we'll be sitting out of ops tomorrow. "

"I think ya'd be out for a few days anyway, knight-boy…" Argo joked. "Ya seen what you bought back from the train… honestly, reckon we could rebuild the train from it, ya know!"

"Yeah…" Jet looked away awkwardly, and pretended that he wasn't going to be brutalised by Liz for the damage he'd caused to his Jaguar.

Damage that had included coming back with half a transformer from the locomotive lodged in the air brakes of his plane…

That was very much a Jet problem in his eyes, not a problem for him. His problem was going to be explaining that his little sister was joining them… and why she currently looked nothing like… well, him.

Regardless, tomorrow was going to be… an exhausting day, he reckoned.

/-/

The weather had again changed from fog and damp, to a sunny day, and Kirito found himself seriously wondering whether the rendering engine was a little bit broken in this game, after months without maintenance, because that was the only explanation he had for the bizarre weather they found themselves in…

Or more importantly, he found himself in.

Where the bloody hell was Jet, he thought to himself, as he waited impatiently for not only his sister's arrival, but his colleague's too!

"I'm here, I'm here… something, uhh, came up…" He really hoped that wasn't a euphemism for his and Eydis' sex life there, but based on the fact he seemed completely bewildered still, he reckoned it wasn't.

"Like what?"

"Well, you know we were chasing the train yesterday? Well, one of the stations we should have passed had closed, but was still there… apparently."

"You got sidetracked focussing on a closed station." He asked with a blank look. He thought he could be bad sometimes, but… actually yeah, he probably was that bad too.

"Kind of, but I realised it wasn't there."

"Out of date map?" He thought of the most likely explanation.

"Well, apparently OR didn't know it wasn't there anymore either. That's why I'm late - I got called into a meeting with a bloke from the railway, asking for more details." Jet explained, wiping the sweat from his brow as he did. "Yeah, turns out someone stole it."

"Someone stole… a train station? How!?" He asked, an incredulous tone to his voice, and Jet simply shrugged.

"That's for them to answer, not me. Still, I doubt they just walked off with it - don't think it fits in any kind of pocket, y'know? Except maybe a pocket dimension, I guess…"

"This world never ceases to amaze me…" He said with an amused look on his face, before looking out into the distance for any approaching aircraft, and checking with a pair of binoculars. No signs of anything, other than Alice and Eugeo checking in as they reached the rendezvous with Leafa, as Suguha called herself now.

It had been a slightly concerning realisation for him that he could, and without a second glance, have actually walked straight past his own sibling without even realising they were there, and worse still… that he might actually have done so at Bana, when they were there during Operation Diamond!

That thing that told him he hadn't done that though was very simply the type of person Sugu was - she would have immediately made herself known if she'd realised who'd walked past her, and she hadn't done that.

"Captains, looks like they've met up. ETA back at Bana is 8 minutes."

"Understood Tower." Jet responded. "Eight minutes till they get back, looks like we'd better get our game faces on."

/-/

Eight minutes was a surprisingly long time for a person prone to overthinking things, Kirito had soon realised.

Even with reassurance from Jet and Asuna - who'd sent him a good luck message, as she was controlling the operations for today - it hadn't helped all that much, until he spotted a trio of aircraft in the distance:

The two Mirage 4000s of Alice and Eugeo, and a Mirage F1 in standard Osean camouflage, but with a bright green fin flash…

Yeah, that was definitely her.

He had to admit, it was quite a sight to see the three Mirages landing, the two 4000s glistening in the sunlight and as they taxied to the hard stands. "Well then, let's go welcome our new guest, shall we?"

After a brief walk to the stands, Kirito found himself face to face with someone who, by looks alone, should've been a complete stranger… even though he knew it was his sister, and for the first time in the entire campaign, he found himself completely overwhelmed by everything. "S-sugu?"

The smile on her face faded slightly, becoming a look of shock, before returning. "It is you! I hoped it was, but…"

"Yeah, it's me." He told her, standing back a little out of awkwardness. It had been nearly a year since he'd last seen her, and back then, she'd been a kid.

If anyone still called her a kid now though, he'd have assumed they needed glasses… or had a very warped definition of the term! She wasn't much shorter than he was, and she had grown up a lot in that year too - if anything, he found it hard to believe he was the older sibling now…

"I didn't recognise you, you know…"

"Heh, yeah… I didn't think that one through, did I?" Leafa ran a hand through her ponytail in a brief moment of awkwardness.

A moment that lingered, as the two siblings looked away from each other, trying to think of the next words extremely carefully - it had been years since they had really spent time together, and other than her kendo, he honestly didn't know much else about his own little sister… how bad at being a sibling was he?

That awkwardness was eventually broken by the frustration of another blonde… Alice. "Oh for the love of god, just make up, will you?" She told them, running her hands against the bridge of her nose.

There was a look of mortification on Eugeo's face at her outburst, whilst Jet was silently laughing to himself, meaning neither of them were going to be much help here… "Sugu-"

"Mom told me." Wait, mom had told her what, he thought for a split-second, before it dawned on him exactly what she'd been told. "Just before everything. I never knew how to say it, but…"

"You know I'm not your brother then, I'm your cousin-"

"Give it a rest, Kazuto. We grew up together, we did kendo together all those years ago, and I never knew life without you there. Maybe we aren't brother and sister like that, but I still think of you as my brother."

He felt a tear come to his eye at that - all those years of hiding away, pushing his mom and Sugu away, and it really had been for nothing. It had been the anger of a small child lashing out and trying to escape into a world where he could be more than he thought he was…

He'd gotten exactly what he wished for in ACES… and he absolutely hated it sometimes. Sure, the flying was amazing, but he just wanted a peaceful life sometimes, not to spend an eternity fighting for his life…

Except he'd realised something with Sugu's words - family was who you spent time with, people you couldn't imagine your life without… and that meant the 303rd especially.

"Umm, I think we should be going, don't you, Alice?"

He hadn't failed to notice the tear in Alice's eye at the reunion, and the re-forging of their relationship as siblings… "I do enjoy a happy ending…"

"So… they're in our squadron, yeah?" Leafa asked as they walked across the apron.

"Alice and Eugeo. They're probably the people I'd call my best friends-"

"You made friends!" Okay, now he could believe he was the older sibling again.

"I wasn't that bad… was I?" Leafa didn't actually answer other than an enthusiastic nod of her head, enough so that her ponytail was physically whipping the unfortunate Jet. "Oh come on, Sugu, I had friends at school!"

"Yeah… but when was the last time you hung out with them outside of school?"

He went to respond, but realised that she was entirely right - he couldn't even remember one occasion that he actually had hung around with them. Wow, he really was on course to become a shut-in before, wasn't he?...

"I hate that you're right about that." He said quietly, to an amused grin on her face. "Can we please get back to the business at hand? Jet, anything to add-"

He went to respond, before Kirito realised exactly what was about to happen. "-that has to do with this briefing, please?"

He rolled his eyes, and made a zipping gesture across his mouth. "Fine, briefing talk. Leafa, welcome to Canaveral - and yes, I know we aren't at Canaveral right now, shut it Kirito - and welcome to the madhouse. Trust me, you'll learn to just accept that things happen to us, regardless of whether we want them to or not…"

"That sounds a bit ominous, doesn't it?" Leafa raised an eyebrow at that.

"He's a bit fed up that he got called in over a missing train station." He explained to his sister, who made a humming noise as if she immediately understood exactly what he'd said…

Before then making a confused noise when the actual words processed in her mind. "Missing… train station? How do you lose a train station!?"

"Someone stole it."

"I guess that- did you just say someone stole a train station!?" Leafa asked in complete bewilderment. "You weren't joking about things just happening, were you?"

"Nope. Unfortunately not, we kind of get-"

Before Jet could finish his sentence, the briefing alarm went off - a call to all aircrew who were needed for the day's exercise to head to the briefing room; only this time, the alarm sounded slightly different, and both captains gave each other a concerned look.

"All aircrews - report to the briefing room. Exercise suspended - Code Black."

"Guess you're in for a trial by fire, Sugu…" He tapped his sister on the shoulder as they started sprinting towards the briefing room…

"Lucky me…" She smiled, a grin that he very much recognised on her face - even if it was a stranger's face, essentially.

/-/

"Good, all of you are here." Unusually, the briefing wasn't being held by Shasta, but rather by Lipia, who seemed less than impressed at having to do so. "We can get going. As of 20 minutes ago, we received reports that Aurelia and Leasath are at war."

"What's that got to do with us?" One pilot asked.

"In short, we share a land border with Leasath, and the breakaway state of Yutar." Lipia explained. "It is very likely that we will be called to move in order to assist the Yutaris, should actions be sanctioned, and so, we will be moving to a war footing for your training as of this moment. In addition, we will now be arming you for your missions, as the Security Council have agreed on the implementation of a No-Fly Zone across the Osea-Leasath border, in order to deter any hostile actions against Yutar."

Kirito sighed, knowing that those words would be the ones that triggered an update in their mission objectives, and as if the universe had a sense of humour, it did exactly that in that moment…

Mission Update:
Southern Watch - protect the airspace of the southern border, and the breakaway state of Yutar.

There went any chance of a quiet life, he guessed…

Chapter Text

Chapter 29 - Murder or Mistake?

Since the calling off of the Red Rider exercise, the missions that the 1st Eagles had been required to fly had increasingly pointed to the state of the relations between Osea and Leasath, Sinon had come to realise.

That state being "on the verge of war" thanks to the no-fly zone they now found themselves enforcing.

Today though, it felt as if the line between that state and a declaration of war was so thin that it could no longer be seen by the human eye anymore, which was why she found herself in the interrogation room, her throat scratching every time she breathed with the dryness in it, and an almost dizziness present if she so much as moved her head…

It had started earlier that morning…

/-/

Sinon found herself with her head down in the cockpit, working the awkward radar systems of the Crossbow, and really wishing she flew with a RIO right now - an extra pair of hands to handle the radar whilst she flew the plane would be a godsend in situations like this!

GCI had reported a pair of bogeys entering the no-fly zone from the southwest, and that she would be the most likely to arrive on station first; the WF-108 being one of the fastest aircraft in inventory anywhere in the world at the time, and so, she had asked for vectors towards the bogeys, and begun a descent to confirm they were actually hostile.

For all she knew, it could be a rerun of two days prior when a pair of Cessna pilots had stumbled into the no-fly zone, and Asuna had been forced to escort them to safety. She really hadn't been happy at them for that one, and even less happy at the GCI for mistaking a pair of Cessnas at 150 knots for F-4 Phantoms…

Still, in times like this, it was better to be safe rather than sorry, she knew that much.

"Flash Two, traffic is a Leasathi Boeing 727 at twelve o'clock, do you have a visual on them?"

Traffic? Wasn't this supposed to be a no-fly zone, not a "some-fly" zone? She scanned around outside her cockpit for the Boeing trijet that was supposed to be ahead of her, but no matter where she looked, there were no signs of the aircraft.

No contrails, no lights… just a blue sky and some clouds.

"Negative, Flash Two. What are they even doing here in the first place?!"

"The flight was an emergency transfer, ma'am. We couldn't refuse them." She bit her tongue about the difference between couldn't, and wouldn't, but decided to keep it civil for the time being - that time being until she landed, when she would be having words with whoever was in charge of civilian traffic about reckless endangerment of civilians… "Hold on, traffic is now at six o'clock. Looks like they've passed you by. Continue to the bandits, Flash. Twilight is taking off to join you, ETA is two minutes."

Sinon tutted to herself with a scowl on her face - the GCI in this game was absolutely useless sometimes! Still, her attention returned to the two bogeys off her wing at 70 miles. No IFF returns, though that was nowhere near enough to confirm a hostile aircraft; some of their planes had poor IFF equipment that was often out of use too, such as Klein's F-8, where the equipment was 1950s era, and so suffered from major reliability issues.

"Yuuki to Sinon, I've got a visual on them. Pair of Mirages snooping around - looks like a reece flight."

"Control to Twilight, Flash, instructions are to engage the aircraft and destroy them."

"Understood, I'm engaging!" Yuuki called out.

"Flash confirms." Sinon worked to get a radar lock for the AIM-47s in her weapons bay, and beneath her, the large missile dropped away from the weapons bay, and soared straight ahead of her. "Sinon, Fox Three."

"More contacts, looks like they've got support this time - a Boeing 747 tanker." GCI called out, and Sinon craned her neck around to see if she could spot the tanker in the distance. No such luck, though she confirmed the impact of her AIM-47 in the distance, a large explosion lighting up the early morning sky…

"Splash one, Flash Two."

"Uhh, Sinon, I can still see both of them?" Yuuki said, somewhat confused by the splash call, something that confused Sinon in the process…

She had fired the missile, with a radar lock, at a target at her twelve o'clock and it had hit something in that general direction. So what had she… oh no. "Control, confirm the position of that 727!"

The call that she dreaded came back. "Leasathi 114 is off radar."

"What was the last position of that flight?" Yuuki asked, no doubt having realised something was horribly wrong at the same time.

"Heading 080, should've been on your six o'clock, Flash Two." The controller confirmed, as Sinon felt her hands physically shaking on the stick. She hadn't just shot down an airliner, had she? No, it couldn't have been that! It was nowhere near where the GCI was telling her it was, and yet… it had disappeared at the same time as her missile had hit.

Oh god, she was going to be sick even thinking about it…

No matter how she thought of it, she couldn't think of a way it could've been her missile that killed the airliner, but at the same time, the coincidence required for it to be anything else was almost unthinkable…

She liked to think she was a logical person, and to a logical person, the shot she had supposedly made was impossible - it was physically impossible for her AIM-47 to have almost reversed direction in flight to hit a target that should've been behind her, but yet, that was one of the two options.

The other was that the GCI had made a major error and that Flight 114 hadn't passed underneath her, but rather was still on her twelve o'clock when she fired…

Either had the same outcome - she had just destroyed an airliner, and killed who knew how many people.

It was that which finally broke her.

/-/

Unsurprisingly, the military police were waiting on the ground for both herself and Yuuki, and despite the angry protests of almost everyone gathered - even members of other squadrons, people who she had never met, much less knew the names of - she found herself taken into custody…

She supposed she deserved it, she was a murderer after all - she could pretend the first one had been in self defence, and she had done so, telling herself that anyone else would've done that to defend her family in that situation… even if the image of the light draining out of the dead robber's eyes would never truly fade, but this time?

She had failed to confirm the position of the airliner, either visually or with GCI, and she had fired regardless - either it would be counted as gross negligence or outright murder, and she wasn't sure which she thought was worse now.

Even locked up though, it hadn't taken long before a truly livid Asuna had essentially burst through the doors, reading the riot act to the military police over their actions, and putting what she could only describe as the fear of god into them, before telling them that they were to be released immediately, or else they would be the ones to find themselves in a dingy cell…

They complied, and soon enough, both herself and Yuuki found themselves back in the daylight.

