Jake "Rodeo" Killian's Story

"Lucky shot! I've got a crisp twenty that says you can't hit it again," the reserve crewman said with a scoff, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the dressed-down officer before him.

"Reckon the only thing I'd bet on, other than me being able to it hit all day long, is that you don't have two nickels to rub together. Tell you what, though," the young officer said, tipping back the brim of the cowboy hat shielded his sharp eyes from the morning sun, "I make this shot and you find a way to scrounge up four juicy steaks for Phantom Squadron at mess tonight. Deal?"

THe enlistedman, always happy to be reminded of his station as an attendant at the base's mess hall, grumbled beneath his breath before finally nodding. "Deal."

"Now, let's go to work." 1st Lieutenant Jake Killian set his sights on the target. Back behind the auxiliary maintenance hangars on the base, a steep drop-off separated the grassy flat from the jagged edge of the water lapping up against the base. Roughly 150 yards out from the edge of the water was a large floating bouy marking the demarcation lines around the base. It had become something of a tradition on base for anyone handy with a golf club to take their best swing from the grassy knoll and try to ping the bouy. Now, Killian was on tap to do it twice in one morning.

Teeing up the ball and sizing up his target, Killian address the ball and closed his eyes for a moment. His ability to see "through" a situation had always served him well, especially as a combat aviator. Of course, Phantom Squadron and the recall made his original flight team and chances at glory seem like the distant past even if it had been less than a year. They were all looking for a chance to prove themselves, and Killian's chance was going to come as the fourth wing on a new squadron. For now, however, all his focus was on the ball.

Acrhing back with a slow and paced backswing, Killian felt the muscles in his back and legs stretch out with the appropriate tension. He hestitated for the most fleeting of moments before turning that tension into power with a swing forward.

"Urgent! All personnel scramble immediately! This base is under air and sea attack! I repeat, all personnel scramble immediately! This is a drill!"

The sudden burst of transmission caught them both completely off guard, causing Killian to pull up with the club and shank the ball harmless about seventy yards into the ocean, not even within earshot of the target.

"Sorry, but duty calls," he said after a hefty load of curses upon the ball, the announcement, the drill, and just about anything else in sight.

Within five minutes he was in the hanger and slipping into a flightsuit, getting a quick rundown from the duty officer on roster charged with the upkeep and maintenance of the birds. The F-15C Eagle. While the OADF force and a number of other militaries across the world sought to improve themselves through the development of new and more advanced technology in the world of combat aviation, there was beauty in the rugged simplicity, durability, and effectiveness of the Eagle. Along with the F-16C Fighting Falcon, it was one of the most durable planes around and could keep flying without a lot of expensive maintenance while providing a suprising amount of firepower for the pilot. 15 standard AIM-9 Sidewinder Missles as well as 8 SAAMs made it a formiable air superiority craft in any setting.

Running through the checklist and making that everything was in order, 1st Lt. Killian pulled into taxi formation to ease onto the runway, feeling the pressure change slightly in his ears at the sealing of his bubble cockpit window.

"Tower, this is Rodeo. Requesting clearance for take-off."

"Rodeo, Tower. Stand by, you are in the cue."

"Roger."

One plane launched. And then another. Even though he was only a minute behind them, Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy for the pilots launching into the sweet freedom of the skies. You had to be a certain kind of crazy to agree to being rocketed through the heavens with a rocket attached to your ass. Luckily, Jake Killian was the right kind of crazy.

"Rodeo, Tower. You are cleared for take-off."

"About time," he said, punching the throttle and feeling the initial force pressing him back into the F-15C's cockpit. The place continued to race down the runway, picking up speed until, finally, a gentle pull back on the stick and Killian found him smiling. He was airborne.

"Tower, Rodeo. I am airbone and joining drill. Designation Phantom 4."

"Roger that, Phantom 4. Altitude restrictions cancelled. Good hunting."

Pulling himself up and getting a bearing for the locations in the sky and everything else currently pinging on his radar, Rodeo threw the Eagle for a slow and looping curve around Crescent Island while gaining altitude. Everyone else, it seemed, was doing everything just to make sure they were in the right place at the right time.

"Phantom Flight, this is Rodeo. Sing out and let me know what we're chasin' down today."

Although hidden behind the mask buckled to his flight helmet, Jake Killian's lips spread into a wide grin as frantic bursts of chatter dances through the radio waves and into his helmet. Somewhere on the ground, some grizzled veteran was probably having a good laugh at all of them, taking far too much pleasure in all of them trying to keep their wits about them just getting their planes in the air and sliding into formation, let alone completing combat drills or, heaven forbid, real combat.

To say that Rodeo had more experience than the rest of Phantom Squadron was like saying that he was the oldest kid in a class full of first graders. Three months of peacetime patrol duty didn't mean a thing and the civilian instruction with which he tried to pay the bills before being reinstated in the OADF didn't compare. Single-propeller planes just didn't translate to the controls of an F/A-18 Hornet.

The PT boat was showing not only on his radar, but also visually as he peered into the distance. Good time run a full systems check. Reaching down and taking his eyes off the horizon and the world flying by his bubble canopy for a few seconds, Killian adjusted for a moment to watch his fingers fumbled to check his targeting system, switching from air-to-air targeting to air-to-ground.

"There, not so -- shit!" The pilot lifted his eyes in time to realize that he'd pressed on the rudder just enough that the Hornet was slowly drifted laterally and about to cross into the flight line of one of his squadron mates. In this case, his carelessness for a moment was damn close to putting the wing of his Hornet right into the nose of Rapier's Mirage 2000.

"Shit!" He cursed again, two hands flying down to the control stick just long enough to pull himself out of the drift, causing the entire plane to rock as he slid away and out of formation for a few seconds. Too close for comfort and not exactly the kind of impression he wanted to make on a simple training run if he was eventually going to find himself appointed flight lead as he'd originally hoped.

"Goddamn rookie mistake. Pull your head out," he growled to himself, slowly edging the Hornet back into formation with the others and stablizing into a level flight speed, this time punching the com button to actually broadcast his thoughts for once instead of allowing them to echo in his head.

"Okay crew, I'm not showing anything on the radar that isn't supposed to be there. Flight Lead, permission to arm LASM armaments and prepare for potential simulated surface-based bogeys. I'm a'itchin' for a fight today."

Blaze shifted in her cockpit seat as she watched the other members of Phantom Squadron slowly beginning to make their way to her. First was Phantom 3, callsign Rapier. She didn't know much about this one except from the comms that it was another woman. It felt kind of nice not being the only woman in the Squad, and it gave Blaze a slight boost in both comfort and confidence. However, daydreaming was always a threat from her and this time it nearly cost her.

From behind her Phantom 4 almost collided with Phantom 3, and her shaky nerves took over her reflexes as she jerked her flight stick to the right to avoid another possible collision. She quickly regained control of her craft, however, and put herself back into proper position in the current formation.

"Phew..." She whispered to herself.

She knew that, while most of the others didn't see that little mishap, the top brass watching her certainly did. It made her nervous to know that they had called in some of the highest ranking officers to observe the new Squadrons in action. Both the Lieutenant Commander and the Base Commander himself were present. Not only that, but from the briefing she got a couple days ago she knew that there were also veteran pilots watching them too.

The last part became all too clear when the Pilot known as "Legend" came onto the comms.

Legend to Phantom Squadron, showboating is for the simulators ladies. Get your heads out your asses and fly straight or touch down and save us having to scrape you off the pavement... You get me?" His powerful and authoritative voice commanded.

She took a breath and then looked down. Her hands were shaking a little on the stick from being nervous about who was watching. It was similar to stage fright in high school, but this was on another level entirely. She got a grip on herself a moment later and flicked her communicator back on.

"This is Blaze, roger." She said before shutting off her comm.

Her response was a bit hasty, but she wanted to make a good impression. A quick response showed how well you were paying attention, and most of her life she had responded quickly when spoken to. Some people called her a suck up for doing so, or a teacher's pet, but in Blaze's mind it was just being polite and prompt. She didn't see anything wrong with responding quickly to requests and orders, but because of all the taunts she got it was another area of self consciousness for her as she tried to clear her mind while she waited for Phantom 1 to arrive.

While she was at it, she flicked on her comm to talk to the others as she set the channel to private so only the Squadron could hear her. This whole time her comm had been on one way so she could hear what they said without them listening to her unless she flipped her channel setting to public. It was a handy modification she made to her helmet and communication system a while back, which was another small chunk of her rather full debt, but it gave her privacy in the cockpit when she wanted it.

"Phantom 2 to Phantom Squadron, are we all okay?" She asked.

Woops...Wrong location ==

Elincia was impressed but also worried by Kreiss's outburst.

Going against Legend like that was sure to have repercussions when he landed after the drill ended. Still, she couldn't help but admire his defiance, as it was something she couldn't do. Wherever she went, she was obedient towards those higher on the ladder than she was. Coming from a home with an abusive and commanding father, she learned to listen well very quickly and it became a part of who she was to obey orders. The only time she didn't was when they came from someone lower than her on the ladder, and that was only if she knew they were bad orders that could get someone killed.

She was about to say something to Kreiss when her radio came to life again.

"Tower to Phantom Squadron, break formation and prepare to engage bandits at altitude 6,000. You will have five minutes to eliminate as many targets as you can before switching positions with Corona Squadron at Point Beta for anti-ship operations. Once at Point Beta you will have six minutes to eliminate as many targets as you can. Targets will be on a continuous stream until the drill has come to an end or until you are shot down..."

The radio went silent for a few moments.

"Phantom Squadron, engage!" They ordered.



As soon as the radio went quiet, the drill officially began and the clock started ticking down. In her visor's simulation display she could see bandits appear both on radar and within her line of site as glowing outlines of plane shapes flying above her at the designated altitude. The moment they were in her sight she hit the throttle and broke away from the rest of her Squadron towards the heavens. It didn't take long before she had the first bogey in her sights, but she also found herself with one on her tail which was aiming to get a lock onto her plane.

She had to swerve a little to avoid potential incoming fire from the bandit at her six, but she managed to keep the first one in her sights as she fired her gun at it. Gliding left and right, the bogey managed to avoid her gunfire and banked hard to its left. She kept up with it as she continued to focus on lining up her sights with the aircraft while doing what she could to avoid incoming fire from the rear. For what it was worth, this was very much like a simulation, the only difference being that now she was in a real plane. While it did unnerve her a little bit, she treated it like what it was, a simulation. She knew that whether or not she was in fact shot down, or whether or not she managed to bring down her opponents, this was not real and just for further training.

All around her the sky was chaos as the others weaved to and fro, ducked and dived, looped and banked to stay ahead of the game and grab as many kills as they could within the time limit. She had to concentrate whenever she came within a certain distance of her Squadron members, but when she knew they weren't too near she let herself relax and did what she had to in order to stay ahead of the game herself and avoid fire while taking down bandits as the timer ticked by towards zero.

That thought in mind, she began to push her plane a little bit further than recommended by the flight crew and banked harder to line her gun sight ahead of her target as she pulled the trigger and fired. The bullets hit home and brought the bogey down, her first unofficial kill.

"Phantom Two, first bandit down. Moving to the next!" She said over the comm.

Suddenly there was another voice over the radio.

"Phantom Two, exercise caution. That plane is old and not in the same condition it used to be. If you push too hard the stress on the airframe will rip the plane apart! Pull back on the High-G turns immediately unless you want to replace this plane too."

The jab by the Tower about replacing the plane hurt, but she shook it off and accepted the order. While she knew that the plane could go further, she decided that it was best not to push its limits at this time. She had no way to pay for another plane's damages, and was only just starting to pay off the first plane she trashed.

"Phantom Two, roger. Easing up on the High-G turns." She replied.

She continued to fly as before, but did little to push the turns as she had done to take down her first bandit. Over the course of the next five minutes, she only managed to bag two more before the drill came to an end. One with a missile to the engine, and one with bullets to the cockpit. As the timer hit zero, she checked her missile reserve and gun ammunition to see what she had to work with during the anti-ship portion of the drill.



Her missile count was at six, her UGB's were still at ten since she hadn't used any, and her gun ammo was down to three hundred bullets. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either if the enemies were really going to be continuously flowing at them. Given that ships were easier to kill than planes given their slower movement, she expected to do better once they got to Point Beta, but only time would tell.

"This is Blaze to Phantom Squadron, preparing to exit combat airspace and move to Point Beta. Now awaiting your order Phantom One." She said.

The training had begun. Time to break formation. Kreiss watched as Phantoms 2 and 3 flew off in their respective directions without further ado. He made no move to give out commands, not trusting his tactical knowledge and leadership skills at all. Instead, he lowered his throttle input to slow down and let Phantom 4's F/A-18 overtake him. He slowed down to a considerable pace, taking note of the swarm that was starting to appear on his visor. He glanced over to check up on Phantoms 2 and 3's progress every once in a while. They seemed to be doing well.

One of the bogeys had set it's sights on Kreiss, trying to place itself at a good angle to possibly fire a missile shot. Kreiss swerved from side to side, not wanting to stay in one place for too long, in case the bogey wanted to fire a homing missile such as the F-15C's SAAM. Despite the danger at 6 o'clock, he kept an eye out for Phantom 4.Phantom 4 was caught in between two bogeys, on in front, possibly as a diversion while the one behind could get a clear shot of the F/A- 18.

"Rodeo! Danger at 6 o'clock. Swerve until I get there! Do not attempt to shoot the bogey before you! It's a distraction! " he called out, increasing his speed, while his pursuer followed suit.

'The last thing you want to do is chase another jet. It's a disadvantage. I wonder how many people know that? ' he thought to himself, starting to climb towards the bogey behind Rodeo. The chaser would forever be under the whims of the chased, all the chased had to do was keep on flying and possibly pull out a couple of maneuvers. The chaser, on the other hand, had to predict, and had to make the RIGHT predictions.

"Phantom 4, keep your speed uniform. Do not increase your speed. I'm intercepting the bogey at your 6!" he informed, bringing his craft into a barrel roll,ascending above and coming down, intercepting the bogey behind Phantom 4. As expected from AIs, the bogey chasing after Kreiss immediately followed and crashed into it's comrade's glowing figure. Kreiss grinned at his success as the two glowing planes flickered in a jumbled mess in his visor.

"Those don't register as kills now, do they? I have to shoot them. But to hell with it. " he yelled over to his squadron before focusing on Rodeo. "Alright Phantom 4, you've got a bandit in front of you.Let's try and get it."

No sooner had he said it, when another bogey came up behind him, another chaser. He could pull off another collision if this bogey decided to still chase after him. Now below Rodeo's F/A- 18, the F-15C slowly overtook it's comrade plane and angled towards Rodeo's bandit. He brought the plane into a steep angle of attack upwards, causing the bandit's AI to slowdown and angle upwards as well to avoid a collision. However, from that angle of attack, Kreiss decided into an inside loop, cutting off even more of the bandit's escape, causing it to continue moving upwards. He felt the familiar pull of gravity and the force of the acceleration, a discomfort, but not unbearable.

"Aim above, Rodeo! Bag the kill! " he yelled over to Phantom 4, returning from the inside loop. To his surprise, it seems that the bogey that was chasing after him had it's AI reacting to Kreiss's style and adjusted accordingly, decided not to chase. Now, Kreiss had a bandit in sight.

"If you want to play it that way, then let's go. " he said, proceeding into a chase. The bandit was rather skillful and managed to evade 7 of the F-15C's missiles and managed to avoid several of it's burst machine gun fires. A large amount of the machine gun ammo had been wasted,more or less about 300 of them. Eventually, after a lengthy chasing time, and the wastage of 3 more missiles and another 100 machine gun ammo, the bandit decided to move into a Chandelle maneuver, banking into a 180 degree turn while steadily climbing. Kreiss reacted to this by bringing the more mobile F-15C into a Canopy Roll, angling straight for the bandit from below.He fired off a missile that blew into the underside of the bandit plane. But that wasn't enough to bring it down. Kreiss returned to the chase by recovering from the Canopy Roll quickly. This time, the gap has closed between them due to the usage of the Canopy Roll. A few more fires of the machine gun took off one of the bandit's glowing wings. And that was the end for that bandit.

"I've got one, got one. " he relayed the information over. He had spent so much time aiming for that one fella, he had only managed to shoot one down. The timer was almost over and Kreiss went over his ammo stats. He had not used any of his SAAM, hoping to save them for the anti-ship segment, knowing that the F-15 C ultimately had no proper air-to-ground, or in this case, ocean, ammunition. The SAAM was a good substitute for that. And with the slow movements of the ships, Kreiss was sure he was going to bag more for this run.



It was possible that he was the one who grabbed the least kills at the current moment, unless they counted the collision as 2 kills. Left with 8 SAAMs, 5 missiles and mere total of around 230 machine gun ammunition, Kreiss had the feeling that he was doing rather badly compared to the rest of the others. Not a very satisfying outcome. He gave a disheartened sigh and radioed in to the Phantom Squadron.

"This is Angel, Phantom Squadron, prepare to leave for Point Beta soon. "

The exchange between their flight lead and the brass back at the base caused Killian to cringe in the cockpit as he ran one more check over his flight systems to ensure that he was set for simulated weapons release rather than life-fire in the middle of a training exercise. He wasn't about to have to scrounge up the cash to pay for a missle he wasn't authorized to fire. Then again, it seems that the real shooting was going on verbally at the moment.

"Thanks a lot for that, Angel," Killian cracked across the radio. "I was just sitting here hoping that you'd shoot your mouth off and make sure that none of us see a day of leave between now and kingdom come, so I guess we all owe you a big one for that."

The brass couldn't force them to land or fly they way command wanted, but they sure as hell could keep every single one of them from ever seeing the inside of a cockpit again. Jake Killian had already faced what was supposed to be the end of his career as an aviator once and didn't have any aspirations to start down that trail a second time.

"Tally-ho! Bandit, 2 o'clock high! Breaking formation and turning to engage."

The F/A-18 Hornet banked away from the formation with a gliding turn to the right before engaging afterburners and climbing. Rodeo closed within a few seconds and visually identified the bogey as a MiG-21 Fishbed. Antiquated by most standards, it was a production-line aircraft used because it was cheap to produce and could keep flying even with damn near half a wing blown off the thing. Exactly the kind of plane that could make a third-world country a headache if they found enough pilots to keep the things in the air for more than five minutes.

The MiG-21 didn't seem to register the F/A-18 pulling behind it as Rodeo flipped over and allowed his radar targeting system to begin "painting" his target for a lock on a simulated AIM-9 Sidewinder missile. Just a few more seconds and the kill would be his. The plane still didn't react with any defensive manueuvers once Rodeo achieved a missile lock, instead attempting to burn out and speed away from the encounter. No change that the Fishbed could outrun the Hornet at this altitude.

"Easy pickin'. Phantom Four, Fox Tw--" His finger was halfway down on the trigger when the burst transmission into his helmet caused him to ease away.

"Rodeo! Danger at 6 o'clock. Swerve until I get there! Do not attempt to shoot the bogey before you! It's a distraction!"

Glancing down at the radar, Killian suddenly became acutely aware of the bogey that he'd missed before, another fighter was closing in on his six. Unsure of how he'd missed it an unsure of the make-up of the bogey without a visual ID, Rodeo cursed aloud.

"And just how is not shooting down a sure-fire kill right in front of me going to change anything about having someone creeping on my tail. I swear to Go-- Ugh!" He screamed into the radio. "Fine. Defensive manuevers."

Rodeo did indeed fire a passing shot at the Fishbed in the hopes that he still might be able to bag the kill before complying with orders, but the missile didn't hold the lock and sailed harmlessly away according to the simulations. Banking left, the G-force of the turn threw his body back into the angled seat of the Hornet's cockpit. He didn't need to crane his head back to see that the pursuer kept turn with him, trying to close in enough to be in range for a weapons lock. Rodeo had no intention of getting shot down during his first encounter with a new squadron.

"Phantom 4, keep your speed uniform. Do not increase your speed. I'm intercepting the bogey at your 6!"

Rodeo didn't bother to send back anything, instead complying with the orders of his flight lead and levelling himself out of the turn that might have eventually broke his pursuers angle. Instead, Rodeo planed into level flight and eased off the thruster. There was nothing now to do but wait. Wait for the missle lock. Wait to be "shot down" and then find himself without a kill and without a successful mission to show after waiting almost a year to get his second shot in the cockpit. Wait to die.

The kill, however, never came. It took a few seconds for Rodeo to register exactly what happened behind him, but the exultant exuberations of his flight lead made it a little easier to understand the stunts going on behind him.

"Alright Phantom 4, you've got a bandit in front of you. Let's try and get it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you talking about the sure kill that I just lost visual on because you ordered me to hang myself out their like bait on hook so you could play Evil Kenivel? I'm engaging."

The Fishbed from earlier had broken into a long, looping turn searching for a target down in the cloudy soup below where the defensive climb had taken Rodeo. The F/A-18 Hornet turned into down into a steep dive as the targeting system again began to paint the MiG-21. The bogey realized it was a target this time and tried to manuever away, but the downward angle and dive of the Hornet was too much for the underpowered aircraft to escape. Missile lock.

"Phantom Four, Fox two!" Rodeo burst with a release of the Sidewinder missile. The angle was too clean for a defensive manuever and the target blipped off the radar.

"Yeah! Splash one!"

As soon as the Hornet broke through the clouds, however, terror set in. After what couldn't have been more than two seconds for Rodeo's fighter/attacker to cut through the cloud cover, his eyes adjusted to a plane he hadn't seen yet and one that surely hadn't seen him. It was a slower attacker-style craft that he didn't have time to ID, but he knew that it was going to be a collision if he didn't act quickly.

What happened next was pure reflex and nothing more. Jack Killian felt his left hand grip and slam back on the throttle to cut out the air speed he'd built during the killing dive, his right foot kicking down on the rudder with all the force of a bucking bull to throw him into enough of a turn to avoid the crash. Simultaneously, the pilot's right thumb flipped up the selector knob on the flight stick and switched from AIM-9 sidewinder missiles to guns. The nearby index finger loosed a spray of ammunition.

As two more seconds passed by, the guns stayed true and plastered a line of holes down the fuselage of the bogey that brought about his second kill. The turn to avoid the collision, however, had sent Rodeo into a hard, flat spin down and away.

"Shit, shit, shit," he repeated as he attempted to regaining control of the falling aircraft, pressed forward in the cockpit thanks to the lurching spin. The force of the spin as well as the air pressure on the outside of the craft made it impossible, even for his atheltic frame, to put enough pressure to turn the rudder against the momentum of the craft. Finally, he was able to bank just enough to break out of the spin and gain control of the flight, albeit just barely above the mission's hard deck and away from the engagement.

By the time that Rodeo was able to get back into the soup, Killian tried to chase down another bogey and took a few more shots, but nothing registered as a hit and he came up empty the rest of the way out.

"This is Angel, Phantom Squadron, prepare to leave for Point Beta soon."

"Phantom 4, complying. Blaze, Rapier, hope you guys had a little more fun than I did."

"This is Angel, Phantom Squadron, prepare to leave for Point Beta soon."

Elincia thought to herself for a moment after a quick mental analysis of what had transpired during that first half of the drill.

"... Angel... right." She said under her breath while her comm was off.

"Phantom 4, complying. Blaze, Rapier, hope you guys had a little more fun than I did."

She flipped her comm on to the private frequency which she was now nicknaming Phantom Frequency, more for her own private amusement than anything else.

"Not so much Rodeo... not so much." She said somewhat sadly.

She shook it off though, as now they were turning hard to the south to engage ships on the Ocean. She armed her UGB's and prepared herself for what was coming. She had always done fairly well with her UGB's in the simulator, but this was much more realistic and unpredictable. Ships were often divided into one of three groups: Attack, Support, and Launch. Carriers were always the biggest threat as they could launch additional aircraft which was likely something they'd see in the upcoming drill once they reached Point Bravo. Attack ships usually carried SAMs on board while the support ships usually carried some form of ECM to give their fighters from the carriers an edge in combat.

If they faced all three today, it'd be a true shit storm.

She decided that if she saw a carrier it would be her first target. Taking out a ship which can launch aircraft was essential to air superiority missions when over the open Ocean. The less fighters there were to contend with, the more likely they were to succeed in taking out their real targets instead of dealing with mosquitoes.

"This is Blaze, I'm heading out to Point Beta now. ETA, one minute." She said calmly.

This time, however, when she was finished, she reversed the frequency so only the tower could hear her. She had something she needed to get off her chest with the brass and now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Tower, this is Phantom Two. Is Phantom One really fit for command? His style is... unorthodox to say the least, and I have concerns with his head strong tactics and his lack of logical thinking. It's not becoming of a Squadron Leader."

She could only hope that she'd receive a straight answer, as the brass typically didn't care much for questions from the lower ranks and usually brushed them aside with evasive answers that didn't really address the question.

Air-to-ground operations. Already, Jake was starting to feel more comfortable as he adjusted his targeting system and eased back slightly on the throttle of the F/A-18 Hornet. True to the multi-role jet's name, the Fighter and Attacker roles for the Hornet made it a versatile craft capable of launching from carriers and serving as a cornerstone for any naval-based air wing. The current payload, however, was all about being a deadly Attacker. Eight Long-range Air-To-Surface Missles (LASMs) provided the most lethal air-to-ground weapon in the Phantom Squadron arsenal at the moment. Blaze's unguided bombs were technically more powerful, but the range and lock-on ability of the LASMs made them undeniably valuable.

One of those LASMs found its target, painting and erasing a small surface support ship as part of the target fleet Phantom Squadron had its sights on for the second part of their mission.

"Phantom 4. Control, confirm my kill on an anti-air missile battery ship. Should give us one less thing to worry about once those fighters hit the skies," he spoke into his com, easing into a long turn as he adjusted his sights once again.

Rodeo had a new target on his mind. Unfortunately, he knew that all three of his squadron mates also looking to make a name for themselves would be gunning for the same target. They were all going to be gunning for the big carrier, the top score of the mission.

"Hey, how's about one of you fatcat aerial payout kids lay down a little cover on my six and we'll see if we can't find a home for one of these missles right down Mama Carrier's backside? I could go for a pretty pretty fireworks show this morning."

Kreiss watched as Blaze pulled out the offense, sinking a ship already. He had heard that Blaze had achieved the highest score in simulations, a feat that was commendable, and earned multiple admiration from Kreiss, who had always failed simulation programs.

"This is Angel, good shot there, Phantom 2! " he commended over the radio.At the same time, he witnessed as Rodeo sunk another support ship. "Well done, Phantom 4."

He was among incredible pilots, one can be considered a born prodigy with almost perfect scores in simulations, the other a pilot with more experience than any of the other squadron members put together. Even Phantom 3...was so far displaying even better results compared to him. What was he? Just an Airman First Class with only 1 kill in the entire simulation at the current moment. Not even capable of getting a good shot with his ammunition, wasting all of it. Even ending up giving a well-known and incredible higher-up a witty comeback. And yet he was given the role of a flight lead.

'...Sometimes, I question your decisions...' he thought to himself, the shadowy image of an officer embedded in his thoughts.

"Blaze to Phantom Squadron... Enemy carrier detected on radar. It's starting to launch fighters as I speak. Now moving in for an attack!"

"Hey, how's about one of you fatcat aerial payout kids lay down a little cover on my six and we'll see if we can't find a home for one of these missles right down Mama Carrier's backside? I could go for a pretty pretty fireworks show this morning."

Kreiss watched as it seemed that both Phantom 2 and Phantom 4 had set their sights on the same target. Kreiss felt a small spark of anger. That was all they were thinking about? Gaining more scores for the benefits? Especially Rodeo... They had completely disregarded his talk about treating the simulation as the real thing. No doubt that things would've already gotten ugly by the time they realized their mistake.

"Phantom 3! Bogey at 6! " he called out as he noticed an almost unnoticeable speck starting to make it's way towards the Mirage-2000. "It's still a few ways from you, but just be careful! "

"This is Edge to Blaze and Rodeo..." he spoke out to the comm, for the first time utilizing the special callsign that he had tried keeping a secret from others, always using 'Angel' in place of it. Despite addressing only Blaze and Rodeo, he had also kept the comm on for Rapier. "I won't speak as 'Angel' anymore. I speak as 'Edge'. What did I tell you guys? Treat this as the real thing, treat this as if it's possible for you to die. Did you guys hear that? Do you guys hear that?"

He paused, letting it sink. Then he continued.

"By treating this as a simulation, all we have in our minds are to grab the most kills and the most important targets to obtain the highest score, all the same while not giving a damn if we could be shot down at anytime. Because in a simulation, we can't fucking get shot down. That false sense of security will be a large bane in real missions. You understand?"

He paused once more.

"I tell you guys once more. Treat this as if your lives are on the line. That is all."

Kreiss had never given off such a speech before. Even his head ached a little from the conflicted notions. He tried to think of who should be given the large carrier as a responsibility...Both Rodeo and Blaze seemed eager to go for it...Then it clicked. Kreiss decided to give his tactic a go.

"Rodeo, you will be Blaze's wingman. Blaze, I'm going to give you the full assault on the carrier. Do what you will with it and take it down. For the current moment, Rodeo will be 'cold'. Rodeo, when Blaze gets targeted, immediately switch to 'hot' and start firing down on the carrier while Blaze moves away. Both of you interchange between being 'hot' and 'cold' if you have to." he handed out the orders. He wasn't sure how effective the strategy would be. But given the fact that they were targeting an important carrier, there were bound to be obstructions by enemy planes. And so the 'hit-and-run' tactic with both pilots changing between the 'hot' and 'cold' roles would definitely test the AI's intelligence. Would the AI continue to chase the 'cold' attacker, or would they backtrack for the 'hot' attacker, allowing the 'cold' attacker to return 'hot'? Kreiss nearly bursted out laughing imagining the AI going crazy in their confusion. AIs were easily predictable, the options were quite limited in comparison to the always spontaneous minds of a real human.

"When the carrier's taken out,return to aiming for more threatening targets. Any ships with anti-air missiles should be taken out as soon as you can. Support ships can come in last. And lastly, watch your backs in case any enemy plane decides to take you out. "

With that, he banked to the side and scanned the fleet, finally settling on an anti-air ship. Without giving it a chance to fire out it's anti-air missiles, he sunk it with 2 of his SAAMs and 1 missile. The ship never had a chance to escape being tracked by the SAAMs.

"Choosing to leave the SAAMs for this section was probably a good choice. But imagine if we didn't know what the next drill was... Would I have left the SAAMs unused? They should really change the training so that it becomes unpredictable, just like a real mission. A real challenge, in my opinion." he pondered to himself, not knowing he had left the comms on. Now everyone would hear what he had just said.

Somewhere inside, Jake Killian snapped. He'd had enough of the junior airment who, as fair as Rodeo was concerned, had been arbitrarily placed in command of their squadron and had done nothing so far but make decisions that wouldn't have flown if they'd been toddlers playing in a sandbox. Not that his frustration from earlier wasn't apparently, but was paling in comparison to the rage burning inside of him now.

"Edge, Rodeo. You are a fucking joke. You want to jump up on your high horse and talk to us about real tactics? What did you call that video game stunt you tried to pull back there that just as likely could've caused us to clip and get somebody killed? By my tally, you're the only one that's done anything to almost get someone killed out here."

As much as Killian wanted to engaged his afterburners and risk getting in the one shot that could potential cripple the main target and the prize of the enemy unit presented to them, he knew that his outbursts were going to sting him hard enough without having to justify why he directly disobeyed orders during a training run.

"Yeah, that's great. Let's have our two air-to-surface specialists take turns covering each other from the air-to-air threats while our two planes specifically suited to air-to-air combat do whatever they want. Convenient for someone wanting to rack up kills on their own, isn't it?"

He was done spewing venom for the time being, switching off his comm and cursing a few times as he adjusted his speed. Locating Phantom 2 on his radar, he looped slowly to pull into formation with Blaze's craft, to the right and about a plane's length to the rear of the pilot. The manuveur had given him just enough time to calm down, at least now that he was talking to someone that he was sure wasn't as crazy and incompetent.

"Blaze, Rodeo. I've got your wing and will be watching your six. You're calling the shots on this one, I'm just your trail and follow."

Switching over from LASM targeting to standard AIM-9 Sidewinders, Rodeo began to scan the air around him manually rather than relying completely on his radar. Taking a risk with his own backside when it came to trying to score a kill was one thing, but the stakes changed when someone else was depending on his eyes to keep a missle from playing tag with their tailpipe.

"If we can take down Mama Cat, there's going to be a lot of little kitties flying around that will suddenly find themselves without a place to land. Easy pickings after that if I can keep them off your six. Just hope you're as good an aim with those things as everyone says you're supposed to be."

Kreiss closed his eyes at the sudden outburst he received. Alright. It's all alright. It's fine. This outburst was nothing to him as long as he prevented Blaze and Rodeo from arguing over who took the carrier. If he had just let Blaze and Rodeo go on with aiming for the same target, they would eventually clash with each other. This outburst was enough to prove it. Adverting that demise unto himself, was probably for the best call.

Throughout the ordeal, he listened, but never said a word. His patience for his squadron was amazing, as he always was during ground training with other pilots. He just never had a soft spot for officers who just started poking around in your business. And he had no right to start yelling back at those two. After all, it was his lack of experience that caused this. No one was going to listen to a greenhorn, and Kreiss himself knew it. Without ignoring the stabbing remarks made by Blaze, he winced at his lecture, but kept a firm look out for their Phantom 3, who was already under focus-fire. Just as Rapier began to blow her own anger off, Kreiss had already made a wide turn and painted 2 SAM ships each with 2 of his SAAMs, sinking them quickly. Behind Rapier, a bogey had appeared out of nowhere.

"3! Danger straight at 6! A.S.A.P!" he warned the pilot quickly. Drag-and-Bag. He continued to try and lock his sights straight on the bogey, but this particular bogey was doing extremely well, causing Kreiss to waste 1 SAAM, losing the paint and failing to track the bogey. One last SAAM to go.

'Do something good for once today. Save a teammate from elimination. NOW. ' he told himself in his mind. Instead of closing in like he used to, he slowed down and allowed his radar to track down the bogey. He fired the last SAAM at his disposal. The bogey tried once more to evade, but the distance and view made it easier for Kreiss to adjust his craft accordingly. As a last resort, the bogey completely relinquished the chase and banked away. Kreiss tried to give chase to allow the SAAM to reach it's intended target but failed once again when the bogey moved out of the radar's range. He banked incredibly hard, he could feel the groans and creak coming from his unrelenting turn against the nature of the craft. His bank was faster than the bogey's and they eventually ended up in a rolling scissors when the bogey decided to try and roll away from him. Slowly and surely, Kreiss gained the upperhand in the rolling scissors and fired 3 missiles, 2 of them managing to hit the bogey's wing, bring it down. As soon as that was over, he didn't celebrate but merely pulled out a deep dive.

"...I won't ask for anything else now. Just look after each other from here on out. The 3 of you. " he made the announcement over the comms, a huge trace of his enthusiasm completely vanishing from his once cheerful demeanor. Pulling out a fairly well executed though poorly controlled air strafe, he emptied the rest of his machine gun ammunition into the sides of several ships, trying to cause as much damage as he could for the rest of the Squadron. With a shaky recovery from the sideslip, he pulled up from his dive. He looked into his comms, to the Tower, to the other Phantoms.

"...Tower, prepare for a touchdown. " he said quietly. His lips brought itself into a forced smile. "I know it seems that I'm leaving the Squadron because I can't do any better. That may be true, but I think Phantom's had enough trouble from me for this drill. It would seem they'd do better without me anyway. So, Phantom, do your best out there until time's up. Do your best guys, it was good run. But not your best, you guys can do better. " The F-15C flew in the opposite direction from the one that the other Phantoms were moving towards. As he passed them, he brought his hand up for a salute. Down by one pilot, wasn't a difference to these guys. They were great. Better than he could ever be. He would only make things worse for them. He looked up at the skies. It was a brilliant day, shame to have it end in this fashion. It was probably going to be his last day flying through the skies. He was bound to be removed from the squadron and altogether removed from the OADF.

After savoring what was probably his last flight, he finally touched down and brought the F-15C into a skidding halt. Without waiting for the ground crew to bring in a ladder, he popped the lid and jumped off, heading straight to the Tower, knowing fully well who he had to face.

He knocked and walked in. He could see that none of the officers looked very pleased with him leaving, but nonetheless, he struck a salute before asking.

"May I ask permission to met with Lt. Colonel Danny? " as a response, a tall,well-groomed man in his late 20's with dark brown hair tucked underneath his pilot cap stood up and walked towards Kreiss.

"If you could give us a minute. " the officer, Danny, said out loud for the others to hear. And he kept a shoulder around the young pilot's shoulder before steering him out, closing the door behind them.

There was a long silence between them, until...

"...If you won't talk then I will. What happened out there, Kreiss?" the Lt. Colonel began. At this Kreiss quickly looked up and explained himself, not able to contain his voice even if the other officers inside could hear them. For the first time, he sounded extremely hurt...and disappointed.

"They won't listen to me, Danny! I told you nobody would! Nobody EVER listens to an Airman... I can't do anything if they don't listen. I just wanted to prevent those two from possibly getting into an argument! Having everyone aiming for the same darn thing wouldn't have done us any better favors! Sending 2 of them to interchange just so they could watch each other's back until they took down the carrier, then it's back to Phantom Squadron business! " he stopped for breath, panting raggedly from his immensely vocalized irritation. "Maybe I should've just kept quiet. "

"But that's not the job of a Flight Lead, isn't it? Members have to await your orders." mused the officer, raising an eyebrow.

"SCREW BEING A FLIGHT LEAD! Fuck it! I don't have what it takes. I'm not authoritative enough, I'm just a greenhorn that never scored perfectly for anything during simulations and now even 'Legend' knows just how bad I am. And I even talked back to him! I TALKED BACK TO HIM, DANNY!" he burst out, showing the huge regret written all over his face.

"Kreiss,Kreiss! Calm down!" soothed Danny, getting a firm grasp on Kreiss's shoulders to steady him. Kreiss breathed in and out several times, gulping down air as if he vitally needed it.

"I knew you had a shot at being the Flight Lead. That's why I recommended you. You'll get better at it with practice, heck, every officer started from where you were. We learn to be authoritative, Kreiss. And you're not a greenhorn, kid. What kind of greenhorn pulls out such a quick take-off that no one has ever seen?! Remember your first time for a real flight? You don't know how many officers were impressed. Something deemed impossible was accomplished that day, and I know you can accomplish even more. "

At this, Kreiss felt even more devastated. In a choked voice, he looked at the officer straight in the eyes.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you! I failed your expectations... I've failed everything that you thought I could do! You're the only one that believes in me and I've thrown that all down the drain!" Kreiss broke down, knowing that resisting it was futile.

"You haven't failed yet, you know? I'll ask them for one more chance. I'm not sure many of them would be fond of it. But one more chance. Maybe showing the way you want to protect them is a little more difficult during air combat than it is during firearms. But I'm sure you'll figure out the way. You're Edge after all. " the officer winked and clapped a solid hand on Kreiss's shoulder. "I know you've tried to hide that callsign to prevent getting attention. But be proud of it. The previous Edge was the previous Blaze's greatest wingman. Not everyone knows about that. But those who know, know how much Edge was willing to sacrifice for the Razgriz. And that form of protection was what I saw in you. So wipe those tears and stop being a sissy. Where was the tough Kreiss who used to laugh at all the tough training I put you through? Don't let this bring you down. You can fail several times. But you can never fail forever. So keep trying. That's what you do best. Be yourself! Rebellious or not, just be who you are. Pretending to be someone you're not won't let you go far."

There was a reason why Kreiss had great respect for Danny. He felt...similar to his deceased father in several ways. The lecture that would soon be replaced by encouraging words, no harsh words of anger, only lectures that were soothingly said to nurture. Kreiss ran a hand over his wet face and wiped it down the best he could, preparing to make himself presentable. Hopefully the redness wouldn't be visible around his eyes. Danny opened the door and walked in.

"Thank you for allowing me to speak with Lt. Colonel Danny despite your busy schedules. " he saluted and yelled out with his returning enthusiasm and energy. "Lt. Colonel John, sir. You are obliged to removed me from my post or totally removed me from OADF if you wish..." Danny looked a little shocked at this. "But, there is no punishment needed for Blaze or Rodeo's actions. Although they disobeyed orders, that was because I had no experience to pull them together and make them go through it. They have their own ideas and possibly better tactics than I myself do. And it would be a waste if a prodigy such as Blaze were to be removed. Did you know sir, that the one named Blaze scored the highest simulation score? I'll take my leave now, sir. There is not much for me left to do here." Danny nodded approvingly despite the apparent disapprovals from the other officers when Kreiss excused himself. One could leave only when a higher up dismissed him/her, but Kreiss once again crashed that rule into oblivion.

"Like father, like son. Man, Rafe...you have a son that's going to be better than you and me. " the officer muttered to himself, smiling while shaking his head. He seemed a little proud...

"Rapier!" Elincia called out as the bogey appeared on radar.

Had Phantom One not suddenly pulled to her aid and taken out the bogey, Elincia knew that she would not have made it in time to save her. For all the lecturing about not needing Phantom One's protection, it was that very thing which just saved Phantom Three from being shot down by the bandit. Once again, Elincia's confidence in her own words had been shaken. It seemed a constant curse, that whenever she tried to speak, her words came back and bit her, taking a piece of her confidence and drive with them.

"Phantom Two to Phantom Three, are you alright?" She asked as the bandit was shot down.

As she asked that question, she saw Phantom One disengage after destroying the bandit and leave the airspace. She listened to his comments and was further damaged emotionally for what she had said and done to him. She knew he was tough and that he was probably unfazed by her comments, but never the less she was both troubled and pained by the things she had said and done.

"Phantom One..." She began, but then she slowly reached for the switch and flipped her comm off.

She didn't have a right to speak to him right now, so she didn't try. Instead, she thought to do the best thing she could to try and make up for what she had done. She took his words to heart and forced herself to gather her resolve and finish this drill with the same intensity she would use had this been a real fight.

She flipped her comm into Phantom Mode so the Tower couldn't hear her.

"Phantom Two to Phantom's Three and Four, continue engaging the enemy. Not that I'm the flight lead, but I want to say as respectfully as I can that it's time to pull out all the stops. I know I might sound a tad hypocritical at this point, after what I said to Phantom One, but don't mind the limitations the Tower put on us at the start of this drill. The combat ceiling is henceforth revoked, the speed limitations are null and void, and you are free to engage the enemy by any means necessary. If the tower wants to see what we can do, they're going to have to make due with what we've got without limitations." She said with renewed confidence.

"One last thing... When I begin my dive, make sure you're nowhere near me. I have a surprise in store for the Tower and their little modifications to the enemy and their tactics which I doubt they're going to like." She said before turning her comm to one way so she couldn't be heard but she could hear everyone else.

She pulled up and began flying up to an altitude of over twelve thousand feet, grazing the combat ceiling on the drill on her way as she then shut off her engines and allowed her plane to free fall back towards the sea. As she came upon nine thousand feet she reengaged her engines and accelerated quickly with a hard pull up on the stick, leveling herself out just above the water's surface at an altitude of fifty feet at tremendous speed as a sonic boom suddenly erupted from her plane. She locked onto another ship ahead of her and let fly with a single missile at its control room near the top. The missile detached itself from the plane, but she was already passed the boat before the missile hit its target, both her missile and the rush of her plane flying by at super sonic speeds toppling the vessel as she continued her assault.

The enemy ships could not lower their guns to fire at anything below seventy five feet, and it was a weakness she was now deliberately exploiting to keep her plane safe from harm as she continue to do light damage as she finally emptied her gun ammo.

She banked hard in a circle after gaining some distance, her plan now driving near one thousand miles per hour, and once again felt the uncomfortable feeling that her plane was being shaken apart by her maneuvers, but she no longer cared. She had one minute left on the clock to do as much damage as possible, imagining to herself that this fleet was actually approaching their naval base and posing a huge threat to friendly ground forces. This was no longer a simulation, this was real war and she was indeed pulling out all the stops. Her plane twisted and turned into and through the enemy's formations, staying no more than fifty feet above the water's surface as she had done so many times in the simulators.

If there was one thing that Elincia was good at, it was repeating her actions from the simulator. Though it was slightly more difficult in the real thing, she knew that she was ready for such maneuvers and she decided that if she crashed the plane, it was just another bill to be paid off later. For now, she wanted to finish this drill strong and let both Phantom's Three and Four show the tower what they could do as well without restriction. While none of them were Ace material yet, they could all push their planes to the brink safely. That much, she knew for certain.

The top brass wasn't really concerned with how trainees were holding up, they were concerned about seeing what they're pilots could do before sending them into combat. If that's what they wanted, then that's what they were going to get, limitations be damned just as Phantom One wanted. Elincia was going to show them why she held the top score in the simulator and prove that even though this was the real deal, she could still push her plane to the same extent she had in those simulated flights. She knew her plane inside and out, and she knew what it could and could not handle.

For the next minute she continued to push her plane for all its worth, doing super sonic flyby's of all ships in her path as she quickly downed two more ships before time ran out and the images of the enemies disappeared from her HUD and visor.

She slowed the plane down to three hundred miles per hour while ascending to eight hundred feet and removed her helmet, shaking her long hair out behind her and letting out a sigh.

"Phantom Two to Phantom's Three and Four, no targets remaining on radar... Let's go home." She said quietly.

"Phantom Flight, this is Rodeo. I am winchester," Killian said, scanning over the display and its not-so-polite reminder that he wouldn't be firing any more AIM-9 Sidewinders or LASMs today. "All tapped out and my bird's starting to get more than just a little thirsty, too."

The return flight home was eerily silent compared the excited chatter that'd been squawking over his radio from before take-off all the way through both phases of their training assignment. The volume knob on the world seemed to turn down just a little once their squadron leader bugged out of the mission, allowing the others not only to concentrate but also plan and fly like a team. A shaky, inexperience team that handle their planes about as well as a still-wet colt handled a brand new set of wobbly legs, but at team all the same.

For Lt. Jake "Rodeo" Killian, it had turned into a decent trip. Four air-to-air kills and twelve surface bogeys confirmed by his unofficial county. The brass would have the official stats, along no doubt with some choice words for all of them about just how expensive every plane, missile, and drop of fuel wasted on their rookie antics was. It would be the first time that Killian had beend dressed down by a superior office and it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. To the pilot's credit, he was rarely shaken by the encounters, taking it with a solid jaw and and a straight-shooting attitude. No excuses, just results.

Rodeo's F/A-18 Hornet was the last of the birds to make it back to Crescent Island, the fighter/attacker's engines whining as he came to a stop in the hangar. The sound reminded him of a whining child being called in for dinner from the middle of a heated game in the backyard, itching for just a few more minutes. The Hornet -- and its pilot -- belong in the sky. Neither of them were happy about being home.

By the time that all the checklists and post-flight routines were finshed, Killian hung his flight helmet and unbuckled and unzipped the front of the flight suit to reveal the plain white t-shirt beneath, leaving the front undone is as comfortable a manner he could afford without being in inappropriate dress for the pilot's ready room and what was sure to be an unpleasant debriefing.

Entering the room, he locked eyes on Elincia while leaning against the doorway. It was strange, to see the young woman rather than the plane or the reflective helmet in the cockpit. