Chapter 19

 NINETEEN

Trigger watched the Erusean F-16s taxi into their shelters from Colonel Andre’s Office. It was the second time in a week that Trigger had been to Farbanti Air Base, He could see the C-1 that they arrived in was still parked on the ramp awaiting orders.

Colonel Andres sat behind his desk diligently working on his computer. Trigger could feel the annoyance in the air as the two men stood in silence.

According to the little the Colonel revealed to Trigger, this had been Andre’s office even before the war. Trigger was silently taken aback at how barren the room was. Save for the cheap carpet and furniture, the walls were painted in a faded blue color, however unlike most personal offices of senior staff members, his lacked any decorations. No awards, Family photos, war photos or even a picture of his plane adorned the walls.

 

How boring. Trigger thought.

 

Trigger cleared his throat. “So, Colonel, has Farbanti Air Base always been this busy?”

“Classified” Andres grunted.

So much for that idea.

“I was told you were a Pilot. Mind if I ask which aircraft.”

“Tomcats” Andres said again.

Getting somewhere.

“Oh, Mind if I ask which model? I had a friend who was a Tomcat pilot.” Trigger inquired

Andres glared at Trigger, then turned his attention back to his computer.

Or maybe not

 

Trigger turned his attention back to the ramp. He could see a sizeable force gathered around the Base. However, what caught his eye was the predominant makeup of the force.

Most of the F-16’s he saw were painted in a two-tone brown and dark green color, while a small handful were in the standard three tone brown, green and tan livery for the EAF. As well, He could see a sizable force of F-5 Tiger II air-superiority fighters in three tone brown camouflage.

“Correct me if I’m wrong Colonel, but I thought the Erusean Air Force retired the F-5 already.” Trigger asked.

Andres snorted and ignored the question.

“Colonel, if its alright with you, may I talk to some of your pilots at the base here?” Trigger asked.

“Fine. Stick to the common areas and don’t get in the way.” Andres said dismissively.

Taking his leave, Trigger walked down to the ramp from the office. He could see the Viper pilots who had just returned huddled together smoking. Despite being from a different country, Trigger was surprised with how close their uniforms were to Osea’s. Instead of the olive drab their flight suits were a darker blue, but all the gear looked remarkably similar, including same HGU-55 helmet he wore.

Trigger walked over and held up his hand to introduce himself.

“Bon jour!” Trigger said confidently, the words not quite forming correctly. Damn it! I knew I should have paid more attention to Cossette’s language classes Trigger thought as he saw the Erusean pilots start to snicker.

The lead Pilot held his hand up to settle down his compatriots. “Ah, you must be the Osean given free reign here, is that correct?” He asked, his common held no accent and was remarkably close to Cossette’s.

“That would be me.” Trigger replied shrugging holding out his hand to shake.

The head Erusean Pilot took it and pulled Trigger closer grinning. “Well, unlike these bunch of dick bags, I’ll at least stick to the same language, so you don’t butcher mine.”

Trigger nodded sheepishly “Sorry, never really was good at languages.”

“Not a problem Major. The names Captain Josh Esparza, but most people call me Asher.” The pilot introduced himself.

He was a darker Hispanic man with striking features, slightly taller than Trigger in height and, by Trigger’s guess, he was in his late twenties or early thirties.

“What’s the story behind ‘Asher’?” Trigger asked.

The other Erusean pilots gave each other glances before breaking into a fit of snickering again.

Asher rolled his eyes. “Well you see. Turns out when you accidentally drop a blue body on short final which causes the hill to erupt in flames. You tend to get a name that sticks. Not my fault that Indoc is in the driest part of the country and the concrete bomb just happened to create a wildfire that almost burned the base down.” He explained.

Trigger laughed at the story. “Well, at least you didn’t accidentally fire the gun in closed formation when trying to hit your transmit button.”

“Ah, Hence the name ‘Trigger’ I take it?” Asher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Trigger nodded. “Yep. Stuck with me ever since.”

“Well then your alright by my books Trigger. Any reason you decided to come down here with all us low life Viper pilots? I thought you and Pépé would be buddy-buddy coming from similar airframes and all?” Asher asked.

Trigger shrugged. “Yeah, Colonel Andres isn’t really my biggest fan. Don’t know why. That seems to be a running theme this week.”

Asher slapped Trigger on the back. “Don’t take it too hard. Pépé Is kind of a dick to everyone.”

Trigger changed the subject. “So, I have to ask. Most of these F-16’s isn’t the recent blocks are they?”

Asher and the other pilots gave an impressed look. “Surprising coming from the Eagle driver to know so much about our planes. We should feel honored.”

“Not really, my first operational squadron was on the Block 50’s.” Trigger dismissed.

“Ah, explains why you’d notice it then. Yeah we had to dust off a lot of the older Viper-A’s since the end of the war.” Asher noted.

Trigger studied the planes closer, Compared to the later F-16C he was used to, the Erusean F-16A’s had a smaller tail and stabilators, along with the intake being different to accommodate the older Pratt and Whitney F100-PW-200, which also sounded different to Trigger compared to the F110-GE-129.

“So, if I had to guess, your rationing the last of your C models?” Trigger asked

A female pilot nodded “Yes, chefs de vol et” She paused embarrassed. “Flight leaders and night combatants only.” She repeated, her accent was closer to the one’s Trigger had heard from the Volsagian Air Force’s pilots, the words seemed awkward for her to say.

Asher nodded in confirmation. “Yep, brand new Air Force for a brand-new country. Stuck flying the equipment our fathers and grandfathers flew to keep our skies secure.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group before Asher clapped his hands. “Laissez-moi montrer l'Osean. Vous vous préparez tous pour un débriefing dans une heure!” He barked to the gathered pilots.

Trigger watched them shout “Oui capitan” in response before falling out and dispersing.

“Well Major, if you will allow me to show you around our humble little airplane?” Asher asked, motioning for Trigger to follow him.

“So if I may ask, whats with the accent, or lack thereof?” Trigger asked

Asher laughed “You noticed that? Well I was born and raised in Farbanti. You know how you Osean’s have different accents for the different Regions? Same Idea. Most of us Costal types sound more Osean than those who grew up around Lambert or along the Eastern Border like those hicks you met.”

Trigger nodded, following Asher to one of the parked F-16As. “Which unit is this one with?” Trigger asked

“This one was a part of the 344^th, Bold Tiger Squadron. They were one of the many deactivated with the regime change back in the late aughties. If you want to be technical, they’re currently assigned to my squadron, the 163rd Fighter Squadron.”

“163^rd have a name? I mean all the other Erusean Units I flew with had.”

“Nope. I wanted ‘Farbanti’s Finest’ but that got veto’d by everyone. Can’t win em all.” Asher explained.

Trigger walked around the perimeter of the Fighter. He’d seen the legacy Vipers plenty of times, but they were almost all exclusively either museum pieces or gate guardians. Osea had long since converted their F-16As to target drones.

“How old are these Vipers anyways?” Trigger inquired, studying the intake.

“All Block 10 or earlier in this squadron. Some of the ones being pressed against the Radicals are Block 20 or have gone through the Mid Life Upgrade, so they can do beyond visual range and will be useful to air superiority. Here we just deal with the occasional ground support mission or regular air interdiction. Iron bombs don’t really need the fancy avionics to work.” Asher explained.

 “Did you always fly the Viper?”

“Yeah, I was a part of Ymir Squadron, 148^th Fighter Squadron.” Asher said distantly.

“See a lot of action with Ymir during the war?”

Asher laughed, it was hollow and humorless “I wish, we got stationed at some middle of nowhere Airbase just on the eastern border of San Salvacion. Our Mission was just to make sure the air routes for the supply aircraft stayed open to the few units that were blitzing on the front line. While those Arsenal Birds were up our job was easy, probably ninety nine percent of our sorties ended with no action whatsoever. Then one afternoon, three FCU Tornado’s come screaming through, blow the shit out of our Hangars and runway. Knocked us on our asses before we even figured out, we were under attack. Find out that evening that They hit us while the Arsenal Bird was occupied and destroyed over Stonehenge. Few days later Osean infantry roll up on our doorstep and capture the base and all of us with it. We lost our war before we even had chance to fight it.” He said disgusted.

“At least the pizza was decent. It was nearly impossible to get a good slice in that town by the base.” He quickly added for comedic effect.

The men stood in silence for a brief moment.

“So, Three Strikes, is all the stories they say about you correct?” Asher asked

“Which ones?”

“You know; that you single handedly sank the Njord fleet, and that you don’t actually have blood?”

Trigger raised his eyebrow at the assertion.

“The hell do you mean I ‘don’t have blood’?”

“I dunno, Some of the Rigel and Gram survivors mentioned it. Guess you were doing shit with that Eagle that shouldn’t have been physically possible.” Asher elaborated.

Trigger shook his head, “Man I wish that was the case but no. Im just as flesh and blood as anyone else.”

“You sure? I mean I saw that show on the science fiction channel, you know the one with the robots that looked like humans and blew everyone up?”

“I don’t have the oscillating red eye if that’s what you’re asking about.” Trigger said flatly.

“Eh, whatever you say ‘skin-job’.” Asher muttered.

“What are the other units here for anyways?” Trigger said changing the subject.

Asher thought for a moment.

“Well I can’t say much about the Tigers, since I kinda don’t know or care what their mission is. But the Frogfoots are getting geared up to be deployed for close-air-support against the radicals. Theres a handful of Flankers that have the same air defense mission here.”

“Honestly from the looks of it, your Air Force is the only branch not suffering in the equipment department since you can at least keep the CAP up compared to what the Army’s doing.” Trigger mused.

He noticed Asher turned away, catching a glimpse of a sneer at the comment.

“So, Trigger, care to see anything else? I mean I can’t show you everything but.” Asher asked.

“No thanks captain. I think I’ve seen enough here to get a general idea. Thanks for that.” Trigger replied.

Asher grinned “Anytime Major.” He made an about-face and ran towards the bases operations building.

Trigger slowly made his way back to Colonel Andre’s office.

Walking in, he saw that the Colonel had hardly moved in his absence.

“Major I didn’t hear you request to enter.” Andre growled.  

“Oh, Sorry, figured since-“ Trigger started

“-Enough Major. I will let it slide this time, but you’d be wise to remember I am still a Colonel of a now allied nation to your own and am to be treated as such.” Andre hissed.

Trigger straightened up his posture. “Yes sir.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Did you see anything interesting you’re going to report back to your superiors Major?” Andre asked, taking his eyes off the computer to study Trigger.

“Nothing of note that you already didn’t inform us of, Sir. Capitan Esparza was kind enough to answer the few questions I had.” Trigger said through gritted teeth.

Andre nodded satisfied.

“I thought so. Maybe you can tell Her Royal Highness that as well, just so I don’t have to deal with a pain like you every day.” Andre said dismissively.

Well fuck you too. Trigger thought.

“Is there anything else sir?” Trigger growled.

“That is all Major. I don’t even know why you came here in the first place.” Andre said dismissively.
***

It was nearing late evening by the time Trigger returned to the Palace. Taking a quick shower and changing into his street cloths, blue jeans, a T-shirt and his leather jacket, he walked to Cossette’s room.

Knocking on the door, he could hear her shower running. “Come in!” He could hear her muffled voice say.

It was the first time he had seen her bedroom. It was similar in size to the room he was staying in, with an attached bathroom and closet.

One thing that he took immediate notice of was the change in décor compared to the rest of the Palace. Instead of paintings of important Erusean historical figureheads, Cossette had posters from boy bands, movies and books littering her wall. It reminded him more to the room of a teenage girl instead of that belonging to the heir apparent to the monarchy.

“I am so glad to be off of work finally!” Cossette yelled from the shower.

“Busy day at work?” Trigger shouted back, taking a seat on her bed.

“My god, you wouldn’t believe the shit I have to deal with! I thought Troy was bad, but some of the old guard here!” She complained.

Trigger smirked listening to her.

The shower shut off and he could hear her grabbing a towel and drying off.

Trigger waiting, absent mindedly pulled the Hi-Power from its leather holster and verified that a round was chambered, before returning it under the jacket.

“Are you sure going on a date tonight is a good idea? I mean what if we get recognized?” Trigger asked

“Are you telling me your getting cold feet now all of a sudden?” Cossette countered; her voice still muffled by the closed bathroom door.

“No, I mean, just that it’s your Capital, and I have to imagine you’re pretty recognizable face around here.”

He could hear her footsteps approach the door. “Oh, that won’t be an issue, you know why?” She paused for effect, before quickly throwing the door open “Because I’m wearing a disguise!” she said proudly.

Instead of the formal attire she would normally be seen in public in, she had blue jeans, and a ‘Bana University’ hoodie and her hair tied back in a ponytail. Trigger looked on, trying to keep his bearing with an unamused face.

Cossette pouted “Jeeze, you don’t like it?” She asked.

“Well, I mean, it’s just that we could get away with it in Selatapura, but what about here? I’m not sure how well your country will take it that your dating the enemy.” Trigger said.

“Are you my boyfriend or are you my dad? Come on, what do we have to worry about? We look like any other normal couple.” She reinforced, walking towards, and falling into Trigger, who caught her.

She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo. Damn this is nice.

“Well, if your considering me the latter, I can tell you that you’re not going out dressed as that young lady” Trigger said in a mocking gruff tone. It occurred to him in that moment that he never actually did know what the former King of Erusea sounded like, much less looked like in that moment. He was sure he had seen paintings of him but since everything was written in Erusean, he couldn’t be too sure.

Cossette’s face soured at the mockery. “Wow, is it really that bad? It’s mostly your clothes anyways.” She said.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead on Bana’s Campus; I was a November City man!” Trigger said in a faux defense causing Cossette to roll her eyes.

“You keep changing that story every time you say it.” She noted.

“Hey, you can’t be the only person here with the secrets. Got to keep it interesting somehow.” Trigger said flirtatiously. She stared at him with unamused at the attempt. “Remember you love me for my charm.” He quickly said. “Something like that.” She replied.

Cossette pushed herself up from Trigger’s chest “Come on, we have a reservation we still have to be at.” She reminded him.

“Of course, What was this restaurant again?” He replied, following Cossette out the door.

“It’s this nice Italian Bistro in the middle of the old-town I thought we could go to. My parents took me there when I was really young, has a real nice atmosphere about the place. I hope that’s still the case.”

Trigger nodded, “Wait, what’s an Italian?”

***

Adams watched through the scope as a BMW pulled up and stop in front of the unassuming warehouse. From his vantagepoint he could almost make out the features of the men inside the vehicle.

“Assassin, Rider, Vehicle just stopped at the target.” Adams whispered into his throat mic.

Two clicks were his response.

The Estovakian burst weapon had been on the move non-stop for the previous few days until it landed in one of the countless warehouses in Selatapura Harbor, underneath the nose of an Osean Air Base and International Space Elevator.

“Rider, Magus, do you see any weapons?” Fick’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

Adams was still as he searched through the scope. The men hadn’t exited the vehicle so he couldn’t be positive. A few minutes later another vehicle, this time an older Chevrolet Suburban pulled up and parked behind the BMW.

Adams watched the Suburban driver kill the engine and get out; He was bald wearing a camouflaged cold weather jacket.  The thing that caught his eye was the way he walked. Unlike most of the characters he had seen the Cartel interact with, this man was too stilted in his walk, more akin to a military officer, instead of a arms dealer or soldato. Before the man reached the lead vehicle, Adams watched four sharply dressed men in suits exit the vehicle. he could almost make out the short-barreled rifles concealed underneath their coats.

“All Players, Rider, Four armed subjects, plus one unknown.” Adams whispered.

“Magus, Assassin, do I engage?” Zhao’s voice came through as a barely audible whisper.

There was a pause.

“Magus to all Servants, sit tight and do not engage. Berserker will be the one’s to take point on this” Fick ordered.

***
The restaurant Cossette had chosen was down the street from the Reconstruction Plaza, the exterior to Trigger was nothing terribly exciting, just a small black shade cover protruding out of the front of the building listing the name as Joel’s in elegant calligraphy. The interior was small and crowded with locals. The walls were lined in brick and the floor tile, the cheap wooden tables covered in a red and white checkerboard cloth. The candles on the tables flickered as their dim glow gave an intimate feel to the dining room.

Cossette and Trigger sat themselves at a table, a server walking over and taking their drink order.

“How silly of me, I run the Country, but I am still too young to even get a glass of wine.” Cossette observed.

“I mean, you could change the rule if you wanted, can’t you?” Trigger asked

Cossette thought for a moment and shrugged. “Dunno, Parliament may take issue with me giving blanket decrees like that.”

“I thought it was an absolute monarchy Erusea had.”

“Yes, but actually no. My family has a majority rule over the major business of the country. However, the parliament, like your senate, does have say on the finer details.” Cossette explained.

“Ah, so don’t step on their shoes, they won’t step on yours?” Trigger asked

“Exactly! Though who knows how long that will be-” Cossette said, before being interrupted by the server returning with their drinks.

“May I take your order miss?” the young man asked.

“Spaghetti for both of us please.” Cossette replied.

Waiting for the server to disappear into the kitchen, Cossette spoke up “Do you think he recognized me?” she asked concerned.

“I think he was more infatuated than anything. But what did you mean ‘for however long that will be’?” Trigger said, taking a sip from his cola.

Cossette raised an eyebrow “Not even jealous in that case?” avoiding the question.

Trigger shrugged “Well I know I certainly got him beat in the job department. Maybe even the looks department if I do say so myself.” he said leaning back and grinning causing Cossette to roll her eyes. “But come on what’s the deal with the parliament?” He asked again.

Cossette sighed. “As the monarchy stands, only male members are eligible for the throne. However, as luck would so have it, I have only one cousin who is a girl, meaning there is no legitimate male heirs. Parliament is wracking their brains on how to adjust the current rules to allow me to officially take the throne.” She explained. Trigger took her hand reassuringly. “You’ll figure something out. You always do.”

“So, Trigger, how was your visit to the air base today?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Hard to say. Colonel Andres doesn’t seem to like me, but I hit it off well with some of the pilots at least. Seriously what is that dudes deal?” Trigger asked.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say. I was only aware of him before the war started because of his demotion from brigadier general. But beyond that and the reasons for the demotion my father never explained. I have only been working with him since the end of November.” She explained.

Trigger nodded. “Was he one of the Conservatives then?”

“To my understanding he worked closely with lieutenant general Labarthe before his death, so yes.”

“Makes sense. I was surprised to see what your air force has become. Mostly Continental War veterans, right?” he asked.

Cossette nodded “Unfortunately, we’re working with what we have. The FCU has been cold about selling us anything newer for obvious reasons. I just hope the Radicals will be through with soon.” She said sadly.

“Makes sense. Well at least once this is settled you can work on making amends.” Trigger said hopefully.

“Of course. All things considered Erusea got off relatively lightly with the peace negotiations with Osea and the IUN.” She said sighing.

A few seconds later the waiter came out with their dinners.

Trigger studied the pasta for a second. “Oh. So, this, is what Italian is.”

***
“Sundowner One-One be advised, radar contact lost. Report when over ARCOE intersection for the TACAN Runway 21” the Farbanti Air Base Approach controller reported.

Sundowner flight was composed of two F-5 Tigers from the Erusean Air Force 111^th Fighter Squadron, composed of Captain Josh ‘Professor’ Hill and Lieutenant Daniel ‘Goombah’ Allison. The two Tigers were over the mountains returning from their CAP mission over Farbanti.

Professor was annoyed but not shocked at the report. Since the end of the war, the radar coverage around Farbanti had been awful, especially in the Mountains around the Farbanti Air Base.

 

“Sundowner One-One” Professor called back to the controller to acknowledge the report. Before letting his Oxygen mask hang to the side of his helmet. Their flight had been long and uncomfortable, the summer heat was setting in early and the nearly forty-year-old airplanes environmental control systems had long since failed. Compounded with the turbulence and added strain of flying a unergonomic fighter jet made him exhausted and wishing to be back in Griphen. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he flipped through his kneeboard until he found the approach plate and plugged in the TACAN’s channel in the F-5s navigation radio. Watching his HSI swing to life, he turned the course nob until it read 178.

“Sundowner One-Two, Sundowner One-One. You have the approach plate in front of you?” Professor called into his mask to Goombah.

“One-Two has the plate.”

“How about you brief it to me? You need the Practice.”

There was a pause.

“Ok, Looks like we’re intercepting the 178 radial at the ARCOE intersection, then waiting for the DME to count in until we hit WISTO at 21 miles out, then a DME arc in until we hit KUTME on the 210 and follow that the rest of the way in, Missed approach is at KITCH about .7 from the field and at 1460 feet.” Goombah explained.

Professor nodded in approval. “Needs work but you get the idea. Field has been VFR all day, so I doubt we’ll need this in anger.”

 

The two pilots sat in silence, watching the mountains pass by and the aircrafts distance to the airport tick down.

Suddenly, the radio crackled to life.

“Sundowner One-Three, reset IFF.” The Approach Controller called out annoyed.

What the hell? Professor thought.

“Approach, Sundowner One-One, be advised that we are a flight of two.” He called over the radio.

Silence was his response.

Chapter 18

 EIGHTEEN

“Attention, Gargoyle Squadron. Babel. Babel. Babel”

Trigger was tired, angry, and confused. He hadn’t been dogfighting for more than a few minutes, but he felt like he had run a marathon. President Harling was in a captured Erusean Osprey and heading out to sea where a carrier strike group would be awaiting him.

Trigger looked over his shoulder and saw seven plumes of smoke from what he presumed was Gargoyle Squadron, a group of Maritime Defense Force Tomcats.

He watched as six of the missiles were intercepted by the Arsenal Bird Liberty’s MQ-101 Unmanned Combat Vehicles. One lone missile exploded on the exterior of the Space Elevators windbreak.

What the fuck are they doing? Trigger thought to himself.

“Sky Keeper, What the hell was that!” Knocker demanded.

“Gargoyle Did their job!” the AWACS replied annoyed.

Trigger rolled his F-16 to reengage into the fight. His aircrafts PESA radar was next to useless in the furball they found themselves in. He quickly rolled through what weapons he had left.

Two Sidewinders, three 120’s, and 400 some odd rounds left on the Gun. Fuck Trigger thought to himself in frustration.

“I figured, but why weren’t we informed?” Knocker demanded

“The IUN Can’t Coordinate between Branches, as usual.” Clown said pragmatically.

The frequency was clogged with radio traffic between the multiple squadrons involved. Trigger was only half able to follow the situation unfolding.

Trigger rolled in a mile behind an Erusean MQ-99. He adjusted the radar until it had a lock and he fired one of his AIM-120’s. “Fox Three!” Trigger called out.

Trigger watched annoyed as the missile ‘went stupid’ and sailed harmlessly past the drone, which then made a hard banking turn towards Mother Goose One. 

Trigger was getting slower in his reactions. He wasn’t used to any furball lasting for as long as this one had. He was already loosing at the OODA Loop against the Drone’s computer he figured, He had long since tuned out the sound of his Viper’s radar warning receiver, and only occasionally took notice of the jet’s ‘Bitchin Betty’ reporting the deployment of chaff and flares. Trigger slammed his throttle forward into afterburner and switched over to the gun. Within a second the weapons computer had locked onto the Drone and was plotting the aim point for Trigger to put his pipper onto. With a brief squeeze of the trigger on the side stick, Trigger was greeted with a fireball as the drone was torn asunder with the cannon rounds. Trigger grinned watching the wreckage tumble towards the bay, belching fire and spewing smoke as it plummeted. 

“Mother Goose One Hit!” Clown yelled frantically over the net. That had caught Triggers attention. He looked frantically to his Data Link; He could see multiple Drones had converged on the lone MV-22’s position.

Trigger could hear the AWACS desperately trying to communicate with the wounded aircraft. Staying in Afterburner, Trigger rolled the Viper over and pulled into a hard turn towards the Osprey. He could see Clown quickly engage and dispatch two of the drones tailing the plane, causing the rest to scatter away.

 “This is Mage 1, I have Mother Goose One in my sight. Cabin fine, but the cockpit isn’t looking too good.”  Clown reported.

The AWACS once again called to the ailing plane.

“Sky Keeper, should we continue providing cover for Mother Goose One?” Clown asked.

“Of Course!” The AWACS replied annoyed.

Trigger had pulled up on Clowns wing, “Lead, I have your wing.” Trigger reported over the frequency.
Trigger took a closer look at the Osprey, He could see from his vantage point it was trailing something, and one engine appeared to have been severely damaged.

Clown made a gentle bank towards the escape vector, acting as a signal for the former Osean President’s aircraft to do the same. To Triggers surprise, The MV-22 had instead rolled into the opposite direction and had made a heading back towards the Space Elevator.

Wrong way Dumbass! Trigger thought as he evaded the oncoming aircraft.

“Mage 1, you have this?” Trigger asked annoyed.

Clown rocked his wings and turned around to follow the Osprey.

 

Trigger rolled back into the fight once again. He found another Drone, an Osean made MQ-101, switching over to the AIM-9 missile, he waited for the high pitch squealing tone before he fired the missile. The jet shuttered and Trigger had pulled away from the Attack, watching satisfied as the missile flew true and detonated, sending the drone crumbling to pieces.

 

Trigger turned his attention back towards Harling.

“We can’t protect our objective if it sticks around here!” Clown said quickly, his voice betraying a twinge of fear.

“Now’s not the time to freak out, fellas. We’ve still got a job to do, so let’s do it! Keep your mind focused!” Knocker reminded them. Trigger could even hear the apprehension in the normally cool-headed group commanders voice.

“The UAV’s are approaching Mother Goose One!” the AWACS reported.

“Let’s go Trigger!” Clown ordered.

“Right. Mage 2, engaging!” Trigger shouted. He put the circular reticle for the Sidewinder over the furthest UAV. I’ll just mop the rest up with the gun and Winchester out. He thought.

Hearing the positive tone, he pressed the weapons release button.

***

Trigger awoke in a cold sweat. It had been a few months since he had had that dream. It felt so real to him.

I guess that was almost a year ago now. Trigger thought to himself, catching his breath.

They bothered him. Having brought it up to the Air Bases flight surgeon, he was assured it was normal, just the brain’s way of decluttering itself. Every time he had had one of these memories it left him feeling worse for wear. He was just glad that Cossette wasn’t present any of the times previous he had them.

He got changed out of his fatigues and decided to clear his head with a walk around the palace grounds.

 

The interior halls of the palace were massive, and just as ornate as the guest room. He did some reading the day previous that said the Palace had almost 800 individual rooms, along with a 45-acre private park attached.

As Trigger made his way alone down one of the exterior hallways, he watched the moonlight shine in through the windows, almost as bright as search lights in the darkened hall.

***

The ground proximity radar was screaming at him.

He felt detached as he guided the Eagle through the canyon. The insertion plan to the AO was certifiably insane, the LRSSG was all in Agreement, however it also carried the highest chance of success compared to other more traditional plans.

The Cape Rainey Air Base was a perfect foot hold position for the Air Defense Force to start launching probing attacks into Farbanti ahead of the main invasion force at only 700 miles from the city. Off the shore sat a collection of Osean Fast Attack submarines filled with supplies to establish a forward operating base. However, before that could happen, Osean Marine Corps ‘Basilisk’ Team would have to secure the base, and to accomplish their mission required the LRSSG to provide the Close Air Support mission.

 

Trigger glanced to the side for a heartbeat, he could see the cold stone walls towering over him, It reminded him too much of the unpleasantness of the Yinshi Valley.

Well at least there’s no thunderstorms. He thought.

 

The canyon opened briefly and was filled with high intensity search lights. Trigger prayed the Intel was correct and they were automated and only tuned to search for Helicopters.

***
His heart was racing again.

Weird he thought to himself. Operation Werewolf was a rousing success, most of his dreams consisted of those missions that ended poorly. Mostly surrounding operations Giant’s Step, Two Pairs, Dual Wielder or Lighthouse Keeper.

Trigger continued his self-guided tour to clear his mind.

Nearing Cossette’s quarters, he started to hear a faint noise. Following the sound, he could make out what was a piano. The music was fast and aggressive, yet still having a sense of elegance about it.

Trigger quietly stalked his way through the rooms heading towards the source of the noise.

He paused before a closed door, Cossette’s room? He asked himself. Certainly the right part of the Palace. He listened intently through the door. He was taken aback with the different movements of the song, The main melody coupled with that of a supporting melody. The song transitioned from a rapid staccato to a driving but smoother chorus.

He turned and sat down, resting his head against the door. The door creaked slightly betraying his presence.

The Music stopped suddenly.

Trigger started to crawl away from the door before he heard a voice call out “Is that you?”, Cossette’s.

Trigger stood up and opened the door, instead of a bedroom, he was in a smaller room illuminated only by the moonlight. He could see the walls were covered in bookshelfs and in the center sat Cossette behind a grand piano. Her night gown almost glowing from the ambient light surrounding her.

“So what did you think?” She asked.

“I didn’t know you played piano” Trigger replied sheepishly.

Cossette smiled “Its not one I’m terribly good at. I prefer to sing more than play. Never quite had the ear for it.” She said dejected.

“We could argue about that. You sounded great!” Trigger s.

“Thank you Trigger, that means a lot.” Cossette sighed.

“Rough day at work?” Trigger asked worried,

“Something like that. I hope I am not the reason your awake.” Cossette replied, the smile disappearing from her face.  

Trigger grinned. “Not this time. But hearing you play I can’t say I’d be disappointed to wake up to that. What was that piece called?”

Cossette furrowed her brow “Démêler I think? Im not sure what the translation is to common however. Its one I learned back in school.” She admitted.

“Can I hear another one?” Trigger asked.

Cossette thought for a moment, and a slight smirk returned to her face. “Sure. I will play you one of my favorites. Azalea.” She said with a determined look on her face.  Trigger noticed that she didn’t have any sheet music to play off of for either song.

He watched her hands as she played the song.

It started quickly, her hands flying across the keys as she played. The sound and melody progressed in volume and complexity until reaching the crescendo. It ended with falling chord progression culminating in a final note that hung in the air momentarily.  

Trigger clapped at the conclusion of the performance, Cossette bowed and giggled at Trigger’s over the top reaction.

“Thank you Trigger. Just a lot has happened today, and I just needed somewhere to vent. Piano always seemed to help my mother so I figured it was worth a shot.”

“What happened?” Trigger asked. She walked over to him and took his hand.

“It’s, not really easy for me to explain, and I don’t quite understand it well myself. It has to do with succession and such and my cabinet is just on my back with it now since we’re back in Farbanti.” She explained.

Trigger nodded, embracing her in a hug. “Its Ok dear. Whatever it is, I will be there for you.” He whispered to her.

She looked up at him, he was lost in her brilliant blue eyes in that moment.

“Trigger, do you think you can sleep with me tonight? I just need you right now.” She admitted.

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Trigger replied.

***
Trigger watched her as she slept by his side, using his arm as her pillow. Her sleep was restless, and he could hear her mumbling as she slept.

“Three Strikes”

It caught his attention, he looked down and saw her face had contorted into a frown.

Am I hearing things? He asked himself.

A second later Cossette’s face had relaxed and returned to normal.

Guess I’m not the only one having trouble sleeping. He thought to himself before drifting off to sleep once again.

Chapter 17

 SEVENTEEN

“Really like what you all did with the place, gives off that regal vibe” Trigger said sarcastically, walking around the perimeter of the royal study. Cossette looked up at trigger from her desk and rolled her eyes, “Well that was kinda the idea, wouldn’t you think?” She said unamused.

Trigger cleared his throat, then spoke in a poorly feigned rural accent “I don’t know what chu city folk like, but where I’m from-”

“Carbanero right?” Cossette interjected, in an attempt to derail the stale joke

“Well uhh… Yeah, the small farming town of Carbanero!” Trigger said, sticking to the bit.

Cossette folded her hands on her desk and let out an annoyed sigh “Yes, the small town of Carbanero with a population rivalling Oured at, oh, last I checked, six-hundred some odd thousand residents?”

Trigger held up his hands, conceding the joke. “Actually, it was Lumen was where I was born. Not that it really matters.” Trigger corrected.

“So, is there a reason you came to bug me Trigger? As you can see im still very busy” Cossette asked, turning her attention back to the documents before her.

Trigger gave a slight sigh and stretched his arms out “Well, I was going to see if you wanted anything to eat. I don’t think I saw you have anything since the plane flight this morning. And I doubt you had anything with all the pomp and ceremony of this afternoon.”

Cossette cracked a smile “Its OK Trigger, I had Gretchen drop me off something small earlier. Thank you for worrying about me.”

Trigger walked up behind Cossette’s chair and leaned down to embrace her in a hug, He started to tease her with pecks on the neck and exposed shoulder. “Come on Trigger! I have work to do, shoo!” She pleaded giggling.

“Hey, I thought you would show me around your hometown when we got here, but its just been one ceremony after another since we were wheels down!” Trigger whispered playfully.

The moment Cossette arrived back to the Royal Palace; she had been attending multiple formal ceremonies. The primary of which had the raising of the Royal Standard of Erusea over the palace grounds, finally symbolizing to the defeated populous that the monarchy had once again returned.

The ceremony itself was subdued, Only a small regiment of Erusean regular military was present in their formal attire, along with a handful of armored and mechanized vehicles for a parade, however there was a rather sizable gathering of Farbanti’s populous to witness the occasion from the exterior walls of the grounds along with multiple members of the press.

“Well Trigger –“ she said, brushing him away “- when you’re in my position, tradition requires that kind of Pomp and Ceremony.” She explained dismissively.

“Doesn’t the attention get annoying?” he asked.

Cossette paused and thought for a moment. Trigger’s heart still skipped a beat any time he saw her with that focused expression. She appeared to be so lost in thought that she hadn’t taken notice of the stray strand of hair that had once again fallen onto her face.

“Well, to be honest, when I was younger, I hated it. But as I grew older, I guess I started to understand the role a bit better and just learned to get over it. The stuff we did today? That was constant for me before and during most of the war. Being a Royal is a twenty-four seven commitment.” She shrugged “Its partially a reason I was so happy to be in Selatapura, not as many eyes watching every move”

“So, your saying we need to be more careful here? Should we even be in the same room right now?” Trigger asked.

“Nothing that extreme. The Palace is swept for bugs and we’re far enough away and in a private enough area that no nosey paparazzi will be able to see anything. And in the off chance they do, well, needless to say the Intelligence Service has its own employees in ENN.” She explained with a wicked grin.

“What, they give them concrete boots or something?”

“Nothing so dramatic. The EIS is very good about making those problem children fall in line, either with carefully documented blackmail or enough information to discredit them into oblivion. No one in that business is clean enough to escape them.”

“Remind me to never piss you off.” Trigger said jokingly.

“Oh calm yourself. Even I can’t use those powers against any of my exes. So functionally your fine.” She said

“I don’t know, I can’t say I’m terribly comfortable with an ex-girlfriend who also happens to have a host of Intercontinental ballistic missiles” Trigger said sarcastically.

“Call it a deterrent. Not that any attempts of using those weapons ever worked.”

“Your welcome.” Trigger quickly chimed in.

“Yes, I had heard that our IRBM facilities in Sierraplata was hit. So, I take that was your doing?” Cossette asked pointedly

Trigger gave a boyish grin in response

“Do you have any idea how expensive those missiles were?” She jokingly chastised him, standing up from her desk and wagging her finger.

She sighed “Well it is what it is. I was never present in those meetings, but Father never liked the idea of those weapons being in the arsenal when we were still trying to be amicable towards the rest of Usea.”

“See? Then I did you a favor! You may shower me with praise!” Trigger defended himself, causing Cossette to roll her eyes a second time.

“We’ll have to see about that. If nothing else, it did deprive the Radicals from using them. But who knows if that even crossed their minds.” Cossette said tired.

The Radical’s had been occupying Cossette’s thoughts more and more Trigger had noticed. It pained him each time to see how distressed she would get each time another report would come in. He could see it was starting to wear on the young woman.

“Hey, Cossette, when is your quitting time anyways? I mean back home, you had a chance to at least leave work at work, is that the same case here?” Trigger asked concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at the time, you’ve been almost non-stop all day, is this going to be normal from here on out for you? Or are you going to take a break at some point?” Trigger asked, pointing to his watch for emphasis. The sun had long set, and it was nearing midnight.

She looked at Trigger with weary eyes “Don’t worry Trigger, it should be back to normal routine within the next day or two. We should be able to sneak off after it settles down a bit. It’s just that everything is a bit underwater is all.”

“Just remember to come up for air once in a while.” Trigger reminded her. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I wish, but no, this is all for Erusea to handle internally. It’s been a cluster fuck sorting all this out, but I think I got it mostly figured out.” She reported returning to her work.

***

Adams and Zhao sat on a hill overlooking Axel Bay, the major port leading into Chopinburg. Both men looked through binoculars at the ships coming into the harbor.

“I got eyes on the Cartel’s ship” Adams reported.

Zhao paused for a moment and keyed the radio on his lapel “Magus, Assassin, eyes on the MS Antoine Henri, looks to be Verusean flagged.”

Lieutenant Fick’s voice squawked through the radio “Magus copies all. That matches the report Assassin” Fick confirmed.

“So, any idea what the old man is wanting with the ships anyways?” Adams asked Zhao, still keeping his eyes on the lumbering vessel.

“The numbers are just too off for his comfort.” Zhao responded stoically

“Whats that supposed to mean?”

“They used to ship nearly a million kilos of drugs into Usea. Now? It’s hardly half a million.”

“Maybe it’s not profitable, you know with the war and all that?” Adams replied

“that’s the thing, their drug shipments went down, but arms shipments shot way through the roof. They probably moved more weapons this year into Usea than Albastru.”

“Maybe they’re finally going to push the rival families out of the country with force?”

“Hard telling. This many weapons in play does not bode well for a stable region however, that’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, I really am digging the Belkan hiker tourist look.” Adams said sarcastically

“Magus, Rider” A voice squawked on the radio. It was Morgan

“Magus, go ahead.” Fick replied

“I sent the Sniffer drone out to the Henri, please confirm what the Manifest said they were carrying?” Morgan asked.

There was a pause

“Rider, Magus, OIA docs show it should just be rifles and ammunition. What are you seeing?”

“Check again, the sniffer is going off the charts, we’re dealing with some serious firepower here.”

“Could the ships machinery be giving false readings?” Zhao chimed in.

“Negative Assassin, looks to be high grade warheads.”

“Rider, confirm its non-radiological” Fick ordered.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Rider confirms. Signature is matching those of a burst-missile type warhead. Likely Estovakian in nature with the off-gassing makeup.” Morgan reported.

There was a sigh of relief at the report amongst the operators.

 

“Understood Rider, wait for the ship to pull into port and see if you can tag the shipment.” Fick ordered.

 

“What the hell does the Sapinish Cartel want with a burst missile anyways?” Adams asked rhetorically.

“Probably a bargaining chip. You’d literally have the ability to erase your competition with one. How they got their hands on one is anyones guess.” Zhao explained.

“Wouldn’t that raise the attention of more than just us if they did that?”

Zhao scoffed.

“By who? The IUN? Those are a bunch of corrupt jackasses, If the Cartel wants to use those warheads, odds are that they would have enough politicians on their payroll to get away with it. Groups like that don’t get ballsy for no reason.” Zhao explained.

“Damn.” Adams said quietly.

A few hours later, the two men were watching the Antoine Henri being unloaded of its cargo. The radio once again squawked to life.

“Servants, Rider, looks like I have the container located. Having the sniffer put the tracker on it now.” He reported.

A moment later Fick’s voice returned to the radio.

“Attention all Servants, Grail is filled. RTB”

Zhao stood up and dusted off his pants

“That’s or cue”

“Thank god, I was just looking forward to sweating my nuts off back in that god-forsaken jungle hut.” Adams groaned.

“Oh, you Sea Goblin boys are such big babies.” Zhao chastised.

***
The Osean Ground Self Defense Force 101^st Airborne was a historical unit, having the most combat drops of any airborne company in Osea, to include into Belka and Yuktobania. Colonel Scott Padbury had personally accounted for four jumps in his 25-year career. His jump wings were that of legend in the Airborne community.

Trigger was impressed with the 101^st choice of Headquarters in the city of Farbanti. Before the war, it had been the Erusean National Bank, now instead of the lobby being taken up with chairs and loan advisors, it was filled with desks cluttered in military hardware.

Making his way up the steps towards the entrance, Trigger was taken aback by the massive size of the pillars that made up the front face of the concrete and marble building. Despite being one of the smaller buildings in the Cities downtown financial district, it still was massive to Trigger.

“Halt! Who goes there!” Barked a Soldier running up to him.

Trigger quickly fished out his military ID. “Sorry about that, I was hoping to check in with the Battalion Commander.” Trigger replied. He was in his standard Airman Battle Uniform, and had the rank on his collar, however he understood the precautions the garrison forces were taking.

The soldier quickly relayed the information over the radio. A moment later he returned Trigger’s ID. “Apologies Major, I hope you understand.”

“Not a problem, can I go in?” Trigger replied

“Yes sir, Colonel Padbury is just inside.” The soldier replied quickly, before making an about face and returning to his post.

 

Inside the building, Trigger was surprised how subdued the room was. Officers and enlisted milled around, quietly working on their assigned tasks. On one wall was a detailed map of the city. Trigger was pointed into the offices to find the units commander. In what was the bank managers office sat Colonel Padbury and a short Erusean military officer. Seeing Trigger approach the room, Padbury cleared his throat and motioned for him to enter the room.

Padbury in person surprised Trigger, most of the senior officer’s he’d known had looked far older than their chronological ages. Padbury on the other hand looked far closer to his mid-thirties than his late fifties.

“Great, you Chair Force boys are multiplying” Padbury said deadpan, garnering a laugh from the Erusean.

“Sorry to show up unannounced sir. Colonel Woods-“ Trigger started to explain

“Yeah, I know, Steve told me about it earlier. Say Major, have you had a chance to meet Colonel Andres yet?” Padbury said, introducing the two men.

Trigger noticed Andres face soured when he saw Trigger.

“Yes Sir, the Colonel and I were briefly introduced yesterday.” Trigger replied.

“Indeed, I am told ‘Three Strikes’ is one of your countries most accomplished pilots.” Andres replied tactfully. His Speech was heavily accented when speaking common. From the eastern border maybe? Trigger thought. Cossette had taken some time to explain the differences in accent, but it largely went over his head.

“Well in that case, I don’t need to do introductions. Major take a seat if you will, this involves you too.” Padbury ordered, motioning to an empty chair besides Colonel Andres.

“Indeed. As Painful as it is for me to report, my countries military is still too tied up with dealing with the Radicals to take up full security in Farbanti.” Andres said disdainfully.

“What’s that mean?” Trigger asked

“Right now, we have only enough troops to run Palace security and to augment the Osean Forces present. We would not be able to keep Farbanti secure on our own, which means unfortunately for both of our countries, Osea will have to remain for the foreseeable future until the State’s Security is assured.” Andres explained.

“Im Sorry to hear that. Do I just need to report this to Her Royal Highness?” Trigger asked

“Not exactly Major. As far as she goes, her security staff will remain fully Erusean and this is just another aspect to bring up at the upcoming peace conferences.” Padbury interjected

“So, what does this have to do with me then?” Trigger asked.

“I see this is your first combat deployment, is that correct Major?” Padbury asked rhetorically. Trigger was sure he had already been made aware of his unusual service record.

“That’s correct sir.” Trigger replied.

“Well, you see, around these parts we kind of have a different creed. Every Serviceman a Rifleman. Marines hate we stole their thing but it’s just a fact of life, every clerk and POG out that door is carrying a weapon, and as long as you’re in Farbanti Major, that includes you as well.” Padbury elaborated.

“Furthermore, we passed this through the Princess, and she was all for the idea.” Andres included

“She does know I’m just a pilot, right?” Trigger asked incredulously. I really wish she had mentioned that this morning! Trigger thought to himself.

“But you have your basic rifle and pistol qualifications” Andres said.

“Yeah, Rifle back when I was going through Field Training, and Pistol nearly a year ago!” Trigger defended himself. And even then, I got the bare minimum score to pass!

“It doesn’t matter Major; Go see the Battalion’s armorer before you leave today.” Padbury Said, ending the discussion.

“Understood sir.” Trigger said dejected. “I guess they don’t have any handheld 20-millimeter handguns, right? I’m just saying since I’m better with a Vulcan than a pistol.”

“Do you hate your wrist bones Major?” Padbury replied unamused at the request.
***

“Standard Farbanti Police Department issue Browning Hi-Power. As the size would suggest she’s a 9-millimeter handgun, magazine has thirteen rounds plus one in the chamber. It’s a single action so, hammer back before you can fire.” The Armorer said proudly. 

 

Trigger studied the handgun before him intently. He was hardly a stranger to firearms, having constantly carried one on all the LRSSG and Mage Squadron combat sorties. Unlike the Berretta M9 service pistols the Air Defense Force used, which often rattled incessantly and were prone to failure, this handgun looked like most of its life was in a holster rather than fired.

 

“I thought the army was using the new SIG P250s.” Trigger asked

“Oh yeah, we have those, but you’re not getting one. This baby right here came right out of the Police departments weapons locker. We don’t have to keep track of those guns we captured as much as we do our own. And besides, these guns have never been fired and only dropped once so what’s there to worry about?” The soldier replied.

Trigger racked the slide multiple times and felt the trigger pull, the hammer falling with a satisfying click.

“Level with me Corporal, what the hell do you expect me to do with this in a firefight should one break out?”  Trigger inquired.

The soldier thought for a moment.

“Well Major, I personally couldn’t tell ya. Logically you could use it to get yourself a better gun from those shooting at you. Failing that you may also use it for asset denial.

Trigger chuckled at the crude remark. “Well let’s hope it doesn’t come to that then.” Trigger said.

The Corporal disappeared into the Armory and returned a moment later with two magazines and a molded plastic holster.

“Here’s two spare magazines, and the level three holster the Police was using. Sorry we didn’t have a chest rig for you to use since you’re a pilot and all” the Corporal explained sarcastically. He took a moment to demonstrate to Trigger how to draw the handgun from the restraints on the holster.

Trigger took a moment and attached the bulky holster to his belt. “Damn, good thing im wearing a service coat for this job because this thing would be awful to try to conceal.” Trigger joked.

The Corporal shrugged “I mean, it is a full-sized handgun, I don’t think Saint Browning was worried about that in the design. Besides I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could carry a full PDW underneath without anyone noticing.”

“Do you have one we could try out?” Trigger asked, going all in on the comment. 

“no way I’m signing for that, you get to deal with the police trade in only.” The Corporal said, folding his arms.

“It was worth a shot.” Trigger joked.

***

It was late in the evening when Trigger returned to the palace. He had documentation to get through the guards, even being armed the whole process took twenty minutes.

The guest room Cossette had arranged for him was larger than the apartment he had had in Selatapura. Everything in the room was ornately decorated, paintings hung on the wall of previous members of the royal family in Erusea’s past. The walls were an immaculate white color, with gold colored trimmings laced around. The ceiling was a complex pattern of engraving that made Trigger’s head hurt to look at.

Draping his ABU blouse across the back of a chair, Trigger let out a sigh of relief and fell onto his bed.

Damn, how the hell did I get here of all places? He thought. Moments later, he had drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 16

 

SIXTEEN

Trigger knocked on the door quickly.

“I don’t know what your anticipating Major” the Sergeant guarding the door said pragmatically. Trigger sighed with the report.

“Have you at least been checking on him?” Trigger asked annoyed.

“Of course, Major Santos has us checking on the Captain four times a day, plus meal delivery. And for added monitoring, we have a camera inside the room.” The Sergeant explained.

“How voyeuristic.” Trigger said flatly.

There was a rustling commotion behind the door that caught the men’s attention, a second later the door popped open. Standing there, stood a haggard looking Knocker. Trigger could see his eyes looked almost glazed over, and he had a slight beard growing from going days without shaving. The PT gear he was wearing was stained and wrinkled and looked almost as if he had been wearing it for the past few days.

“what do you want?” he asked quietly, an annoyed tone cutting through his voice. Trigger could see his eyes start to focus, and that burning intensity return to them.

“I came to check on you Captain” Trigger replied.

“What the fuck do you care?” Knocker shot back

“Well, you’re supposed to be taking command of the Air wing here. But so far, I can’t really see you being able to while your locked away here. I came to check and see how your doing so Byrns can give you the go ahead back to flying. But you know what happens if you’re not capable” Triggers voice trailed off.

Knockers outbursts had caught the Osean Command by surprise. They were not willing to pull his flight status as quickly as Byrns was wanting. Trigger’s last job in Selatapura before leaving was to see if Knocker would be able to return, or if another officer would take the role.

Knocker stood looking unimpressed with Trigger. In comparison, Trigger was wearing his pressed blue service coat, along with the small handful of ribbons and awards.

“What the hell does a war criminal like you even know about that stuff?” Knocker said, flicking the wings on Triggers uniform. Trigger held up his hand to ward off the Sergeant from intervening.

“Captain, I have given you chances time and again to shape up this past week, but this is really the path you want to go down?” Trigger growled “You are a goddamn officer, and a Squadron commander no less! How about you shape the fuck up and start acting like one!” Trigger admonished, his voice rising in volume.

Knockers eyes were blazing he got nose to nose with Trigger “Or what? You gonna shoot me down like you did to o’l Harling? I was there. I know what you did” Knocker taunted.

Trigger took a step back and shook his head in disgust.

“Jesus Christ. Your not even fit to wear the uniform anymore.” Trigger derided.

“Well now. That makes two of us” Knocker said, satisfied with Triggers outburst. “So, any other reason you came to bother me?”

Trigger sighed. “No Captain. I don’t think there is.” Trigger said flatly.

Knocker retreated into darkened room, allowing the Sergeant to close the door behind him.

“Well Major, that certainly went well.” He said, tapping the holster on his hip.

“What do you mean?” Trigger asked

“Most of the time he just lays in bed staring at us when we come in. Its just damn creepy. So at least he’s speaking and ambulatory” The Sergeant explained.

“Did you guys report this behavior?” Trigger asked

“Yeah, Colonel had the flight doc give him a once over. Dude just doesn’t move.”

Hearing this troubled Trigger. Pilots were the last people that anyone wanted to lose their grip. From Knockers behavior, Trigger wasn’t convinced he already hadn’t.

 

Leaving the Officer dormitories, Trigger made his way across the base towards the now Fort Grays squadrons bar. Unlike the Heritage rooms back in Fort Grays Air Base, Trigger noticed that Golem and Mage squadron had adopted a single room to call their own in Seltapura. He hoped that given his prior assignment to Mage would be good enough to not transgress on the sacred ground.

Walking into the room, he found it oddly nostalgic. It was crowded in a sea of olive flight suits. On one wall a few Pilots had taken to painting both Squadron patches. He grinned when he saw the cartoonish ‘Merlin’ that the Squadron had as their mascot since the early days of the Osean-Yuktobanian Cold War.

Elsewhere In the room, Trigger could see a darts competition between some of the Golem and Mage pilots, and then on the far wall behind the bar, was a young second lieutenant serving the alcohol that the LRSSG had left behind.

The Energetic atmosphere was something he had missed, compared to the laid-back attitude the LRSSG had had in the very same room. He in some ways missed it.

Trigger made his way through the crowded room; he noticed the mood around him changed as people saw him enter. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his uniform, his rank, or his previous interactions with their commander that made them view him as an interloper.

Approaching the bar, he found an empty stool and sat down. “What can I get you?” the distracted Lieutenant behind the bar asked.

“Cola please” Trigger replied

“Ah come on! Nothing harder than that? What are you a-“ The lieutenant froze when he saw Trigger.

“Right away sir.” He quickly said, making off to retrieve the soda.

“What are you doing here?” came an accusatory voice from Trigger’s left.

“What?” Trigger asked.

“I asked what are you doing here? Brass like you doesn’t come down here without a damn good reason.” The voice asked again. Burying her head on the bar was the young female lieutenant Trigger had met when the squadron arrived. First Lieutenant Janet ‘IRIS’ Hart happened to be Mage’s acting flight leader. Trigger had only briefly overlooked her record and saw she had three air to air victories and was by far the only experienced nugget pilot the squadron had. 

“What, I can’t come back and see what became of my old squadron?” Trigger asked cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. He could feel the eyes on him as the room went from a loud chatter to a dull drone.

“Nope. Not after the shit that happened the other day. So, I ask again. Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for information.” Trigger replied truthfully.

“Depends on the information Major.” IRIS replied annoyed, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well, as you can guess, Its mostly about Knocker.”

“Figures, Captain did pull a gun on you. By the way, why was that?” IRIS asked, before Trigger could reply she continued “Whatever, what do you need to know Major?”

“How was he when he was at Fort Grays?” Trigger inquired.

“What do you mean?” She asked

“How was his behavior. Was his attitude always like how he’s acting now? Or is this a new change?” Trigger clarified.

IRIS nodded. The lieutenant behind the bar returned with the soda for Trigger “Cap has always been a hard-ass.” He interjected flatly.

“in what way?” Trigger implored.

The lieutenant behind the Bar was one Trigger hadn’t had a chance to read the file on. His only knowledge was that he wore the callsign of ‘Hades’. By Triggers guess, Hades was still fairly fresh out of Heierlark.  Hades thought for a moment on Trigger’s question.

“Cap won’t let anything slide. On training missions around the Islands, he would Unsat the entire flight for almost everything.” Hades said.

“And on Combat debriefs, he would always end up ripping us a new asshole and make us run combat drill on top of combat drill between missions.” IRIS added.

“But Cap has saved our asses a bunch of times. Especially towards the end of the war. He once took on a flight of Fulcrums with just one wingman and came out on top, just to buy us some time to complete the objective.” Hades said admiringly

“Yeah, if I had a nickel for every time the Captain got myself or any of Mage out of a tight spot. He might be a hard-ass but at least when the chips are down, he’s probably the only one here we can count on.” IRIS said.

Trigger nodded listening intently as the nuggets shared their observations.

“So Major, now that we answered your question. Care to answer ours?” Hades asked.

“Shoot.” Trigger replied.

“You used to fly with Knocker, right?” Hades continued

“Something like that. I was Mage, not Golem, but you know.” Trigger explained.

“Any idea what happened? All the old hats on base said he was a ton different before the war. Do you know if he got a ‘Dear John’ letter or something?” Hades asked. Trigger was surprised with how under informed the young pilots were. When he had arrived at the penal base, almost everyone had heard the reason he was in prison. His ‘shoot down’ of the former President had made Trigger a minor celebrity even before he had made it back inside the cockpit.

“If he didn’t say anything about it. Its not my place to say then.” Trigger replied, dodging the question.

“So then why does Knocker have such a hard-on to kill you?” IRIS interrogated.

Trigger rolled his eyes. “It’s classified” he said flatly, taking a sip of his cola. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if the events surrounding the mission were classified, he hadn’t cared enough to check, and as far as he was concerned, it was dead and in the past.

“Oh, come on Major, You really can’t say?” IRIS implored.

Trigger looked the younger pilot square in the eye. “There’s a difference between ‘Can’t’ and ‘Don’t want to’. I’ll let you be the judge on which this falls into.” Trigger said sharply, shutting down the topic.

He checked his watch, quickly downing his soda, he pulled a small wad of cash from his wallet and left it on the bar, the Fort Grays pilot’s gave him a wide berth as he exited their bar.

Might have been a Mage once, but those days are long over. Trigger thought to himself as he made his way to ramp.  

***

Trigger watched the mottled green and brown Kawasaki C-1 transport taxi lazily onto the ramp from the runway. Overhead he could see a formation of two Flankers performing the overhead break for a landing.

On the ramp under the shade of a Hanger, sat Cossette and her advisors, along with a small group of armed Erusean Military awaiting the Transports arrival in relative comfort. Trigger on the other hand was on the verge of heat stroke. Between the wool service dress and mid-April sun, He would have rather been in the Nomex flight suit. He tugged slightly at his collar, in vain to prevent overheating.

“Doing OK there Trigger?” He heard Colonel Byrns ask from behind him. Trigger turned to see the Colonel, grinning and wearing his ABUs. “Yes sir, probably downed half my weight in water though” Trigger dryly replied, holding up an empty plastic water bottle for emphasis. Byrns chuckled, “Well, just remember that those planes only have one bathroom, and you have to share it.” He joked.

“You know, I’d thought they’d have more pomp and ceremony involved.” Byrns observed.
“Most of the executive white-bodies were destroyed or captured when we took Farbanti. The EAF had to make do.” Trigger explained.

“And what of those Flankers?” he said, pointing at the two fighters taxiing their way onto the ramp. On closer inspection Trigger could see that they were and SU-30 variant, however instead of the traditional Erusean tan and green, they were a factory air superiority grey with hastily spray-painted orange Erusean roundels on the wings and fuselage.

“If I remember the briefing correctly, they’re loaners from Yuktobania. I guess they were originally slated for one of their allies but something in the deal fell through, which meant that they were just sitting on a ramp somewhere in the Jilachi rusting away when the Princess got them.” Trigger explained.

Byrns nodded. “How nice of them, brand new gen fours for a low price.”

Trigger snorted “Not that nice. Yukes really dumbed these planes down. They lack even the basic PESA radars the Su-27 has. I think they are the same ones that were on the MiG-23s?”

“Damn, how mighty white of them then.”

“Yukes stipulation was that the fighters were for defense only. They didn’t want to cause any issues with Osea incase the Princess changed her mind. Like she’s in any position to” Trigger elaborated.

“Well I guess you can be thanked about that, How much of her air force is adorning your plane in tallys?” Byrns joked.

Trigger thought for a moment. He knew he was an ace before he was court martialed. While in the penal unit and after, he hadn’t kept track unlike Count and the other pilots had. Outside of a handful of victories, most didn’t stick out in his mind.

Trigger shrugged “I honestly don’t know. I’m probably up there, even without counting the UAVs.”

“Not many pilots can just casually say that you know.” Byrns said flatly.

The two men turned their attention to the C-1 as it stopped in front of the hangar and shut down its engines. Quickly surrounded by a ground support crew, hoses were connected to refuel the jet, within a moment of the cargo bays door closing, the crew was frantic in loading pallets of luggage for the flight.

“I don’t get why she didn’t ask us for a Liaison aircraft.” Trigger said in disbelief at the sight. “We have plenty of the damn things. Im sure we could have spared a Gulfstream or if nothing else a Huron. And its not like we don’t do special air missions for the FCU like that all the time.” He continued.

“It’s all about appearances Trigger” Byrns said sternly “We already beat these people, badly. The last thing any of them needs, is the demoralizing punch to the gut of a foreign power returning their leader to their occupied capital. They have to have some dignity left. And besides it would likely inflame the Erusean population even more than they already are.” Byrns explained sadly.

Trigger nodded in understanding.

“So, Major, learn anything new about this Captain?” Byrns asked, changing the subject.

“Not a whole lot. Fort Grays seems to have a ton of faith in him. But I can’t say I saw any of that in person. If I had to guess, I might be the catalyst of this behavior. Kind of hard to observe in that case” Trigger reported. “If nothing else, the Pilots here seem to follow him. If you want my opinion, as long as the flight surgeons say he’s ok, let him continue. Just keep him on a short leash until we figure out if I’m the cause or if he’s just an asshole.” Trigger continued.

Byrns nodded. “Good enough for me. Besides I don’t think Edwards would let me even if I wanted to take him off Flight status. We’re sorely down good pilots. Another reason it hurts losing you to the Liaison Corps.”

“Sorry about that.” Trigger apologized.

“Eh, it is what it is Major. Are you ready for the flight?” Byrns asked

“Yes Sir, dropped the duffel bag of my uniforms off earlier today, so Theoretically I just need to show my ID and that’s it.” Trigger explained.

“Well in that case Major, I think that’s all I have for you.” Byrns said, extending his hand. Trigger gave the Colonel a firm handshake “Thank you Sir.”

“All I can say is good luck Trigger. I expect to hear great things from your new job.” Byrns concluded.

Trigger gave a sharp salute, before turning on his heel and making his way to the onboarding queue.  

 

Approaching the line, he was stopped by an Erusean Soldier.

“Identification please?” he asked

Trigger produced his ID and Paperwork from the Erusean Government. The Soldier studied it and then pulled out a metal detector wand “It will be just a moment Major” he said as he waived the device over Trigger. Satisfied he returned the papers and pointed to a small waiting area for the passengers.

“Ah Major, glad of you to join us!” Cossette greeted as he approached.

“Of course your Highness. Sorry for my tardiness, had some final things to wrap up before I left.” Trigger explained. It was a show the couple had been having to put on for the previous week, Trigger couldn’t wait until they were in private so he could make fun of the charade yet again.

“So, Major I trust you have been on something like this before?” Cossette asked.

Trigger studied the military transport for a moment. “Well not one of these exactly. Does a C-130 count?” he asked.

Cossette giggled at the response “Well, I can tell you these are wonderful airplanes. Though this one probably wont be quite as comfortable as the one I’m used to.”

“Oh right! you had a special converted one, right?” Trigger asked, feigning the attempt at small talk.

“You’ve done your homework! Yes, my former Transport was a Specially converted plane. It was wonderful, plenty of space, and had an interior closer to my Fathers 777 than these bulky military transports.” Cossette explained.

Trigger had looked up photos the Erusean press had released, Cossette’s Personal L-1 was a heavily modified C-1 transport, Inside was a small personal cabin for Cossette, and then in the rear portion of the jet was something more akin to an Airliner. Instead of metal panels, on the floor was carpeting, the walls were a mixture of wood paneling and plastic. The rear door was also sealed permanently and instead was a baggage area. The King had the jet specially commissioned for Cossette’s sixteenth birthday.

And I didn’t even get a car for my sixteenth!  Was all Trigger could think when he had read the details of her plane.

As the two talked, A Erusean officer interrupted them.

“Votre Altesse, nous sommes prêts à embarquer” the Officer reported.

“Bien sûr, je serai sur tout de suite” Cossette replied quickly to Triggers bewilderment.

“Well shall we go Major?” Cossette asked, noticing Triggers confused expression. “You know, there is still time to take language classes. I can even tutor you if you would like.” She teased.

“That won’t be an issue your highness. Lead the way” Trigger conceded.

***

A sudden jolt of the airplane woke Trigger up. He looked around regaining his bearings, The C-1’s cargo area was converted for passenger comfort, instead of the basket seating that soldiers were used to, it was multiple rows of airliner seating. It was a small concession in the loud cargo environment of a predominantly logistical mission of the aircraft. He could see the other bureaucrat advisors to Cossette were unnerved by the turbulence the jet found itself in, Trigger grinned in a faux superiority on his indifference towards the phenomenon. However, he was still uncomfortable due to the sensory deprivation he found himself in. Unlike most passenger aircraft, the Erusean C-1’s lacked windows outside of those on the doors. Trigger hated having a lack of situational awareness where the aircraft was, and not having an orientation on a horizon also bothered him immensely.

The whole feeling reminded Trigger of his time as a primary instrument student in Heierlark. Like with many students in his class, he suffered from ‘The Leans’, the flight surgeons briefing was long winded and about medical terms that went over Trigger’s head, but what he figured was that what his body was telling him, and what his eyes were seeing rarely ever agreed. He found amusement in a memory of flying an ILS approach into one of the airbases outer lying fields in a T-38 with his head planted firmly on the canopy desperately trying to keep the needles on his HSI centered all the while combating the urge to vomit. As he progressed however, Trigger learned to ignore the feelings and trust the avionics.

Lacking any avionics for his eyes to trust, Trigger once again started getting the uncomfortable tug in his stomach once again. He envied Cossette’s apparently indifference to the situation.

***

Trigger stepped off the Jet onto the ramp of Farbanti International Airport. He was glad to stretch his legs after the four-and-a-half-hour flight from Selatapura. He looked around to see multiple members of the media gathered to take photos of the Princess as she made her return to her nations Capital.

Trigger noticed that patrolling along the outskirts of the ramp was both Osean and Erusean soldiers, along with multiple Osean aircraft littering the ramp.

While this was her grand return, there was no question that Farbanti was still under Osean occupation.

Hearing his proper name shouted out caught Trigger’s attention, he could see a small collection of Erusean and Osean military waiving him over. Trigger quickly jaunted to them.

“Can I help you?” Trigger asked, looking for a rank or name insignia. An Osean Lieutenant Colonel Spoke up. “Are you the Air Defense Force Major attached to the Princesses Cabinet?” he shouted over the commotion of the ramp.

“Yes Sir!” Trigger shouted back.

“Major, this is your Erusean counterpart, Colonel Emmanuel Andres” The Osean Colonel introduced one of the Erusean’s.

Colonel Andres looked to be in his early fifties by Trigger’s guess. He wore an Erusean Air Force utility uniform, His skin was tanned and leathery, and his hair and mustache had prematurely greyed and thinned. As well, standing next to Trigger and the Osean Colonel, the man’s height was diminutive. Trigger was only briefly told about Andres from Cossette, and all she knew was that he was one of the few original Conservatives from the first Continental war.

The Osean Lieutenant Colonel turned to Andres “Colonel Andre’s You probably know this man better as ‘Three Strikes’, im sure his name crossed your desk more than once!” He said jovially, slapping Trigger’s shoulder. Trigger noticed a flash of emotion across the Colonel’s face when he heard the nickname.

Trigger held out his hand in a greeting “It’s a pleasure to work with you Colonel!” he shouted, Andre’s pursed his lips and ignored the handshake. He whispered something to an aid and walked off to the confusion of Trigger.

Trigger turned his attention to the Osean Lieutenant Colonel, his nametape on his ACU’s read WOODS.

“Colonel Woods, is there something I can help with?” Trigger asked.

The Colonel grinned “Can’t say there is Major. I’m just glad you got that bag of sunshine off my hands! General Shepard’s office already told me what you’re here for so don’t really worry about any major reporting.”

“Sir, if I may ask, what’s your role in all of this?” Trigger motioned to the greater area.

Wood’s nodded in understanding

“Im the third armor div’s battalion commander. General Jefferson has my unit overseeing the Airfields security. The Unit you’ll probably deal with is the Airborne since they’re running security for Downtown and the Palace. Colonel Padbury will be the head guy to talk to there.” Woods explained.

Trigger tried desperately to recall the crash-course of information he had studied the night previous. The Osean Ground Defense Force had five separate battalions stationed in Farbanti. The one’s Trigger expected was the 3^rd Armored, who had already taken to calling themselves “First in Farbanti”, and  the 101^st Airborne, who had been later arrivals to support the beleaguered Osean 2^nd Marines who had taken the brunt of the counter-insurgency fighting in the city following the civil war’s outbreak.

Trigger had wanted to push his time in Farbanti as far out of his memory as he could.

“Well Thank you for the warm welcome sir. Is there anything else I will need to do while im here?” Trigger asked.

Woods thought for a moment “I mean you may want to talk to Padbury when you get to the Palace, but aside from that, your on a special assignment, and Shepard already told Jefferson to leave you be so, do whatever I guess.” The Colonel replied nonchalantly.

Trigger excused himself and watched from the sidelines with the other advisors as Cossette finished her speech.

Almost immediately, a convoy of government vehicles pulled up, well dressed Erusean Military opened the doors and started directing where each passenger was to be.

In Trigger’s vehicle, was Thorogood and the Erusean Secretary of Education, a portly man who Trigger had largely managed to forget. Trigger noticed the Secretary of Energy’s eyes roll as she saw him climb into the large suburban.

 

The convoy sped down the main freeway leading into Farbanti’s downtown, escorted by both Police and military vehicles

“So. Major, do you have any particular thoughts of our city?” Thorogood asked pointedly.

“A lot bigger from the ground.” Trigger grunted

“How do you mean?”

“I’ve only seen it from a few thousand feet.” Trigger answered

“Oh? Were you one of the pilots during the invasion?” She probed

“Nope, just only seen it from an airliner’s window. You know, high school senior trip to Expo City.” Trigger lied.

The Education secretary perked up at the slight mention of school. “So Major, where did you go to School?” He asked, trying to continue the small talk.

Trigger shrugged at the personal question “Many places, Parents were military so, Kinda moved around a bit growing up.” He said, avoiding the question.

“I always wondered how you Osean’s do schooling over there.” The man asked aloud. Thorogood snorted, “Now Melissa, theres no reason you can’t be civil.” The man chided.

“Shut the fuck up Herman” she hissed, causing Herman to shrink slightly.

The ride to the Palace was silent the rest of the way.