"The Commander's agreed to set up an investigation into what's happened, and the MPs shouldn't be bothering you again." Asuna told her.

"Umm, Asuna, how exactly did you get us out of there?"

"I advised them it was classed as illegal detention given they'd not read you your rights, nor had they allowed you access to a lawyer, and then warned them of the penalties of such a gross breach of procedure. NPC or not, they don't want to be locked in a dark cell either…" Asuna explained as they headed back to the canteen.

Asuna really was a force of nature sometimes, Sinon thought.

"Something doesn't feel right about all of this though." Asuna said offhandedly. "I could see that 727 on the radar, and the explosion happened so shortly after the missile launched that it just feels wrong…"

"Asuna, you don't have to make me feel better." She told her, her expression dour as she talked.

"I'm not, Sinonon, but none of this adds up to me."

"Yeah, like the GCI telling us it had passed behind you, and then it exploded ahead of you!" Yuuki interjected. "Either someone was telling a fib, or they weren't looking very hard…"

"Yuuki, perhaps we should save the accusations for an investigation?" Asuna calmly reminded the younger girl. "But she's right - I heard that call too. Whatever happens though, I think we all need something to eat, keep our strength up for whatever comes next."

/-/

Inevitably, Sinon found herself unable to keep any food down as they sat and ate in the canteen. She kept her head down, looking at the sandwich; a bite taken out of it, but otherwise untouched, and expecting to feel the judgemental eyes of those around her boring into her from all angles…

Except she didn't. Everything felt so… normal, as if nothing had ever happened. As if she hadn't killed what turned out to be 108 people, the world carried on, and people went about their day.

She couldn't say why that felt so disconcerting to her, even though it did - maybe it was the understanding that the world did just carry on, regardless of how much hers felt like it was imploding, or maybe she was just made aware of how little the average player actually cared about their actions in this game…

She was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. "Sinon, you couldn't have known." Tiese told her, as she sat down. "GCI messed up badly by the looks of it."

"Gotta agree with Ti-chan, that one 'ent your fault, Sinonon." Sinon shuddered at the use of her nickname by anyone that wasn't Asuna, but it was hard to believe them there - yes, GCI had messed up, but surely she shouldn't have taken the shot if she couldn't confirm the target…

"You're awfully quiet, Alice?" Kirito asked, having taken a seat with the girls just.

"Hmm, I cannot say why, but I do not believe this was an accident."

"Alice!"

"You don't seriously think Sinon murdered them!?"

"I never said that, did I?" Alice defended herself. "Perhaps I have grown cynical, but I think someone wanted it to look like a mishap, a communication breakdown between Sinon and control that ended up being fatal."

She honestly wasn't sure which would be worse - knowing she had actually launched the missile that ended 108 lives… or knowing that someone was attempting to frame her for their own crimes, for a reason she didn't know at all.

"I guess?" Tiese looked awkward at the suggestion, and the conversation soon fell silent after that.

"Ah, just the people I was looking for!" Kureha, in a rare (for today, anyway) good mood, broke the silence. "That investigation, yeah, we've been given the task to look into it."

"We?"

"Well, Jet and I, because of our majors." Kureha explained, to a sea of blank looks. "We were studying other things at university, and the Commander agreed we were probably the most qualified people for the job."

"Uhh, what studies do ya do that qualifies ya for air crash investigation?" Argo asked, an eyebrow raised at the explanation.

"I do nursing, and Jet does engineering." Kureha shrugged. "Still not sure why they got us and not someone qualified, and not… y'know?" Potentially biased in their favour, Sinon thought bitterly.

She wasn't sure what it said about her that she was looking at possibly the best possible outcome in this case, and still thinking bitterly about it. Maybe deep down, she did truly believe she deserved to be punished; if not for the shootdown, then for her earlier actions.

Even if they cleared her of any wrongdoing here, she would always know she was still a murderer.

The image of the man in the bank, blood dripping down his face as he slumped lifelessly against the wall, whilst she held the gun that had killed him in her young hands, would attest to that…

/-/

Kureha could honestly say that she had no idea what was involved in an air crash investigation up until this point, and having been brought onboard as their medical "expert" - a title she very much resented, given she was nothing of the sort, even though she was the 1st Eagles' medical specialist - she sort of wished it would've stayed that way.

The injuries she had seen on multiple of the bodies of the deceased would've been enough to turn a less stern stomach, she thought, with bodies blasted apart by the explosion - those being impossible to identify from just the pieces alone - and some who had likely died from their injuries, but not immediately.

The worst ones though, were the blunt force trauma victims, those who had survived the explosion, only to be torn apart as the plane collided with the ground at nearly the speed of sound. There wasn't much left of those either, she'd soon discovered…

Which left only the second category of people left to investigate, and even then, only those who had been in the tail section of the 727 when it impacted at a substantially slower rate. Those bodies were still badly injured, and then it was mostly from shrapnel, rather than impact, allowing her to see what injuries had been sustained, and by what mechanism…

The prep work she had done for starting her training as a nurse had taught her a few things, and Jet had helpfully given her a print out of the warhead of an AIM-47, and the metal shrapnel inside it that would be propelled into the target when it hit, but one thing stood out…

The shrapnel she was finding bore no resemblance to those pieces inside an AIM-47, but in fact, did bear some resemblance to the wash basin in the bathroom of the 727…

/-/

Over on the structural side of the investigation, Jet had found himself coming to a similar realisation when he was able to examine the pieces of the aircraft as they were reconstructed on a frame - whatever destroyed Flight 114 was not a missile in his eyes; or at least, not unless someone had smuggled an AIM-9 onboard, anyway.

His Level 2 in Engineering had never really taught him how to discern details from explosions - a shocking oversight in the British education system, he now thought to himself - but years of almost religiously watching documentaries on aviation disasters had taught him such a skill, as well as an easy way of remembering it:

If the metal curved outwards, something had exited the plane.

If the metal curved inwards, something had entered the plane.

It was a bit like shattered glass at a crime scene - glass on the inside told you that someone had broken in, whilst glass on the outside was a surefire way of telling you someone had broken it either as a cover up, or in a scuffle.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that wasn't a missile that did that." He looked at the gaping hole with metal bent outwards in front of him.

If anything, the damage pattern screamed "bomb" to him; the aluminium structure of the rear fuselage blasted outwards at around the area of the rear bathroom, something that told him that was where they should be narrowing their search down to…

"I'd be inclined to agree, yes." The senior investigator agreed with his assessment, writing something down on his clipboard. "Though we could do with waiting for the autopsy reports back to say for definite."

He could only hope Kureha had found something else to further solidify the evidence in front of them, and not any missile fragments in bodies…

/-/

"Well, I don't think it was a shootdown." Kureha stated as they reconvened beside the wreckage of the 727. "The bodies looked like they'd had half the wash basin fired into them, and the pathologist agreed there. No missile fragments though."

"Same with the structure, all of the damage is pointing outwards and if that was hit by a missile, it'd be pointing inwards."

"I would've thought this would've been a lot harder to find evidence, y'know?" Kureha thought aloud. "But something feels weird here, doesn't it?"

"What, you mean the fact that our side is pinning the blame on Sinon, despite the fact that none of the evidence says it's even remotely possible she did it?" He summarised. "Yeah, it almost feels like they didn't want this investigation to even happen, lest something like this be found."

"Why though?"

"Pass." He admitted. "Every theory I can think of doesn't make any sense for any more than a moment."

"Great, so we've uncovered a conspiracy… but not one we can even understand." Kureha sighed. "Still, at least we know Sinon and Yuuki are innocent now, so that's a bit of good news, right?"

"Yeah, that is good… but if someone was trying to frame them for this…"

Kureha leaned back in her seat and sighed heavily. "Yeah, I get where you're going. We've just painted ourselves with a massive bullseye too…"

/-/

"So that's where we stand." Asuna found herself wondering if virtual headaches were a thing, especially given the revelation that someone was very keen to cover this up as their fault, and let the actual perpetrators of the murders of 108 people get off scot-free… not to mention pinning the blame for those 108 murders on her friends!

Oh, she would be having a discussion with the perpetrators about that if she got her hands on them… A discussion that involved borrowing a breaker bar from Liz's workshop and administering it to them with extreme kinetic prejudice!

"At least we know Sinonon was innocent now." Trust in Kirito to choose to focus on the positives there, rather than the negatives that were the fact they were now in the middle of the same conspiracy that had tried to blame the girls for someone else's crimes… "Still, are you sure you should be telling us this? Hardly seems like standard procedures to me…"

"Yeah, well, whoever these bastards are, I'm betting they're planning on using SOP to our disadvantage. Knowing that, I don't plan on fighting them fairly. So fuck SOP right now." Jet shrugged, and whilst Asuna would've almost certainly phrased it with less vulgarity, he was right.

Whoever was behind this was intending to obfuscate their actions through standard operating procedures, and that meant that their suspect had to be someone who understood those procedures intricately…

There was an uneasy look between all three of them as it dawned on them exactly who might be involved - the commander.

It would explain why the members of the 302 had been chosen to conduct an investigation, rather than legitimate air crash investigators - should they discover the truth of the matter, which they had, then the commander could, with some valid concern, dismiss it out of hand as a biased interpretation from people with every reason to pin the blame elsewhere…

They had no legitimacy, and if they tried to raise the matter, it would be completely dismissed out of hand for that reason.

An understanding they all now shared with the concerned looks plastered on their faces. "So what do we do now?" She was the first to speak up, looking ahead to what they would do next.

If the commanders couldn't be trusted, then who could be?

"If we can't trust Shasta, then I don't think we can trust Bercouli either. Not here anyway."

"What about the 301st in general?" She asked, and noticed the heavy look of conflict on Jet's face, and she could see why - he was almost as much of Fanatio's student as any of the 301, and he and Eydis very much trusted each other implicitly…

To have that thrown into doubt for him, it must have been like having her trust in Kirito shaken, she thought to herself… "Fanatio, I'm not too sure - but I think the rest of them are in the clear." Kirito summarised, and she noticed that Jet had fallen unusually silent…

"Regardless," she continued. "We need to know who we can trust, and who we can't." It hurt her to admit that some of the people she flew with, put her life in the hands of, and even shared a comradery with… might not be people she could necessarily trust.

"I think that's the least of our worries right now…" Jet spoke up, a look of realisation on his face again. "Kirito, you explained what happened with Shasta before to Asuna, didn't you?"

"Of course - he was imprisoned for attempting a coup." Asuna nodded her head. "Do you think he might be doing that again?"

"I'm not sure, but I feel like he might be playing a long game - if Osea gets drawn into a war on two fronts, with Belka in the north, and Leasath in the south, plus the tensions with the Yukes, then what's to say he won't try and make his move on the grounds that the current system has dragged them into a forever war that they can't win…"

Asuna hated how much that whole thing made sense to her, and that it almost sounded like complete conspiratorial nonsense… until she reminded herself of the circumstances they found themselves in.

There was absolutely a conspiracy at play, and they needed to derail it as soon as possible, before all hell broke loose… again.

/-/

At Canaveral, an urgent meeting of the 301, 302 and 303 had been called to discuss the events of the past days.

It had been an awkward situation to try to lie their way past Fanatio as to why they were hosting a meeting between squadrons… without one of the three commanders, but in the end, she had left them to their own devices when they claimed it had something to do with a calendar to raise money for their operations…

A nude calendar at that.

She'd left very quickly once that snippet was dropped, and Kirito breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't pressed on further with that…

"So, uhh, Kirito-sir, we aren't actually doing that… are we?" Ronye asked, nerves evident on her face.

"No, I just needed an excuse to get rid of her." He answered bluntly, and felt the room breathe a sigh of relief. "Though honestly, that might be less terrifying than what I have to say…"

"Uh oh… Asuna isn't pregnant, is she?" Eydis asked, only to be quickly shut up by Alice, whilst Leafa blue screened at the thought.

"No, Asuna isn't pregnant." He answered with a hand over his face. "Someone set up Sinon."

"Yes, I was right!" Yuuki exclaimed, before realising exactly what she was celebrating… "Oh no, I was right…"

"But… I don't get why?" Leafa asked, having recovered from the blue screen of death she had found herself with mentally. "Who set her up, and why?"

"We think they're trying to launch a coup, and for that to work, they need a war with Leasath." Asuna explained as best as she could, and there was a quiet discomfort in the room before Sinon spoke up.

"Who?" was all she asked, and even then it was quiet.

"We think the Commanders are involved." The shock in the room was palpable in that moment, and understandably so. The thought that the Commanders were responsible for all of this; the people who had died aboard the airliner, and who knew how many other crimes they had committed in search of their goals…

"So what now?" Asked Liz, a rare moment of restraint from her as she picked up a newspaper. "Because any chance of proving that Sinon is innocent is gone, now the media's involved…"

"They're just lying though!" Tiese shouted, scandal in her voice. "They can't just claim that's what happened… can they?"

And then, as the room was silent in thought, a single voice broke through. "You're right - completely."

That voice was that of Dorothy, their liaison officer. In the time they'd met, he struggled to believe she was the kind of person who could do anything like this, but the fact that they hadn't included her in the meeting as planned was a good clue that even then, she wasn't trusted either. "But they've not won yet. Their plan is still in action, and I think we could stop it…"

"And you know this… how?"

Dorothy looked away sadly, a look of shame in her eyes as she stared into the wall besides her. "Because that is how we survived the Belkans. We were recruited as double agents, intended to sabotage the Osean war effort."

There was a look of absolute disgust on many of the pilots' faces at the frank nature of the admission, but one that stood out above all else was the look of betrayal on Eydis' face, pretty much confirming she wasn't part of the conspiracy...

"Why should we trust you?" She asked quietly, a look of genuine hurt on her face. "You were my friend, we fought together and I… trusted you. You were going to sell us down the river, and everything we were accused of… everything we did our best to prove people wrong about; you were exactly what they said we were!" Eydis snapped, and he couldn't say why, but it felt like there was a dark aura around her now, one that even Alice and Eugeo seemed to nudge away from…

"I… deserved that, didn't I?" Dorothy sighed, trying to remain professional. "Yes, I am a traitor, and I have no doubts I will be dealt with as one, but there isn't time to waste here. Their plans are in action, and we have to stop them before it escalates further…"

That professional detachment led to the most obvious question being asked by Asuna. "Why should we trust what you have to say?"

"We shouldn't, but I think we should at least hear her out first." Zeliska pointed out. "Then we can decide if she is to be trusted…"

"Thank you." Dorothy nodded in respect to the older woman, who seemed less than enthusiastic about the respect shown, if the scowl on her face was anything to go by. "The Commanders may be the ones taking action, but they are not their plans. Even if we were to stop their plans, there are other pawns in play too, and I do not know who."

"So… we know someone is doing something, but not who or what. Excellent, that narrows it down to… everyone." Liena responded with cutting sarcasm, and Kirito couldn't blame her there - Dorothy wasn't exactly helping as much as she thought she was with this…

"Not really, it likely involves the Blackguard Defence Company - they have long been affiliated with Commander Shasta, and he is on the board of the company. If I were to guess, then the most likely attack vector would come from them."

"That narrows it down a little, but not much." Kureha admitted. "Though, thinking about it logically - they want a war between Osea and Leasath, right?"

"No. Well, maybe." There was another roll of eyes from the gathered audience. "I don't think Commander Shasta is following whoever's plan it was anymore."

"Why?"

"Because the plan called for a war between Osea and Leasath. Only, this won't lead to a war, not in the way they wanted - it feels more like Shasta is allowing his own prejudices to overrule his planning…" Another new voice added from the other side of the room, that being the voice of a rather unimpressed Lipia.

And stood beside her was an even less impressed looking Fanatio - actually, unimpressed looking was probably the understatement of the century, she looked pissed!

"Captain!" Dorothy exclaimed in shock.

"I'm sure Dorothy has already explained some things, but she was a junior officer and didn't know everything. I do."

"And you're willing to betray this conspiracy, because…?"

"I am a soldier. I accept my job is to kill people to protect others, but what the Commander ordered me to do is not war, it is outright terrorism for the goals of a select few. Does that answer your question?"

"Not really, no." Klein admitted. "You know a bit more about this whole deal though, so I think we're stuck with her."

"I'm hardly thrilled to be on your side either, but I stand the better chance of survival here." Lipia rebuked. "I'm sure you all got the notification involving the mission to protect Yutar, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps a little more detail is needed - Shasta had dealings with a Yutari squadron in the previous war, ostensibly allied with them, but that was… tenuous at best. The flight leader of the squadron was the leader of the autonomous region, as it was at the time, and used Shasta's squadron, No.99 as bait for a trap, whilst his forces engaged the Belkan Legionaries. They succeeded in wiping out the Legionaries in what would become known as Black Friday, but at the cost of all but two members of 99 Squadron - can you guess who they were?"

"Him and Bercouli…"

"Yes. Bercouli, well, I don't know him well enough to know if he still harbours that grudge, but Shasta certainly does."

"And that grudge means he's just sabotaged his own plan." Jet sighed. "No wonder the stuff with Flight 114 didn't make much sense, it was meant to look like a damn cover up for something else…"

"Exactly. The higher ups will say a missile brought down the plane, whilst anyone who has seen the wreckage will say a bomb did, and that divide will only become starker when Yutari agents are found with tickets that matched the details for Flight 114…"

"That I understand, and to a degree, I understand why he is doing this, but… actually, no, I do not understand why he is doing this?" Alice answered, what seemed like the vaguest understanding in her mind disappearing back to complete confusion again.

"So, to protect Yutar, we have to deal with Shasta, prevent him from joining on the Leasathi side, and potentially bring this whole thing to light?"

"That's the easy bit." Fanatio answered, speaking up for the first time at this meeting… "The hard part will be avoiding him catching onto what we are doing, and figuring out exactly what he will do now."

"We are absolutely fucked, aren't we?" Klein sighed, and he couldn't help but agree with him on that one.

"It does appear that way, yes." Fanatio added, unhelpfully. "Captains Kirigaya and Edmondson, a word in private, if you don't mind?"

Something told him those words would be quite profane, and very unhappy, he thought as he and Jet gave each other a nervous glance…

/-/

As it turned out, he was right on the latter point, but there had been little profanity thrown their way by Fanatio. In fact, it was worse that she almost understood why she had been excluded from the meeting, and she even allowed it to slip that they had tried to recruit her into the conspiracy, though that meeting had been… less productive.

Namely as it had ended with Fanatio walking off infuriated - not only at them believing she would actually join them, but that they had apparently threatened their lives to get to her… a decision that she promised them that they would regret.

Fanatio was scary in normal circumstances, but knowing that… god, the woman was terrifying.

"Normally, I would suggest deferring to the Commander, but I don't feel like that's a good idea right now." She admitted, pretty much confirming to them that even she didn't trust Bercouli with this one.

"So what, are we just operating outside of command now?" Jet asked, a look of clear concern on his face.

"No, it's best not to give Shasta any more ammunition if he's already gunning for us."

"Agreed, even a single misstep, and we may end up-"

Before he could finish, the walkie-talkie that Fanatio carried began to go off, static filling the air of the corridor. "Go ahead, Tower." There was a brief pause as they couldn't hear the response, though Fanatio clearly could. "Understood, we'll monitor the situation. Just call us if you need anything." She nodded.

"Situation?"

"Belay the previous order to not give Shasta any ammunition. I think he's just given High Command the rope to hang him with…" Fanatio answered, and they headed back into the briefing room, where the TV was already on and set to the news channel.

The news channel was now reporting on what looked to be a full on war with Blackguard mercenaries in a small town on the Osean side of the border - the mercenaries having seized a number of towns on the southern border, having disguised themselves as Yutari forces, before their true identity became pretty obvious when it became apparent their commander had never played Modern Warfare 2… and missed the golden rule of false flag operations - to paraphrase that rule, "Remember, no Osean."...

It was telling that not even the reporter on the ground believed that story that Blackguard were spinning - that the mercenaries were merely innocents caught up in the crossfire between a hostile state and the security forces positioned there…

That story had become even less believable when it became apparent that Blackguard had bought air support too, and of types not known to be operated by the Yutaris - F-4s, F-5s, Hunters… whatever had been dragged out of storage.

Thanks to that though, they were now on alert - a more local squadron, the 88th Air Defence Squadron being sent up to deal with the fighters for the moment.

"I think the Commander just overplayed his hand." Eugeo said, barely looking away from the TV.

"I wouldn't be so sure - he has proven nothing if not resource-" Fanatio found herself cut off as an explosion rocked the barracks they were in. "What in the five sane hells was that!?"

"Bombs! We're under attack!"

"Why didn't the alarm sound!?"

"No idea, get going! I'll go see what the hell the tower are playing at to miss a bloody bomber wave!" Jet shouted as he ran out the barracks.

He wasn't the only one sprinting out the barracks either, as the majority of the 301, 302 and 303 rushed out to their aircraft, caught off guard, but ready to fight the surprise attack…

And much like that stupid Honey Badger Liz had bought as a pet, they'd fight like hell to bloody their attackers, no matter the odds against them!

/-/

Accelerating down the runway, Leafa wondered if it was a bad sign that she was looking forward to showing the attackers exactly what they could do out here…

She'd not really been able to prove her mettle in her previous unit, but she had been promoted on the basis that she was an exceptional pilot (and according to her commander, her piloting skills were rivalled only by how much of a pain in the ass she was), so she wasn't worried about what they would be facing.

Kazuto had told her that the Blackguard pilots they'd fought before she arrived were nothing to write home about, and they'd been quickly dispatched with two BVR shots, and that had been that.

Almost immediately after taking off though, with barely enough chance to retract the complex gear of her Mirage, she spotted her first target - a Hawker Hunter making a low pass on the apron.

Not if she had anything to say about it!

Pulling the nose of the Mirage around, she found herself eyeballing the shot from her cannons, and tapping the trigger to let off a short ranging burst…

Her ranging must have been spot on, as the Hunter rocked against the weight of the 30mm shells pummelling the airframe, before it exploded into a cloud of shrapnel!

Her first kill! "Leafa, splash one!"

Behind her, she spotted another Hunter attempting to close in for a kill on her, only for the fighter to clip a lighting tower, and cartwheel into the ground…

"Tower to all aircraft! All planes, check in!" Captain Jet shouted down the microphone, exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Leafa, checking in."

"Asuna."

"Tiese, loud and clear sir."

"Ronye, affirmative."

Four aircraft - that had been all that had been able to get up for whatever reason; some aircraft simply hadn't been armed, some weren't fueled, and others were required to undertake maintenance work before they could be dispatched… and so, that left them with only four aircraft to defend the base...

"Right, okay, four of you." The Captain responded, a little exasperation clear in his voice at that realisation.

"Umm, sir, how come the tower didn't alert us?"

"I found their bodies up here - they'd been dead for a while. I'm guessing whoever Fanatio was talking to must've been one of Shasta's lot." He explained. "Took the radar out of commission too, Liz is working on getting it back online, but until then we need you girls to paint us a picture."

"Understood sir. Six fighter-bombers in the area, plus two bombers approaching from the north. Returns are large enough I would estimate them to be Badgers, Captain." Ronye answered, almost able to give a better picture of the situation than her own radar was!

"Got it. I'm working on getting you girls more support, but until then…" The pause was very telling - it was telling them they were on their own up here…

"We understand. Leafa, you're my wing woman out here, okay?"

"Okay ma'am!"

"Tiese, Ronye, can you handle the Badgers?"

"On it, Asuna!" From across the field, she spotted the two Mirage 2000s breaking away in full afterburner; on the hunt for the marauding Badgers, which left just herself and Asuna to handle the Hunters…

"Asuna, Leafa, we have more bandits approaching - looks like these guys are still fully armed too."

"Understood, we're engaging all targets in the area." Asuna confirmed, and she looked around for her flight leader's F-15, though she couldn't see it through the smoke and the chaos around them…

"Ma'am, where are you?"

"Angels 4, heading 355." Ah ha! Now she could see the F-15 climbing out, and her radar had finally sprung into life, meaning she had options that weren't just her cannons… "Asuna, Fox One." In the distance, a Sparrow dropped away from the Eagle at her target, whilst she pulled up into a climb to avoid a similar fate as had befallen the Hunter that bounced her…

"Solitaire Two, I'm on the runway - I'll be on station in around a minute."

"Knight Lead, taking off." Behind her, she watched as the purple tailed F-16 and the… colourful F/A-18 roared down the runway.

In front of her though, she spotted a pair of larger targets hugging the earth as they approached, only to be given away by their lack of camouflage - silver Ilyushin Il-28s, older jet bombers, but still capable of packing a punch if they were laden with bombs… "Radar lock, two Beagles ahead. I'm engaging."

Against most targets, a stern chase engagement was the ideal position for a missile attack - the R.550 Magics on her Mirage not being all aspect weapons like the AIM-9Ls used by most of the squadron - but against the Il-28, and most Soviet designed bombers, it was a very bad idea, as those bombers often still retained a defensive tail gunner with a mean punch in the form of a pair of NR-23 23mm cannons… easily enough to shred her Mirage if it got too close.

To make matters more annoying, even a head on attack wouldn't be safe either - the Beagle having another pair of fixed NR-23s in the nose aimed by the pilot - so her plan became to jink out of the way of the nose guns, and use her cannons to hit the bombers from their 3 or 10 o' clock positions, thus keeping away from their guns…

Though her first shot wouldn't be with her guns, but rather a Super 530F radar-guided missile. The noise in her headset told her that she was in launch parameters, and in a rehearsed routine, she set about the switches to release the weapon, and finally pressed the trigger. "Leafa, Fox One."

The missile fell away, and screamed towards its target at only ten miles away, scoring a direct hit. The sky around it lit up into a fireball, and she could just about make out the forward section of the aircraft and its wings plummeting to the ground, its tail completely gone… "Leafa, splash one Beagle."

The second bomber, now realising it was the prey, made a swift turn to avoid any more radar guided missiles, though in doing so, it bought itself into the launch parameters for her Magics, and quickly, she set about an attack with them.

Seconds passed by, and a growl in her headset told her that the Magic was ready to fire. "Leafa, Fox Two." The missile launched off the wingtip rail, curving its path to follow the Beagle, before detonating just behind the bomber and showering it with shrapnel. Unlike the first one, it didn't immediately explode, although it did begin to descend rapidly.

Another few seconds passed, and the Il-28 was reduced to nothing but a scorch mark on the ground and a fireball ahead of her. "Leafa, splash both Beagles."

"Good job, radar coverage is back online… now. No new bogies entering the airspace, so it's just the stragglers left."

"Gotcha." Kureha said, engaged with a Hunter who probably wished he'd stayed home today as an AIM-9L blasted the older fighter-bomber to pieces… "And got him too."

"Tower, are you sure there's no more targets on radar?" Asuna asked, a sense of unease in her flight leader's voice… enough that she checked her radar and spotted something else - one more target around 50 miles out.

"Yeah, sur-where the hell did they come from?"

"Sir, those bombers weren't Blackguard… They were Leasathi." Ronye added, and she realised just how much of a mess this was going to be when they got back.

"What? Black Blade Seven, confirm that again, would you?"

"Confirmed - those Tu-16s had Leasathi markings." Ronye reiterated.

"Crap, they must have been trying to attack Blackguard up near Yutar, I'll bet." The Captain groaned. "All aircraft airborne, let them get closer - if they fire on you, you're cleared to retaliate, but until then…"

"Only deal with the Blackguard aircraft, Knight Lead confirms."

"Never an easy day with us, is it?"

"Ronye to tower, I have visual on the bogies - an L-39, looks like it's got Yutari markings."

"Osean aircraft, this is Pagoda Leader of the Yutari Air Force, do you read me?"

"Pagoda Leader, this is Commander Fanatio of the 301st Fighter Squadron, we read you."

"Ah good! We were in pursuit of those Leasathi bombers, but your planes dispatched them before we could - excellent work, by the way."

"Thanks ma'am!"

"Pagoda Leader, I would advise turning around - we are currently engaged with Blackguard mercenaries near the border, and those Albatrosses aren't exactly fighters…" The L-39s they flew were nimble aircraft, and extremely hard to hit, but in a straight up fight, they were no match for the actual fighters… or even the older Hunter fighter-bombers that Blackguard were using; so it was probably for their own good that the Yutari pilots headed back…

"Bit late there, guys and girls, one more aircraft approaching at… that can't be right, can it?"

"Sir?"

"Shit, get down!"

For only a split second, Leafa caught a glimpse of the object that hit Blundellsands - long, cylindrical with a narrow delta wing that covered the whole fuselage, and moving so fast that it passed out of her eyesight before she had even blinked…

"What was that?!"

"A cruise missile of some kind?"

"Tower to all aircraft… whatever it was, it was the only one by the looks of it. Came down on the apron, so taxiways Alpha 8 and 9 are out of use whilst we inspect the damage. It came down at about Mach 4 though, so I doubt it's a cruise missile, Kureha."

"All Blackguard aircraft have been dispatched." Asuna informed them, with an explosion just ahead of her signifying the end of their ill-considered attack on the base at Blundellsands. "They just lost a lot of resources for nothing much."

"That's what worries me, Asuna." Kazuto answered. "Either they woefully underestimated us… or that was only meant to be a test to see what we can do when the chips are down."

"Shasta isn't stupid." Lipia told them. "Whatever he's planning now, it's not something I've seen before."

"Give me strength… more aircraft, four of them coming from… the north? Eh?" There was a brief pause, before a transmission went out on all radio channels. "Unidentified aircraft, this is the Tower at Blundellsands. Report your identity and intentions."

"Tower, this is Liberator Lead of the 23rd Fighter Squadron, Osean Air Force. Verification code Silver Gallantry."

"Verification code checks out, it's in the notes here, look." The pilots in the tower must have been having their own conversation with the microphone still on if they could hear them out here… "Apologies, Liberator Lead. We're a bit… uhh, out of the loop at the moment."

"We know. AWACS picked up the bandits entering the airspace, but couldn't reach you guys."

"Yeah, they'd have struggled - our tower controllers were killed, and our radar was disabled. All aircraft, skies are clear now. Return to base and head for debrief immediately."

"Pagoda Leader to Tower… requesting permission to land too. I doubt I will have the fuel to return to Rocky Lane now…"

"Granted, Pagoda Leader."

After today, she imagined there were going to be a lot of conversations about everything that had happened, not many of them pleasant…

"You did well out there, by the way."

"Gotta agree with Asuna there - not many people who get three kills on their first outing in combat, Sugu."

"Hadn't even crossed my mind, you know." She lied, trying to be modest - internally a part of her was jumping for joy at the fact she had actually gotten into the fight… and another part reminded her that she had now seen combat.

Not a training exercise, but actual combat… and it was pure chaos in her eyes. A far cry from the organised exercises she'd been tested with, and it had taught her a valuable lesson already…

She was too used to those exercises, ones where they had safety margins, room for error, and people to tell her what she did wrong. In combat, you had none of those, and had to keep your wits about you… and she hadn't.

She'd broken almost every rule in the book - left her flight leader on her own, hadn't properly prepared, failed to check her six o'clock… and had it not been for that Hunter's mistake, it could have cost her everything…

She needed to get better if she was going to survive out here, for her own sake. For everyone's sake, even…

Chapter Text

Chapter 30 - When the Clock Strikes Twelve

Midnight anywhere was usually considered a quiet time.

Of course there were exceptions - Midnight in a major city was almost as busy as midday in the same city, such was nightlife - but for the most part, midnight was considered the dead of night.

Most people would be sleeping, and those that weren't would be wishing that they could be sleeping, but tonight, there was a third category…

Those who were still watching what was hyped up as one of the biggest events of the calendar in Strangereal - the Oseavision Song Contest. A musical festival where all of the countries on the Osean continent, and quite a few that weren't, joined together for one night of singing and dancing to celebrate harmony between the nations…

That last part felt almost like a cruel joke, considering the state of the world.

She'd had a rather naive view of what a game like ACES would entail - viewing it as a bit like the old game of War Thunder, but fully immersive. She'd been wrong, and she'd soon realised that once it became a death game.

Her friends had seen the young girl as a liability, and she'd been kept well away from the battlefield, watching as her squadrons fought and died to win the battles they found themselves in, and she was never too sure she even wanted to join the fight anymore. All of which had meant she found herself in a variety of odd jobs on the ground; all important to keeping the squadron running, but none particularly glamorous, and many of the pilots seemed to forget she was even there…

And so it was that she found herself manning the ground control station overnight, whilst the higher ranked pilots were at Bana City, flying air cover for the Song Contest - just in case anyone tried anything.

Of course, the words "in case the Leasathis tried anything" were left unsaid there.

As one of her jobs involved helping Philia with developing the film they received, she felt she had a decent understanding of the situation with Leasath, including a decent understanding of its history:

Tensions on the Southern Continent had been high for years, and the two countries often found themselves in small scale skirmishes over the Southern Cross; a four way border between the largest countries of Aurelia and Leasath, and the smaller countries of Cape Grande and Someria, before Cape Grande and Someria had been annexed in the early part of the decade, leading to Leasath becoming something of an uneasy ally in the region.

The Leasathi royals were very much allied with the Oseans, having been educated in a private school somewhere to the east of Oured, but that was more than could be said for the rest of the country - the state was one of haves, and have nots; the haves being anyone favoured by the monarchy, the have nots being everyone else. It was only a matter of time before those tensions boiled over, everyone knew, and that had led the monarchy to build up an impressive fleet of state of the art aircraft, ranging from a large fleet of the smaller F-5E Tiger II, to a large order of F-14As for use as a long range patrol fighter…

Not to mention a growing fleet of Mirage IV bombers, and Mirage F1 fighters, alongside a fleet of Boeing 747 special mission aircraft - aircraft that were speculated to have been converted into either tankers, or airborne early warning aircraft… no one was entirely sure which it was, as they hadn't been able to get a good look at the 747s since they arrived.

That massive military rearmament hadn't exactly looked like it was worth much when Operation Diamond had led to the invasion of Adamas; a small nation off their coastline, and the Leasathis had abstained from helping, and even actively hindered the Oseans by sending up fighters to engage them - resulting in the loss of all fighters sent up, all of which were chalked up by the Black Blades.

Which had in turn led them to last month, where a coup in Leasath had overthrown the monarchy and military dictatorship, in favour of a supposedly democratic regime, led by a career bureaucrat - Isaac Humphrey. Of course, no one believed it was actually democratic, and Philia's theory had been that the man was a puppet for someone else, because the man was so lacking in charisma that there was no chance he had been able to persuade the army to revolt against their own man…

That had all been ancient history compared to the events of the last week though - with what was being called the Blackguard Insurrection by the news agencies. Blackguard mercenaries had attempted to attack Osean military bases on the Southern border, and had actually succeeded in attacking their base at Blundellsands, though only through sabotage…

Which was why she was manning the radar station; as they expected this wouldn't be over - not by a long shot. Granted, she wasn't paying as much attention as she perhaps should have been, spending a lot of the time watching the Song Contest on the TV they kept up there, and maybe, possibly, just a little bit, singing to Pina, the base cat.

Only something felt… wrong. The radar was scanning, but something in her mind said it wasn't to be trusted. What that something was, she couldn't tell, but it was there, and so, she'd called Liz to see if she could offer a better explanation than "her sixth sense said something was wrong"...

"It's probably nothing, Liz, but…"

"Huh, yeah, you're right." Liz agreed as she poked the scope. "I can't see our aircraft on it either. That's… not good, it means we've had no radar coverage for- Silica, when did this start?"

"A couple of minutes ago?"

"Okay, that's not great, but at least it wasn't hours ago." Liz sighed in relief. "I'll ask the girls if they've got anything on their scopes." Liz swapped to the GCI frequency, and made contact with Tiese and Ronye, the girls currently flying a CAP mission towards the Osea-Leasath border… "Black Blades, this is Liz. How copy?"

"Loud and clear, Liz. What's up?"

"Our radar coverage is on the fritz. Do you girls have anything on your scopes?"

"Negative, Liz. Just empty sky out here…"

"Understood. Keep watch whilst we reset the radar, please."

"You got it, Liz."

"Silica, try to raise command and explain the situation. I'll do what I can to fix this, but-" Liz looked at the scope as it burst into life. Ten, no, twenty, no… probably, no, definitely more dots appeared on the radar scope, almost like a cloud of aircraft appearing in front of them… "I think we've got a really big problem…" Liz gulped…

/-/

In the skies above the southern border, the pair of Mirage 2000s maintained the airborne readiness of the Osean Air Force, armed with a pair of Magic 2 heatseekers, and a pair of Super 530F semi-active radar guided missiles, alongside their central tanks.

At the same time, Tiese checked her radar scope, spotting something that shook her to her core - a swarm of dots had appeared on the RDI radar, all of them heading in the direction of Osea, and worse still, the direction of Canaveral…

How the hell had Liz and Silica not spotted that!? There were upwards of 30 signals up here, not counting her flight, and it wasn't like the Leasathis had stealth fighters!

Or at least, she really hoped they didn't.

"Liz, this is Tiese, we've got a swarm of aircraft moving across the border. At least 30 aircraft, probably more, and- dammit!"

Her radar warning receiver cut her off, and spotting a white trail behind them, she threw the Mirage into a tight turn to the left, the delta wing of the Mirage pouring vapour trails as it pulled upwards of 8G to avoid the missile…

Thankfully, the missile flew harmlessly past them, but regardless of what command ordered, they were fighting back now!

It was self-defence after all!

"Girls, we can't raise command at all, so… do what you can to thin them out. Everyone's scrambling, but it'll be ten or fifteen minutes before they get there."

"Understood, we'll do what we can until then." She told them. "Ronye, still with me?"

"Yes, barely. I think we should split off, there are too many aircraft to stay fixated on one, but I think we can thin them out."

"Sounds like a plan." In the distance, she caught a glimpse of the attacking aircraft - a flight of F-4 Phantoms, meaning the missile attack had been from an AIM-7 more than likely. The formations below were a distraction to allow the Phantoms to live up to their name, and snap the tripwire…

Unfortunately for them, they were a rather resilient tripwire, and not only that, they were a tripwire that would fight back!

"Attacking aircraft are F-4s, Ronye. I'm guessing they won't be the only ones though."

"Wilco, watching for other ambushes then."

In the dark, they had been reliant on their radars, but as the night sky broke into patches of daylight, they would be able to rely on their eyes once more, and the two Mirages would be able to be far more aggressive in the fight…

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

"Oh will you just shut up!" She moaned at the RWR as she threw the Mirage into a turning fight. Against the F-4, the Mirage was a deadly opponent; the delta-winged fighter being far more agile than the Phantom, and almost a generation newer in terms of avionics, but the Phantoms could simply outlast them, by forcing them to stay in the fight long after they had hit bingo fuel… and the F-4s could simply run away, should the going get tough.

They couldn't, as the F-4 could run them down quite easily…

Spotting the first pair of attacking Phantoms, she threw the Mirage into a tight left hand bank, the missile lock breaking as she did so, and allowing the faster Phantoms to sail straight past, as she reversed the turn, draining her energy for the advantage of a killshot on the attackers.

GRRRR…

She had tone from her Magic 2s, and she fired the first shot. The missile dropped away from the wingtip pylon, and a white trail filled the early morning sky for a few seconds, before an explosion lit it up further.

The heatseeker had scored a direct hit, and blasted the Phantom with shrapnel, tearing the tail surfaces clean off the jet, and sending it plummeting to earth in a flat spin, pouring flames as it did so…

"Tiese, score a Phantom." She called out, as the second Phantom, the flight leader, opened the throttles and began to accelerate away from her.

As the Phantom ran away, sans its wingman, she watched as another explosion lit up the hillside in the distance. "Ronye, one down."

Against this many aircraft, staying as a pair was sure to get them killed - all it took was for a pair of Phantoms to sneak up on them in the melee, and both of them would be burning piles of metal in this fight - and so, they'd developed a strategy of mutual defence for situations like this:

Each aircraft in the group would pick their own targets, but they would do what they could to clear each others' tails when they called for help, or if they spotted something the others hadn't… unfortunately, they;d developed that plan with four aircraft in mind…

Not two.

Well, if there was ever a good time to use an untested plan, she supposed it was when the odds were against them, and survival depended on being the best flyers up here…

"Samurai Lead to Black Blades, we're getting airborne now. ETA is 8 minutes."

"Got it Klein, we'll be glad for the back up. There's more targets here than-crap!" Another Phantom triggered the RWR, and she broke sharply to the right, breaking lock again, before another pair of Phantoms flew in at her three o'clock.

They would have the advantage unless she could drag them into a head on pass, and that was what she aimed for. The three jets passed each other at a closing rate well over the speed of sound, and as they did, she watched the pair of Phantoms disappear out from underneath her.

She broke left again, reacquiring the pair of aircraft visually as they began to climb - a crucial mistake. Whilst her Mirage was nothing compared to the F-4 in terms of climb rate, they were opening the distance up just enough for her to gain a lock with her Super 530s, and after running through the steps, the radar lock beep pierced her ears from her headset…

"Tiese, Fox One!"

The larger missile dropped away, and flew true, finding its mark on the flight leader - the Phantom disappearing as the missile's warhead vapourised it, and showered the wingman in shrapnel, the wingman now pouring smoke - well, pouring more smoke, anyway - from the J79s as it began to decelerate…

She didn't have time to watch her third kill of the day go down, as another pair of Phantoms dove down on her from nine o'clock high, though only one would reach her, a radar guided Super 530 obliterating one of them in the dive. "Ronye, splash one."

"Thanks for the save." She said, watching as the second Phantom made its crucial mistake - the pilot hesitated, raising the nose slightly, and overshooting her in the dive. Just enough that she was able to snap the Mirage into a tight turn and slide in on their six o'clock, close enough that she readied her guns; the twin DEFA 554s pouring out 30mm tracers into the F-4's wing and fuselage as she pulled the trigger…

Fire burst out of the Phantom, and she pulled away, expecting the next attack… "One pair, behind you!" Ronye called out, and she began a snap turn to try and force another overshoot.

The first Phantom sailed straight past, but their wingman had evidently anticipated as much, staying with her in the turn, whilst the flight leader seemed to have disappeared somewhere…

"He's still on me!" She called out, throwing the Mirage into another tight turn to the right, though to no avail. The Phantom was staying with her, and it almost felt like they knew every move she was about to make, only to have a perfect counter for it…

For almost a minute, the two aircraft flew in a textbook tail chase - maneuver, then counter maneuver - with neither being able to find that moment to turn the tables, or to launch a killing shot… "Ronye, I could do with a bit of backup here!" She called out, watching as her altimeter began to spiral, the fight dragging ever closer to the deck…

"On it, I have a radar lock. Ronye, Fox One." She called out, and a Super 530 flew straight towards the pair of them, passing between both aircraft, but failing to detonate on either - thankfully, if she was honest.

What it had done though, was cause the trailing Phantom to lose concentration on her six, and trail slightly more distantly as it looked around for its mystery attacker, and allow her to start to turn the tables. A tight right turn went unanswered, and she put the Mirage through a tight barrel roll, getting off a short burst from her cannons as the Phantom passed her gunsight.

Cannon shells burst through the cockpit, and whilst there was no fire or smoke, the bloody red smear in the cockpit was answer enough as to whether she had scored her fifth kill of the engagement…

She couldn't say she was happy about that, the crew of the Phantom having fought valiantly enough that she believed they at least deserved to eject safely to fight another day… rather than being pulverised by 30mm cannon fire.

Still, she didn't have time to worry about that, as another Phantom took a pot shot at her, a Sidewinder streaking over her canopy, but failing to explode as it passed by harmlessly. Looking in the rear view mirror, she spotted the shape of a shark mouth on the F-4 pursuing her, close enough she could almost see the expression on the pilot's face… as his aircraft shuddered violently, before bursting into flames behind her.

"Klein, splash one Phantom."

"Thanks! Let's start cleaning them up."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Oi, I'm your boss, not her!" Klein joked. "But yeah, let's kick their asses back to where they came from!"

"How many are still here?"

"Six aircraft still on my scope, guys and gals." Dale said. "Uhh, five now. One just crashed."

"How are you girls doing for ammo and fuel?"

For the first time in about twenty minutes, Tiese spared a glance for her fuel tank, and spotted something - her drop tank was still attached. She remembered that she'd not had a chance to punch it when they entered the fight, and the rest of the fight had been fought so quickly that she couldn't afford to spare a thought towards it…

She switched her fuel supply to the internal fuel, and jettisoned the tank, allowing her to check her fuel supply - still enough to keep her in the fight.

Weapons were a different story though - of her cannon ammunition, she had barely any left, possibly a second's worth of fire at most, and was down to only a single Magic and a single Super 530. She could still fight, but she was going to need to bug out soon…

"Fuel's good. Weapons, less so. Down to my missiles only now."

"Similar story here for fuel. My guns are fine though, but I am out of missiles."

"Got it, we'll make a path for you to break free and head for home." Klein answered. "Samurai to Lisbeth, we're with them now. Targets are mostly scattered thanks to them, but the bombers are still en route."

"Got it Klein. Sinon, Liena, you heard that? You've still got a job to do…"

"We understand. Approaching the targets now."

"Tiese, it's your call. You're the flight lead, remember?" Ronye said, and she seriously thought about the situation - if they broke free to return home, they would be short on firepower, but at the same time, if they didn't, they were already short on firepower; with only two missiles and some cannon round between the two Mirages…

"Yeah. Liz, we're heading back, get ready to rearm us." She answered defiantly. Whatever the Leasathis thought they were going to achieve by this, they would ensure that they would fail…

They had to.

/-/

The skies above the Southern Border had broken into a violent clash of aircraft as the sun rose - jets roared through the hills, twisting and turning against the purple and orange sky behind them, whilst explosions thoroughly obliterated any peace that might have been left that morning…

Inside the cockpit of the F-8, Klein found himself scanning the sky amongst the sweat pouring off his mask.

They'd arrived just in the nick of time to bail Tiese and Ronye out of what had been a 15:1 engagement on the enemy's side, but now, they found themselves clearing up the last fighters.

The girls had destroyed ten aircraft between them, roughly a third of the attacking fighters, but that still left them heavily outnumbered in a 5:1 engagement - better odds than the girls had faced, but not good odds though.

He didn't have time to think of the numbers though, as a delta winged Mirage V (or was it a Nesher?) streaked past his nose, and he broke into a chase. The fight had gone from an organised attack on the girls, into a violent furball, the likes they hadn't seen since the Battle of Avalon - everywhere he looked there were aircraft: Mirages, both Vs and F1s, Phantoms, F-5s… even some F-102s, and then their four aircraft; a pair of Phantoms, an F-8 and an F-1.

It was pure, unadulterated chaos, and the only strategy they could use was one of mutual defence in this situation - you watch my back, I'll watch yours, in other words.

"Samurai, this is Liena. You have more aircraft entering the area. They appear to be strike aircraft."

"Thanks for the bad news, babe." He joked as he gained a tone on the Mirage. "Klein, Fox Two."

The AIM-9L tore away from the chin mounted pylon, and flew straight into the Mirage, scattering it to the winds; the fireball that remained falling straight to earth… "Splash one."

"Then you really won't like the next update. Bombers have been reported entering the area."

"This day just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

"Sinon and I will handle the bombers. Do stay alive, won't you?"

"Always. Besides, if I didn't, I wouldn't get to see you-"

"Boss, flirt later, fight now!" Kunimittz interrupted curtly, and he scanned for his next target - a pair of Phantoms that had survived the initial engagement, and were now attempting to break out of the "dome", as he thought of it.

Whilst they might be fleeing, and killing a fleeing opponent wasn't exactly honourable in his eyes, it was just as likely that they were attempting to put some distance between them and his guys, in order to use their Sparrows… and letting them go was far more dangerous in that case.

Pushing the throttle forward, the afterburner of the J57 behind him lit up, pushing him back into his seat as the Crusader accelerated after them. The Phantom was fast, and if the pilots opened up the throttles, he didn't stand a chance of catching up to them, but if he could catch them unaware, then he could force them to come back into the dome, and use the F-8s superior turning capability to make this a more fair fight…

He gained missile tone, the growling in his headset telling him the Sidewinder was ready to fire, and flipped the switch - the second heatseeker streaking away from the launch rail, and blasting off into the distance at near Mach 3.

About 3 miles ahead of him, he watched as a cloud of black smoke and shrapnel engulfed one of the Phantoms. Unlike the Mirage just, it didn't explode, but rather banked to one side, before the jet simply snapped in half…

"Splash a Phantom!"

The flight leader of the two ship however, was more fortunate, having spotted his wingman disintegrating and spotted him in pursuit, the Phantom broke back towards him, hell bent on vengeance seemingly…

He armed his guns, and watched as the Phantom passed overhead, almost instantly snapping the F-8 into a tight left turn to counter the tight right turn of the Phantom.

It took only a single rotation before he was on the tail of the Phantom, and putting the pipper on the larger jet, he fired. 20mm fire tore from the four Mk12 cannons in the nose, high explosive and incendiary rounds pummelling the Phantom, before the aircraft veered into a diving spiral, clearly out of control…

"That's my third!"

"Boss, you've got two more heading your way! Deuces below you."

The Deuce was a nickname for the older F-102A, a high speed interceptor really not suited for the air combat role it was finding itself in - the Deuce had no gun, and only the ineffectual AIM-4 Falcon for weapons; being one of the only weapons that fit into its tiny weapons bays other than the unguided FFAR rockets…

Ineffectual those AIM-4s may have been in a maneuvering fight, but in a head on pass as he now found himself in, those missiles were still missiles, and even lacking proximity fuses, they could still be deadly if they hit him…

The delta winged interceptor passed straight below him, and he threw the Crusader back into a tight turn to circle around onto its tail - the F-8 being a far more agile aircraft than the F-102, this wasn't as tough as it had been with the Phantom; managing it in less than a complete circle.

At around 40 degrees off his nose, the Sidewinder tone began to growl, and he let the missile go.

Seconds later, the delta-winged interceptor exploded into razor-sharp confetti for his fourth kill of the morning. "That's four!"

The second F-102, clearly now quite panicked, tried to break into a steep climb, where the F-102 was a fairly good performer as an interceptor - not a bad decision, but the F-8 was just as good there, both airframes using the same J57 engine to power them, and the F-8 was a little bit quicker.

He readied the gunsight, putting the pipper on the F-102 and pressing the trigger down for just a second. 20mm fire battered the Delta Dagger, and in front of him, a stream of flames came from the Deuce as it rolled over and fell out of its climb… "And that makes five!" He exclaimed, before getting a good look at the wing…

Those weren't Leasathi emblems.

Just who the hell were they fighting up here?!

/-/

Back at Canaveral, Liz and Silica had found themselves co-ordinating the biggest response they had ever had to - all aircraft that were airworthy were now airborne, and on the hunt for the Leasathi attackers.

She just hoped they'd be enough, because it wasn't like they'd be getting back up anytime soon!

"Liz, it's Klein, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, what is it?"

"One of those Deuces had a-"

"Did you just say Deuces? As in, F-102s?" She asked, now very confused.

"Yeah, F-102s, why?"

"The Leasathis don't have F-102s, Klein…" She pointed out, and wondered if he'd mistaken a Mirage for an F-102 instead… in the chaos, she supposed he could've seen the delta wing of a Mirage, and thought it was an F-102 instead…

"Yeah, that's what I'm gettin' at, Liz." He told her with a grim tone. "They had a completely different emblem too - gold backing with two black swords on it."

An emblem she immediately recognised from the debriefing earlier that week… "Blackguard." That answered the who of the matter, but the why was a very different question, and not to mention the how!

The kind of firepower they'd brought to the fight tonight was a fair amount for even the Osean Air Force, and these fools had been able to muster it for no real reason, whatsoever, other than as a distraction…

Just who was backing these creeps!

"Silica, get Philia, and tell her this is a Code Black. She'll know what to do."

/-/

On the ground at Bana City, Kirito had left the radio tuned to the competition frequency, in order to alleviate the boredom of being sat on the ground, ready to go on a moment's notice.

Bana wasn't the closest city to the southern border, but at the same time, nor was it the furthest - not an easy target for any attack to get to, and certainly a more difficult attack vector from Leasath than it had been from Adamas, as any attack would likely hit a wall of interceptors, AAA and SAMs that had been erected in the weeks since Chudelkin's attack on the city…

"And representing Wellow, this is A Girl Like You…" The song's hosts announced, before the radio cut back to the tower frequency. "Black Blade Lead, Black Blade Two, we have a message for you - coming from Canaveral."

Huh?

"Uhh, put it through, tower." He looked back at Argo, who looked equally confused by the sudden interruption.

"Kirito, Argo, Asuna, it's Philia. Code Black. Repeat, Code Black."

"Ya gotta be kiddin', right, Phi-chan?" For once, Argo's usually unflappable attitude broke as they all realised exactly what a Code Black meant - that they couldn't get in touch with anyone for whatever reason, and that they could confirm that there was actually a threat to their existence in place.

"Tower, this is Black Blade Lead - requesting permission to take off." He asked without thinking - if all of that was the case, then it stood to reason there would be an attack coming their way sooner rather than later.

"Uhh, Black Blades, hold, just contacting the- what the hell?!"

"Tower, come in? Tower?" He called out, spotting small flashes of light in the tower, and immediately deciding that they were going, damn the consequences! "Argo…"

"On it!"

"Asuna, we're going… now!"

"Understood." Asuna responded as their canopies closed, and the aircraft readied to taxi. If Philia had declared a code black, then there was no time to waste - they didn't know what might be coming their way, and the sooner they could be in position to react, the better!

/-/

Two minutes was all it had taken for the pair of fighters to be orbiting the city at 10,000 feet, radars on and searching for anything out of the ordinary…

"Kii-bou, I got nothin'. Skies clear, an' I can't see anythin' out there…"

"Same here, Kirito-kun, just a clear night sky here…"

Something that apparently wasn't there - no reports from any ground stations of low flying aircraft, AEW couldn't see anything, and now, nor could they. Maybe this had been a waste of time, after all…

"And now, we're at the point of the contest we know you've all been waiting for, and the judges are awarding their points-"

"Argo, mission, remember?" He pointed out, as if to tell her to get her head back in the game, before the radio suddenly crackled with a noise that definitely didn't belong in a song contest…

"And, uhh, we think there's been a technical malfunction, so we'll be back in-" The broadcast was interrupted as a noise burst through the radio; a noise you never, ever wanted to hear on a live broadcast…

Gunfire.

For a few moments afterwards, before the radio feed was cut, the noises of gunfire and screaming in the crowds were apparent, before they looked back to the Stadium in horror, their thoughts with everyone on the ground at the show…

"Kii-bou…" Argo, for once, fell quiet as they all realised the gravity of the situation. "The 302 guys and gals were down there…"

They'd been given the night off, as part of Command needing people on the ground to liaise with security and air defence forces, and it had been agreed that the squadron consisting most of fighter-bombers was the least useful in this particular situation, and so… they had been posted to the Contest.

A contest that was now turning into a horror show, as gunmen tore through the show, and-

BANG.

An explosion rocked the stadium, lighting up the night sky with an orange flash over Bana, before acrid black smoke poured into the sky, washing out the bright spotlights over the Arena…

"Black Blade Lead to all units on this frequency, get all SAR assets to the Arena now!" He almost shouted into the microphone besides his face.

"They're already scrambling, Black Blades. We've lost contact with the tower though, can you confirm the skies are clear?"

"Argo?"

"Sky's still clear. No signs of bogeys." She confirmed. "We'll stay on watch up here, in case any do try anythin'."

"Black Blades, this is Commander Diavel to all aircraft… We have a major problem. The 301 and 303 have engaged fighters and bombers near the Southern border, and we can't raise them anymore." Kirito felt a cold shudder run down his spine at the obvious implication - that they had been overwhelmed in the attack…

"Oi! We aren't dead yet!" The familiar voice of Klein broke through the radio static. "But that's not why I'm calling - those fighters weren't Leasathi, they were Blackguard."

As if summoned like a strange form of genie, another voice broke through, knowicking Klein's voice off the airwaves. "Good evening - or is it morning? - pilots. I trust you recognise your commanding officer…"

"Get off our frequency, asshole!"

"No, let him talk. I hope to hear just how much rope he's willing to give us to hang him with…" Diavel answered, an edge to his voice he'd never really heard from the man before.

"You wouldn't be so cavalier if you could see what's happening below. I never wanted it to come to this - I wanted rid of the incompetent lunatics in charge… not to murder civilians."

"You have a strange way of showing it…" Asuna grumbled.

"Perhaps, Captain Yuuki, but I am offering an olive branch right now. Your friends are in grave danger; the man in charge of the mercenaries attacking the Song Contest is exactly what you think I am."

"They were your mercenaries, sir." Argo answered back, her voice dripping with sarcasm on the sir part… "Don't tell me ya can't control yer own guys…"

"I lost control of Blackguard a long time ago, Captain Hosaka." Shasta answered with a sigh. "Now, they are her private army…"

"Who's she?"

"It doesn't matter. The lives of the hostages are the most important thing now - and you do not have time to waste. Listen, Gabriel will be monitoring transmissions - the man is paranoid in the extreme, and will not hesitate to kill anyone - but he has the members of your sister squadron. They will be executed first, I know that much."

"Where are they being held?"

"In the stadium itself." Shasta answered. "Any kind of air strike would kill everyone in there, ruling it out unless you view complete destruction as success…"

"Can you hear me? Anyone?" A new voice interrupted, and Kirito found himself recognising it… and based on the look of shock on Argo's face… so did she!

"Seven-chan?! Are ya'll still alive? What's goin' on down there?!"

"Miss Argo?"

"Seven, it's Kirito here, how copy?"

"Loud and clear." The youngest member of the 302 audibly sighed in relief. "It's just me here though…" There was a clear sense of guilt to her words there, and he knew that too well - survivor's guilt…

"What happened to everyone else?" Asuna asked.

"The gunmen took them - not without a fight though. That gunfire you heard? That was Captain Jet and Kureha trying to hold them off to protect people…" That… wasn't good, they were being talked about in the past tense. They hadn't… had they?

Clearly, Argo had come to the same conclusion as he had, based on her next question. "Are they…"

"No, they're still alive ma'am. They've been rigged up to some kind of booby trap though…" Seven explained, and he was amazed at how… calm she was. Even he would be scared out of his mind in that situation, and he was almost stoic at times…

"Like a bomb?" Argo asked.

"I'm… not even sure. It's like an old fence, or a bed frame or something. My guess would be some kind of electrical trap, but I can't say with certainty."

"Oh, I know exactly what that sociopath has planned…" There was a sense of absolute disgust in Shasta's voice as he spoke, and Kirito found himself dreading what he was going to say next… "Commander, please tell me you do not have special forces preparing to go in?"

"I can't say." Diavel answered. "It's far above my paygrade, but I'd assume they were being stood up, yes."

"Then you need to find a way to stand them down - before your friends are killed by their own side!"

/-/

For the first time in a long time, Lisbeth found herself facing a barrage of issues - the communications were patchy still, even after she'd reset almost everything she could think of, the attacks had mostly ceased, with a conclusive victory for them; having downed a total of 22 aircraft between them, and now they were having to act as the intelligence department, as the traitorous commander had shown his face again… well, not quite.

It had been his voice instead, and Diavel had been remarkably on the ball in trying to trace the communications as he spoke… though to no avail, due to the sheer scale of the communication disruption.

Still, what he'd said was concerning, and that had been before they had spoken to Seven, who was now stuck on her own, on the ground, desperately evading the armed attackers in the Stadium…

They now knew that the 302 were their captives, and if Shasta was to be believed - and for once, they had no reason to believe he was lying - they planned to allow the rescue attempt to kill them, rather than doing the dirty work themselves.

"I managed to pull up the electrical diagram of the stadium, and I think I've got something - look at that." Liz told them, slapping a large sheet of hastily annotated paper onto the table. On the paper was a wiring diagram, and technical drawings for a generator…

"It's a generator, yeah." She answered with a look that could only be read as "yes, and…?"

"Look at the way it's shown on here - that generator goes down, it switches to an external substation, and I'd bet it's the one on Ormerod Street…"

"If we can disable the substation, then…"

"I think we can stop them from killing everyone." Philia had an impressed look on her face at the thought, only to be interrupted by a notification that seemed to wipe that look off her face entirely…

"Philia?"

The ginger haired girl wore a look that could only be read as defeated. A look that said they had failed already… "We have two hours. That's it. Two hours before special forces storm the Stadium…"

Two hours to pull off an operation that, under normal circumstances, would take weeks, if not months of planning, all whilst trying not to die themselves, should any more attackers show up, and whilst trying to prevent any friendly fire too…

Oh, and roughly four hundred miles from the place involved, whilst in the middle of a communications failure too…

"Two hours to save them." Liz smirked. "We're going to be absolutely unbearable when we pull this off, you know?"

She hoped so, anyway - lives were hanging in the balance out there, and if there was one thing they had always achieved, it was fighting against the odds to pull through in some way…

Chapter Text

Chapter 31 - The Winner Takes It All

About 90 minutes earlier…

This was officially the weirdest assignment that they had had so far - monitoring the Oseavision Song Contest from the crowd.

They weren't soldiers - hell, bar very basic training, they weren't really trained for most things ground based warfare required - and this was a job that even soldiers would have raised an eyebrow at.

Still, it was technically a night off for the 302nd, all of whom had taken note of the mention of "free night out" and were probably on their way to "bankrupting a small nation" in terms of money spent on drinks...

Except him.

Partly because he was in charge, and partly because one of the goals he'd set himself during his therapy sessions was to cut back on the drinking.

An alcoholic commander of an air force squadron was a very bad idea, after all - and he didn't really fancy following in Bercouli's footsteps there…

Not that the lack of drinks was helping his mood much - being the only sober one around a bunch of drunk people generally didn't, and also because… "Cheer up Captain!" Seven beamed, hoping he wouldn't notice her trying to switch her lemonade with Kureha's gin & tonic...

Unfortunately for her, he had noticed, and swapped it back, much to Rain's amusement. "Nice try Seven, but you're still way off the drinking age yet..."

The younger girl huffed, muttering something about being old enough to fly a warplane, but not drink as she did. "Eh, you'll get there one day..." Rain patted her sister on the shoulder with an amused smile on her face.

"Wait, she's not old enough to drink either, sir!"

"Yes, but..." Actually, she had a good point - Rain looked more mature than she actually was, but besides Seven, she was very much the baby of the group, having only just turned 16.

Even Nautilus and Yuna were 17, though they didn't really drink, so it was kind of a moot point...

"It looks weird if I'm telling her not to do stuff." He remembered the time Rain had called him Dad, and the relentless teasing he received from everyone else who assumed that Rain called him that in private... "You actually look your age, Seven."

Open mouth, insert foot.

"He's right though, Seven. You look like a child, and giving children alcohol is generally frowned upon..."

"You're two years older than me." Seven pointed out blankly. "This is blatant favouritism!"

"You told her she couldn't drink, didn't you, Jet?"

He nodded at Nautilus, who simply sighed at the antics. Yuna, on the other hand, was laughing into her hand at Seven's tirade at his banning of alcohol around her.

She was still fourteen, after all, and whilst he would admit drinking at that age was pretty much par for the course where he was from, that was also not a good thing...

"So, who's your money on, sir?" Yuna asked, sitting down with them. "I'm gonna say Wellow, it's a proper ballad!"

"Isn't it usually the most cheesy music that wins this?"

Assuming Oseavision functioned like Eurovision in that regard, then yes, Nautilus was right to expect the most cheesy, gimmicky song to win...

Or ABBA.

It was one of the two, usually.

"Yeah, but this year will be different, I'll bet!" Yuna beamed, and he had no doubts she had placed a bet on them, hence the optimism about their chances of success…

"Yuna, just saying something will be different won't make it different..."

"Yup! Jet's British after all, and they say that every year in Eurovision!" Seven grinned, a proper shit eating grin that told him she was proud of getting that specific dig in...

He gave a blank look at the comment, before biting his lip to keep quiet with his response...

Rain, on the other hand, simply shook her head. "Seven..."

"What, we were all thinking it!"

"Still, it's kind of weird that we're here, right?"

"Captain, are you complaining that our night off is in the crowd for a massive singing contest, and we didn't have to pay a single credit for it, or our drinks?"

"Not complaining - I just think it's a bit weird, that's all."

"It isn't the most normal of assignments, I agree." Nautilus shrugged. "But it does beat being shot at by triple-A."

"See Captain, even Naut thinks you're being paranoid!"

"Uhh, Yuna, I didn't say that."

"I dunno, just have a bad feeling in my gut, that's all."

"I think that might be the hot dog you had earlier." Nautilus nodded.

"Not that kind of bad feeling!" Though he'd be lying if he said his stomach was completely settled after that hot dog - he had no idea what had been in that sausage, but it made the vans at fairgrounds look cheap and clean by comparison… but food was food, after all. "I can't help but feel like something's not quite right here - we get caught up in a training exercise that led to us having to observe a no-fly zone, a rebel movement in a country where such a thing is extremely unlikely to succeed, and a plot to implicate one of our friends in a terror attack on a foreign nation… and then we get sent to monitor a bloody singing contest." He summarised the past few weeks in a nutshell, getting increasingly frustrated with each word.

"We do live eventful lives, don't we?" Rain admitted. "But I think you're overthinking it, sir."

"I can see why Jet thinks we're being kept out of the way for some reason though." Nautilus countered. "After all of that, we get sent here rather than an army unit, or a police unit?"

There was only a finite amount of the interval acts that Jet could take, he decided, and in true British fashion, that was about 30 seconds in.

"I'm just going to pop out for a few. I'll be back in a bit." He told the younger members of the 302nd, deciding that he was going to have a look for Kureha, Zeliska and Itsuki, who had all gone walkies earlier in the evening, and not returned…

Which was concerning him a little - Kureha was a bit rubbish at timekeeping, so for his best friend to lose track of time was par for the course, but Zeliska was someone who was almost absurdly organised, and for her to be this late?

He was a little worried about both of them - though considering the size of the arena, it was entirely possible they had just gotten lost, and that was his hope, to be honest…

/-/

Leaving the crowd area, he found himself in the labyrinth of corridors that connected the building, and looking for the girls in this was tantamount to looking for hay in a needle stack, he reckoned…

"Are you security?" A young woman came up to him, anxiety evident on her face. "I saw someone just go into one of the staff areas, and it looked like they were up to no good! They were dragging someone with them!" She explained, panic evident in her voice.

"Kind of, but I'll go check it out anyway." He agreed, and she ran off in the other direction, as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"You're missing the interval, you know?" Kureha asked, and he felt like jumping out of his skin in shock at her sudden appearance.

"Where the bloody hell did you come from?!" He asked, recovering from his sub-orbital leap…

"Bathrooms. There was a queue." Kureha explained with a shrug. "Zeliska's back with the Idols. You look worried about something?"

"Apparently there's someone acting suspiciously in the security rooms. I know we aren't exactly the security guards, but…"

"It's our job to go check this stuff out, right?" Kureha nodded, checking her sidearm was still present. "So we should go take a look."

Jet checked his own sidearm - an M1911 hidden in the waistline of his trousers - and nodded as they walked. "You were gone 45 minutes… hell of a queue!" He joked to lighten the mood.

"Sorry we can't just pee into a bowl and be done with it…" Kureha rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Nah, I went to get some fresh air too - the noise was getting a bit too much for me."

"It is a lot, yeah." Jet admitted with a smirk. "Still, not many nights we actually get to hang out as friends anymore, is it?"

"Yeah, I miss those days…" Kureha sighed. "But I guess we're adults now, right?"

"I mean, growing up doesn't mean we can't hang out anymore, does it?"

"No, but… it just doesn't feel the same anymore." Kureha hung her head in sadness, and he placed a hand around his best friend's shoulder. "Not without him."

Jet hated just how much that stung to remember. On some nights, he was okay, he'd settle in for the night with Eydis, and all would feel somewhat normal, but on others - the ones where Eydis was on QRA, and he was alone - he'd try to settle in, and inevitably fail. The room was just too quiet without Sierra, and he had no idea how deafening silence could be before now… "I know, I still find myself talking to him."

"Glad I'm not the only one." Kureha smiled sadly, and he knew just how much Sierra's death had hurt her - she was in love with him, and she'd never gotten to say as much, their best friend dying and still believing that Kureha was in love with him instead…

Something that had never been true - he loved Kureha, he did, but it wasn't in the same way he loved Eydis. He loved her more like a sister than anything else, and that had only been reinforced after they'd found comfort in each others' arms on the first night of ACES…

That had been a year ago now, and so much had changed, he thought as they reached the security rooms. "Gamefaces on, yeah?" He told her, and Kureha nodded. "Osean Air Force, show yourselves." He called into the darkened room, to no response.

He pointed a flashlight into the room, though to no response. "Anyone?" He called in again, before light shone off something in the middle of the room…

"Oh my god…" Kureha gasped, before rushing forward to the centre of the room, and the man huddled around a backpack, a look of complete terror on his face.

"They… I'm… not the… only one." The man said in broken English, and with tears in his eyes, as he looked around the man and realised that he was attached to a lot of wires…

"Ray, move back… now!" He shouted, pulling her back as he pulled back from the poor sod.

"We've got to help him!" She hissed angrily at him, though he continued to hold her back.

"There's 10 seconds on that timer!" He told her, before mouthing that he was sorry to the captive man in his last seconds, and throwing himself to the floor as an explosion ripped through the room.

He didn't dare to look back into the room, but the screaming from across the arena told him that what the man had said about not being the only one was correct, and he tried to wipe off the bubbling white liquid off his jacket and trousers…

"What… what just happened?" Kureha asked in shock, and didn't dare to look back into the room… not that he blamed her for that, he couldn't bring himself to do so either.

Hypocritical as it sounded, it was one thing to know what the weapons you used would do to a person, it was another thing entirely to see it happen in real time…

"We're under attack." He told her grimly, feeling a slight twang of pain from his arm as he did.

"Jet!" Kureha shouted, rushing over to him, and wincing at his arm. "Your arm, look!"

He looked down at the burns that now covered his arm, and winced himself. Great, now he had even more scars…

"Stupid fucker blew himself up too early." An unfamiliar voice said as they walked in. "Knew we should've kept the detonators, rather than threatening them to do as we said…" Without thinking, the two of them threw themselves at the wall, and hoped they hadn't been spotted in that split second…

"What about the Air Force brats, aren't they gonna be an issue?"

"Ah, don't worry - the Captain's already got a plan for them when we catch them. It's foolproof too, so they wouldn't dare try and fight back…"

With a nod to Kureha, Jet drew his 1911, and aimed for the one on the left - the one closest to him - before pulling the trigger, and sending him to his demise, whilst Kureha smacked the other over the head as hard as was physically possible... "Yeah, not so foolproof, I don't think." He said, trying to hide the shaking of his hand at the fact he had just killed someone directly… "Grab their stuff, I get the feeling this is going to be less Ace Combat, more No Russian…"

Kureha, being stuck with him and Sierra over the years, had become something of a gamer too, and she immediately caught onto what he was saying. "I knew there was a reason I hated first person shooters…"

Kitting up with the weapons and body armour that the two dead goons had been wearing, Jet found himself desperately hoping the others were safer than they would be…

/-/

Back in the arena, Yuna found herself wondering exactly where the two captains had gone - Captain Zeliska telling them that Kureha had seen him walking around, and ran after him, but having not seen or heard from them since…

Or Itsuki, come to think of it, but to be honest, that had surprised no one - Captain Itsuki was a loner by definition, and often disappeared for hours on end anyway.

"They'll be missing the best bits!" She whined. "All the suspense of the voting, all the funny outfits…"

"Aren't those outfits meant to be culturally significant?" Naut asked.

"Ahem, someone turned up dressed in a sack once - it's still funny, even if it is significant-" She explained, before an explosion could be heard somewhere in the arena, and for a moment, the crowd fell silent…

Before pandemonium erupted around them, as people started screaming and running for the nearest doors… "Please, stay seated!" The announcer shouted, desperately trying to be listened to over the chaos engulfing the arena… "Oh, chr-" He managed to get out before a gunshot rang through the microphone, and for the first time, Yuna found herself legitimately terrified.

This was supposed to be a quiet mission, not… Well, a terrorist attack!

There was an uneasy silence between the members of the 302nd as they sat there in disbelief - this wasn't really happening, was it?

"Where did Rain and Seven go?" She asked quietly.

"Now, everyone, be good little hostages, and no one else has to die!" The voice came across the tannoy - a voice of complete sadism, and definitely not one that should be trusted to uphold his comments…

"Snacks." Naut answered calmly, though she could tell there was genuine fear hiding in his voice at that; the thought that their friends might be caught up in the attack too…

"What… Do we even do?" She asked, waiting for an answer from anyone - command, Jet, Zeliska, Naut - just an answer of some kind…

"There's… there's people here who need our help." Zeliska told them, though she could tell that the older woman was equally as caught off guard by this whole thing, and finding herself struggling to step up as a leader, especially in times like this. "If we can help them, then we do - if not, we try to get people out of here!"

And so, they got to work, heading out into the corridors where the explosions had come from…

/-/

Rain had never really imagined what being in a terrorist attack would feel like - it simply wasn't something she ever considered as a possibility, as the odds of such an event in Japan were infinitesimally small, albeit not zero.

Right now though, she found herself in such an event, as people by the stall could attest - the ones who were still alive, anyway…

That wasn't her first priority though, she thought, stumbling around with her senses still thrown out of balance from the explosion - where was Nanairo?!

"Seven!" She called out, amidst the groans and screaming, just one more voice lost amongst the noises of the damned. "Where are you?!"

No answer - but then, even if there was, she couldn't say she'd have been able to hear it over the noise of the aftermath anyway…

Eventually though, her eyesight had returned just enough to be able to see the carnage laid out in front of her… and she felt sick to her core. These people had just been enjoying a night out, and now, many of them were lying there, broken, bruised, bloodied, and in some cases, with limbs scattered…

She caught a glimpse of her sister though, tending to a wounded woman and her child on the ground, and rushed over. She didn't know much in the way of first aid, but anything was still better than nothing, she thought as she looked over the woman.

"It'll be alright, help will be coming, I promise!" Seven told the woman on the ground, before the noise of gunshots rang through the microphones…

"Please, just… look after my son, don't let him die too." The woman almost pushed her infant son away from her, the young child - probably no older than 4 years old, if that - crying as he was pushed towards them, spared from seeing his mother passing away in front of him…

"We need to find the Captain." Seven said, keeping a surprising level of calm given the circumstances… and the child they now had in tow. "Did-did he say where he was going?" Though, as calm as she was, the nerves in her voice were still apparent.

She shook her head, interrupted by more gunfire that caused both of them to pause dead in their tracks… where did that even come from?

"Seven, I'm going to see if I can find the captains! Try and raise anyone else, see if we can get help down here…" Rain rushed on ahead, trying to look for any sign of where they might have been - if ever there was a bad time to have a heart-to-heart, in the middle of a terror attack was definitely up there, she thought!

Until she came face to face with two soldiers, wearing very distinctively Leasathi camouflage… and speaking in English. "Well, this brat made it easy on us - she ran right to us…"

Rain couldn't even stammer out a response in the time before a bullet ripped through one of them, covering her in their blood and viscera from the gaping hole where their forehead had been… "Wh-what…"

"Rain!" The other one of the soldiers - still completely shocked - turned round, and suffered the same fate as his colleague, falling back to the floor. In his place, Kureha ran up to her, now in full Leasathi body armour and with a Leasathi Uzi around her neck, giving her a hug… an uncomfortable one given the armour. "You're okay, you're okay…"

"Th-thanks…" She stammered out, returning the hug as Jet approached her.

"Where's everyone else?" He asked, kneeling down to check she wasn't wounded.

"Seven-she's… helping the injured. The others… I don't know, sir." She answered, and he sighed. "Okay, so that's at least two places they could-"

More gunfire came over their heads, forcing them to take cover, before Jet and Kureha returned fire as best as they could - though it was painfully apparent neither were any good at FPS games, she thought to herself as she pilfered the flashbangs and Makarov off one of the dead soldiers. "Sir, ma'am, on my signal, fall back!"

"Signal? What signal!" Jet asked, deeply confused by the statement as he ran out of bullets in that mag… "Bollocks!"

"You won't miss it, sir!" She shouted to him, throwing one of the flashbangs with such a good shot that it fell on one of their assailants head's, before blinding him and the rest of the soldiers firing on them. "Now!"

"When did you- never mind!" Jet went to ask her when she'd gotten them, but clearly decided running was a better use of his energy - probably rightly so, she thought as they fell back.

It was then that they encountered a problem - if they fell back too far, the soldiers would march straight through to the wounded… and who knew what would happen to them then. Terrorists like this didn't tend to show mercy to the people they'd just attacked, she knew that much, and whilst they were armed… the same couldn't be said for Seven and the others.

"Sirs, if we keep falling back…"

Thankfully, both of them caught onto her implication quickly, and pushed a load of debris out in front of them to form a makeshift blockade. She looked at their handiwork briefly - it wasn't enough to repel a full on army, but against the small number of attackers, it'd probably hold them back long enough to buy Seven some time to move everyone out the way…

"Well, here goes nothing…" Jet sighed, as he poked his rifle through a hole in the blockade…

"Really not how I pictured this ending, y'know?"

"Rain, go and help evacuate everyone. We'll hold them off and buy you two time to get everyone back."

"But sir-"

"No arguments, Rain. I'm pulling rank here - don't you dare die with us! That is an order!" She stood still for a moment, completely shaken by Jet's statement - he never tried to order them to do anything… and so, if even he was ordering her to do something, it meant that she wasn't going to disobey him!

And run she did - they were giving their all to do what they could, and so would she…

/-/

It had taken a few minutes, and her legs feeling they would fall off, but Rain had finally reached the makeshift medical station, where Seven, now with the help of Yuna, Nautilus and Zeliska, was doing her best to treat the wounded, and evacuate those who weren't to a position of safety.

"Rain, thank god you're still kicking!" Zeliska sighed in relief. "Where are the others?"

"Jet and Kureha are buying us time to get everyone out." She told them, trying to ignore the sense of guilt at leaving her friends to die in the onslaught against them as she did.

"Wait, buy us time for what?" Nautilus asked, bandaging one of the civilians as he did.

"There's a lot more of them." Rain told them. "And they're coming for us."

"Bombers?" Seven asked, nerves now creeping into her voice.

"No, soldiers - they're armed to the teeth. I saw them… shooting civilians."

"Shit." Zeliska swore under her breath. "Then we have to get everyone to safety, and we needed to do it ten minutes ago!"

"Ma'am, with all due respect… Where's safe here? If Rain's right, they're coming through that way, sure, but they won't be the only ones." Nautilus pointed out.

"There's an exit out that way." One civilian explained - a young woman wearing some kind of uniform for one of the fast food stands. "But it's not the most direct route - it's a fire escape that leads to the station's underpass. We used it for work all the time." The young woman explained.

"Okay, that's our exit then." Zeliska answered. "We'll possibly need to hold them off down here too, so any kind of defences we can erect, let's get to it…"

/-/

Jet wondered if he'd found himself in the afterlife for a split second.

They had to have died, fighting off the attackers, didn't they? Against overwhelming odds, the two of them stood little chance of fending them off successfully… and yet, they weren't dead?

Tied to a pair of rusty old mattresses, and bedframes, yes, but not dead. "Ray?"

"Still here…" She groaned from next to him. Like him, she found herself covered in metal and wires of various kinds, and he really didn't like where this was going… "Ugh, trust us to get the terrorists with a bondage fetish…"

He let out a short laugh at the comment, before struggling against the wires, and realising something else - it wasn't just the pair of them here, it was everyone in the 302, bar two conspicuous absences…

Seven and Itsuki.

"Some plan this was." One of the terrorists, a middle aged man with a bald patch said. "You missed two of them!"

"In his defence, one of them was a slippery little bitch." Another said. "And the other… Well, Arsenal Squad has gone after him."

"Well, there goes any chance of using him as leverage then. If he's dragged back here in ten pieces, I'll be surprised…" The older man rolled his eyes, before realising they were now conscious again. "Oh, and our guests are awake again. Good."

"Funny definition of hospitality - where I'm from, you offer a guest a cup of tea, not tetanus!" He snarled.

"Oh, Captain Edmondson, I presume."

"How the hell did you know that…" He asked, in complete shock.

"Our employer wanted you alive if possible - along with Captain Kirigaya, but he doesn't seem to be here… the others are expendable to them, though."

"Fuck you!" He lashed out, pulling against the wires like a chained up beast might when agitated.

"Manners cost nothing, young man…" The man laughed, before hitting him in the chest with something solid, solid enough to wind him at least. "Something you should've been taught by now, Captain…" The man smirked as he said his rank…

"They don't cost anything." Jet corrected with his own smirk, whilst gasping for air from being winded... "If you do intend to butcher civilians… could you at least not butcher the English language whilst you're at it…"

"Yes, your wit is unfortunately the key defining factor about you…" He responded. "Still, let us see how your wit can be used to identify your body when your friends come to rescue you, shall we?"

"Wh-what?" Kureha stammered.

"Those wires aren't just for show, you know… they're our insurance policy. Your friends attack us… and you die, with 750 volts of direct current through you." He sighed theatrically. "Of course, our employer will be annoyed… but not as much as you will be. Shocking behaviour, I know." He smirked at his joke, and it finally dawned on him just how much danger they were truly in…

The moment Osean forces were detected making any kind of movements towards them… and they were done for.

/-/

Back to the present…

Kirito had heard some insane plans in his admittedly short life so far, but what Liz was suggesting…

It was absolutely at the top of his list, and if the look on Asuna's face was anything to go by, he wasn't the only one who thought it too.

As did Argo, clearly. "Okay, so let me get this straight - you want us to attack a generator on a street corner, to try and shut off the power to the stadium, and we have how long to do this in?"

"107 minutes." Liz told them without hesitating.

"That's insane." Asuna summarised bluntly. "Even if we refuel now, we'd struggle to be able to load up weapons for that task in time, not to mention that neither of our planes can really handle that kind of precision…"

"True, but there's one thing at Bana that can do it, and I know it's fueled up and ready to go…"

"What's that?" Asuna asked, and if he was honest… he wasn't sure what Argo was referring to either…

"The A-X Test program is based at Bana!" Argo exclaimed, and it finally clicked… those A-10s out on the tarmac! They were still test aircraft…

"What's AX mean?"

"There's a pair of A-10s - one single seater, and an A-10B. They've been doin' testing for the past month." Argo explained, and suddenly, this didn't feel quite as insane anymore. "They've got a load of Snakeeyes hangin' off 'em already, an' if that gun can kill a tank… I'd bet on it against a generator."

"Let's just hope they don't mind us borrowing their planes then." Kirito sighed as they began to sprint off to the apron, and the pair of A-10s out there…

/-/

Lifting off, Kirito had to admit it felt strange flying an aircraft that wasn't their own Tomcat, or even a Phantom…

In fact, the A-10 felt almost like flying a small bus in his mind - such was the performance and avionics gap between it and their Tomcat; the large TF34 turbofans being efficient and resilient to damage… but not exactly powerful in the way that their TF30s were, and the straight wing almost made him wince at how thick it was…

And then there was the gun protruding out of the nose.

The GAU-8A was a six-barrelled 30mm cannon that could only be described as an insane piece of engineering - a 620 lb gun that measured only slightly less than the length of a small car of this era, firing 30x173mm shells at a rate of up to 4200 rounds per minute, containing depleted uranium at whatever was unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of a burst from the gun… and it was that gun that the A-10 was built around.

Fortunately for them, the A-10B's gun was loaded - it was everything else that wasn't, other than a cluster of smoke rockets for target marking, betraying the A-10Bs intended role as a forward air controller, and all-weather strike version of the rather spartan A-10A.

"Okay, Ki–bou, Aa-chan, our target's in roughly 15 minutes, on the corner of Ormerod Street and Windward Way. Danger's gonna be very close - there's a load of houses right next to it!"

"Okay, Argo. I'll give it a burst with the gun when we get there, and hopefully, that should be enough to knock it out."

"Wouldn't bet on it, Kii-bou." Argo sighed. "There's a redundant system behind it - only way we're takin' it out is by total destruction."

"Ugh, of course it wouldn't be that easy…" He grumbled. "I'll mark the target with smoke rockets - Asuna, you have Snakeeyes aboard, right?"

"Twelve of them, yeah. That'll be enough, right?"

"Enough t' level the whole street, I reckon!"

"Let's try not to level the whole street though." Kirito reminded his backseater. "How long have we got?"

"37 minutes."

He did the maths in his head quickly - that'd give them around 15 minutes to ensure their shots landed in the correct place, but that really wasn't going to be long should they need to buy themselves more time…

"Okay then."

"Kirito, Asuna, Argo - it's Liz. They're launching the operation early!" Liz shouted down their radios. "New start time is 0035." He checked the clock in his cockpit:

00:17.

18 minutes to the start of the operation, and the imminent demise of their friends.

"What's our new ETA Argo?"

"00:33, guys and gals."

"This is going to be unbelievably close." Asuna admitted. "Will we even make it?"

"We have to. Even if it means we break the planes." Kirito told them. "Liz, if you can buy us even 5 minutes, we'll owe you big time."

"I'll do what I can." She answered back, not even a hint of snark in there. It really was serious now, he realised, if Liz had lost any sense of snarkiness… "Good luck out there, all of you. Bring them back alive, will you?" She signed off, and they were left alone with that bombshell dropped in their laps…

17 minutes now… with an ETA into the combat box of 15 minutes still. This wasn't going to be close, this was going to be on the razor's edge for if they could even pull this off…

/-/

In the stadium, Seven found herself hiding away, and hoping that the footsteps wouldn't give her away in the silence surrounding the main atrium.

It was horrific to think just how quickly the night had gone from one of celebration, to one that would inevitably go down in the history books as one of disaster… and hopefully, not the disaster that would claim her friends' lives as it went from bad to worse.

"That little brat has to be hiding around here somewhere." A younger soldier said to his older colleague beside him as they searched for her. "Still, I don't like this."

"A job's a job."

"Sure, but this is just terrorism. Imagine the outrage if someone else did this to us…"

"I'd like to keep a clear conscience, thanks, so no." The older one shrugged. "Besides, we're getting paid handsomely."

"To bomb civilians." The younger one pointed out.

"I did plenty of that in the last war. It's a lot easier when they can't shoot you back." He said callously, and even his colleague looked disturbed by that admission.

"Easier? What if it was your family down there?"

"War is hell." He shrugged again. "Just so happens that we're the demons in this one."

"I'm not a religious man, but one day, we'll have to face our reckoning for what we've done here."

"Oh I know… I'll just throw myself at their mercy and claim I was forced. It worked last time." The older one grinned. "Even got a cushy job out of it…"

Seven continued to listen in on their conversation with a sense of bile rising in her stomach, just hearing the older one dismiss everything as "just war" - this wasn't war! This was murder, and at least the younger one had the self-awareness to recognise that…

The older one was just a violent thug looking for opportunities to hurt people, and found a way to evade justice for his crimes…

Not that it lasted long, as a bullet struck him in the heart - or whatever she supposed functioned as a heart, because it was clear he didn't have one… - and he collapsed to the floor. "What the-"

The younger one fell just as quickly, and Seven found herself looking for the shooter, but failing to find them, until a familiar face revealed themselves…

"Captain Itsuki!"

"Just… Itsuki will do, Seven." He rolled his eyes, and put away the rifle he'd just killed the two soldiers with. "I take it we are the only two left out here?"

"Y-yeah, and we won't have back up either."

"We won't?" He asked, legitimate surprise in place of his usual sarcasm. "I doubt the Osean commanders do not think this is a serious event…"

"They… they have everyone held as hostages. They'll electrocute them if any attempts are made to rescue them." She explained, and for the first time, there was a flash of emotion across Itsuki's face - anger… and it was terrifying, she'd decided.

"Then we will have to create an opening ourselves, won't we?" He told her. "If we could cut the power, then perhaps-"

"It won't work. Liz told me there's an uninterruptible back up generator."

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath in frustration, before her radio crackled into life… "I never said that, Seven - I said that you'd need to take both of them out…" Liz told them.

"If it isn't a relief to hear a friendly voice right now…" Itsuki said, sarcasm still missing from his voice. "So, if we take down the primary generator…"

"Kirito and Asuna are en route to disable the backup." Liz told them. "But this'll be tight - like, unthinkably tight."

"How tight, Lisbeth?"

"Around 60 seconds in it." Liz answered. "60 seconds to destroy that generator at last estimate."

Itsuki gritted his teeth at that thought. "Then yes, tight would be a good assessment. Let us hope they make it before the fireworks begin..."

/-/

In the air, Kirito found himself pushing the throttles as far forward as he physically could - to the point that he was fairly sure they'd discover them broken in some way from the force exerted on them, as they rushed to reach the operations area.

The A-10 may have been many things, but a hot rod of an aircraft, it was not, and right now, he found himself hating whoever had decided to prioritise that stupid gun up front over power…

"Argo." He didn't need to ask his back seater the question they both knew he was going to ask.

"We've got a 10 knot tailwind, ETA is now 00:32."

That was probably the best news they were going to get today, that they were being given a helping hand by nature itself…

"Bad news tho', weather's deterioratin' rapidly. Met reports are that we'll be gettin' washed as we blow the generator."

"Great, as if this wasn't going to be difficult enough already…" He rolled his eyes in frustration - a rain squall was not the ideal conditions for a precision gun run, especially not when the A-10 was far from a precision striker; more like a flying tank than that…

"Liz, please give us some good news…" Argo pleaded with their mechanic for something - anything!

"Some good news, I was able to get in touch with the AC-130 they've bought for CAS. They've agreed to target the generator, but they reckon you'll need to still hit the damned thing to guarantee a kill."

"Not even going to ask why they've bought in an AC-130 for this, but sure, some good news at least." Kirito shook his head. "Any news from the ground?"

"Seven and Itsuki are in the generator room now, they're just waiting on your go, Spooky." Liz told them, before the radio transmission was interrupted by the circling gunship.

"Spooky One to allied aircraft, we're in position. Targeting the generator on Ormerod Street now." Despite being minutes away, the noise of the gunship opening up with its 105mm howitzer was still audible over the microphone, and he was sure he could feel it in his bones, such was the force…

"Target neutralised - I'm seeing fires on the generator. The stadium's gone dark too, power's completely out for an entire city block!"

"Spooky, good effect on target - our people on the ground have confirmed the whole place has gone dark!"

For the first time in about three hours, Kirito felt himself breathing easily - and even laughing to himself a little bit in relief… "Liz, is that it?"

"Spooky to allied-oh christ!" A frantic radio transmission came across, and Kirito found himself regretting his relief in that moment… because he knew this was far from over, if that call was anything to go by…

And the flash of light in the night sky didn't exactly reassure him on that one either…

"Observers on the ground are reporting that the terrorists are attempting to flee - looks like you'll still be needed after all, we've got a new situation on our hands."

"You have got to be kidding…" Asuna sighed. "What is it?"

"They bought tanks. And helicopters."

"They're very well armed terrorists, aren't they?!"

"Seven reckons they're mercenaries. I'd be inclined to agree now. Spooky, can you hear me? Spooky, come in…"

"We just saw a flash, right?"

"And anti-aircraft artillery, I'm guessing…" Asuna groaned, having come to the same realisation.

"Yeah, I can't raise Spooky anymore - watch yourselves out there, I don't know what you'll be walking into out there…"

Thankfully, their A-10B was an all-weather version of the aircraft - albeit an experimental one - and so, he hoped that would make their job of hunting the fleeing mercenaries a little bit easier than the job of striking the generator had been… and they had Argo to help pick out their targets.

"Kii-bou, I have something on the infrared sensors - two M42 Dusters moving along the A462, escorting two vehicles by the looks of it."

"Not for much longer." He told Argo, using the sensors to gain a visual on the two anti-aircraft tanks, before diving on them and waiting for them to attempt to light him up with their 40mm Bofors guns.

Some might have called it insane to allow them to shoot first, but in his mind, it allowed him to positively confirm that he wasn't just about to blow up some unfortunate civilian driving along the road, and he was soon proven right as 40mm fire exploded around them in the dive, lighting up the lightly armoured anti-aircraft vehicles…

A burst of the GAU-8 was all it took to make sure that the tanks were no longer a threat to anyone or anything, the burning hulks and shattered remains of the Dusters lining the side of the road as they pulled out of the attack triumphant… "Liz, their triple-A is neutralised."

"Good going, looks like the troops are going in now…" Kirito could only hope that their plan hadn't been in vain, else they'd be hunting down a lot more mercenaries in the coming days… "Special forces are confirming everyone's alive - plus about 50 other hostages."

A familiar voice broke into the comms chatter above Bana, on their frequency... "Kids, how copy?"

"Commander? We copy, yeah."

"Good, Fanatio's just filled me in on all the details - and I've got a message from the commander of the experimental wing…" A pang of dread came across him… "He says "How do you like the new toys?". Cheeky bastard's happy at how they've performed though, so he'll overlook the fact you stole them this once…"

There was an audible laugh from behind him, as Argo laughed and sighed in relief at the fact that tonight was over - even if everything else was just beginning, he reckoned…

/-/

As they found their fates rapidly approaching, the knowledge that the Osean commanders would do something, rather than nothing, and almost certainly kill them in the process, there had been a lot of tearful farewells said between the members of the 302nd - with Nautilus and Yuna finally confessing to each other, whilst death seemed inevitable.

Jet had done his best to try to wriggle free of the improvised electric rack they had all found themselves tied to, but it had been mostly in vain, and it had earned him a small beating from their captor when it had been noticed…

As had the orbiting C-130 overhead.

"Oh so reliable…" The man holding them hostage told them, before he flipped the switch that would invariably fry them…

And yet absolutely nothing happened.

Except for the entire room being plunged into darkness with an explosion nearby… "Which moron wired this up!" The captor shouted, and Jet couldn't help but smirk as the darkness blanketed them.

Saved by safety violations - he was never complaining about health and safety again…

"A dead one." A very familiar voice said over a speaker. "As are all of you."

"Itsuki?" He whispered, as gunfire tore through the room, the brief flash of light being tempered by splashes of blood from the dead attackers… "Bloody hell…"

"Get the Commander, n-agh!" The previously arrogant torturer gasped out as a round hit him square in what looked to be his throat, and he fell straight to the ground…

"The electrical supply has been disrupted, and the attackers are deceased." Itsuki told someone, though he had no idea who. "Lisbeth, I suspect the ringleaders are fleeing."

In the silence of the room, Lisbeth's response was audible too… "Kirito, Argo and Asuna are on it. Special forces are approaching the stadium now, so I'd make sure you've dropped your weapons, else you'll be targeted too."

"Understood."

"Did-did we just… survive this?" Rain asked, clearly in shock.

"I… think we did." Nautilus said quietly, though he could tell there was something in the younger boy's voice - almost like a regret, or nerves?

"Uhh… what happens now though?" Kureha asked, pulling against the cables wrapped around her. "We just wait here for rescue?"

"Rescue's here, ma'am!" Seven beamed - literally. She shone a flashlight in their faces, checking that they were still there, and started de-wiring Kureha. Or at least, he presumed she was doing that, he couldn't actually see anything except for the artefacts in his eyes from the impromptu flash blinding…

With Kureha freed, the task of untangling the remaining hostages began - a difficult task in pitch black darkness, he soon realised as she fiddled with the wires wrapped around him…

Still, at least that nightmare was over for now - even if the real nightmare was probably just beginning…

/-/

Returning to Bana, Kirito had only barely gotten out of the cockpit before the adrenaline wore off, and looking at how Asuna was leaning against the side of her A-10, he reckoned she was just as worn out by the whole mission too.

Normally, a 90 minute mission wouldn't have been anywhere near as bad, but when so many lives were at stake… the adrenaline was pumping like mad, but once it was over? It felt like the sugar crash from hell, he thought to himself as he staggered over to Asuna.

"I can't believe we pulled that off." He told her, and she started leaning against him.

"I miss my Eagle." She said, her usual composure completely absent. "But yeah, we did just do the impossible, didn't we?" She smiled wearily. "Can we go to sleep now?"

"At ease, you two. Honestly, I'm impressed with all of you tonight."

"Hmm?" Asuna hummed from her position against his shoulder. "What else happened, sir?"

"Leasath took credit for backing the mercenary attack - not the one at the stadium, but the one on the Southern Border."

"Uhh, what attack on the Southern Border, sir?"

"This is going to be a long debrief, kids, so sorry about that…" Bercouli sighed, as the noise of helicopters approaching overshadowed any conversation they might have had, and despite the adrenaline crash, they rushed over towards the landing MH-53s before anything else could be said.

/-/

The evacuation of all the hostages at the stadium had taken a fair amount of time, to the point that daylight was now starting to break over the coastal city as they returned to the base, and unsurprisingly, most of the squadron members chose to go to bed - though how many of them would be sleeping was a different matter entirely.

Everyone had been given a once over at the stadium, just to check that they weren't a lot more injured than they said they were, but thankfully, the worst injuries were a broken nose and a black eye in Jet's case.

Still, Yuna thought, there was a distinct change in the dynamic between the squadron - and especially between herself and Nautilus.

He had basically admitted that he loved her, and hated himself for not saying it sooner, and the worst part to her was that she had the exact same feelings… and yet, even on their deathbed, she couldn't bring herself to say it.

What did that say about her, she wondered as she sat on her bed, moping around. Actually, it was a very simple answer in her mind, she knew - she was a coward, plain and simple.

She'd told him she loved him too, and that was entirely true, but she couldn't bring herself to say goodbye like that, to a future they could've had…

And yet-

Knock, knock, knock.

A knocking at the door interrupted her moping. "It's just me, Yuuna." Nautilus called out to her. "Can-can I come in?"

"Yeah!" She called back, putting on a smile and a brave face, so he couldn't see the coward she was.

He walked in, and it was clear that both of them were still a bit shaken up from the whole affair… "I just wanted to check that you're okay. I know I said some-"

Her voice dropped low. "What you said, did you mean it?" She asked, though she was sure she already knew the answer - Eiji wasn't someone to lie like that, much less when they were in danger.

"Of course I did, Yuna!" He responded, almost with a bit of annoyance in his response. "I'm a coward though - I was too scared to say anything in case it changed things between us…"

"Eiji, you idiot, of course it would've - we'd be dating then." She told him bluntly. "Do… do you not want that?"

"No! I mean yes! I mean… I don't even know what I mean!" Nautilus smacked himself in the forehead. "What I said, I meant it - I want to spend my life with you, Yuuna. I want to be with you every step of the way, and I don't know what label you'd give that, but… that's what I want."

For the first time in a while, she completely froze at just how forthcoming Eiji had been, saying all of that…

"Eiji…" She said, trying to think of how she'd respond, before deciding on her response. She leaned over, into him, and began to kiss him, much to his apparent (but brief) surprise.

It didn't take long before she felt him leaning into her kiss, and his arms wrapping tentatively around her back…

"I want to stay with you too, whatever you want to call it." She told him as they pulled back slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it before now…"

Eiji was easy to read. When he was confused, he had a tick that meant he blinked rapidly, before the entire spectrum of emotions crossed his face, all at once. This was one of those moments… "Eh? What are you sorry for?"

"Being such a coward I couldn't say it then…"

"Yuuna, if you're a coward, then I'm a… umm…"

"You at least had the balls to say it."

"Yuuna, I thought I was going to die. I wouldn't have said it if it weren't for an imminent fear of death… wouldn't exactly call that ballsy."

"How about we both agree we couldn't spit it out?" She smirked.

"That's definitely true at least." Eiji nodded with a faint smile. "So… Do you fancy dessert? My treat."

Maybe there was no label for what they were, but that didn't matter to her, not as long as they were together, anyway…

Oh, and whilst there was cake on offer too.

That was always a bonus!

"You can't spit out your feelings, but you definitely know how to treat a lady, Eiji…" She grinned, as he went red and started to stammer as he tried to respond…

/-/

Now looking like he had volunteered as a crash test dummy (and feeling a bit like it too, after Eydis had had Alice deliver a message to him… one that had apparently consisted of a hug and a punch to the gut… though Alice had "kindly" admitted that last part was her own message for making Eydis worry.), Jet found himself wondering if his day could get any worse.

8am briefings were already a bit rubbish as was, but after a night where you were tied to an electric deathtrap, he'd have thought they could at least have some rest.

Unfortunately, there was no rest for the wicked, and right now, the situation was unfolding quickly on the Southern Border.

The 301 and 303 had fought off against an air attack launched by mercenary forces, scoring an impressive amount of kills against a numerically superior enemy, but that had led to a realisation:

Those mercenaries were backed by someone, and whilst Leasath claimed credit for it, a lot of their equipment had been ex-Osean, which raised even more questions in their eyes…

That had been the simple bit though - the mercenaries at the stadium were definitely not your standard rent-a-thugs, he'd discovered quickly; they were too well trained for that, and if Seven was to be believed, one of them had been a war criminal in the last war…

Though he supposed it was pretty much par for the course with mercenaries being war criminals, if he remembered his history lessons properly.

It was telling that Leasath hadn't claimed credit for that attack, almost like they knew there was only so far they could push the Osean public, and a few minor intrusions into their airspace could be overlooked, especially if it was viewed by other nations as a retaliation for the downing of a civilian airliner…

The attack on the Oseavision Song Contest though? That was a very different kettle of fish, and very few nations would have suggested restraint after such an attack.

He couldn't help but wonder now, how many people's games were they now the pawns in, because he'd lost count of just the ones they knew of…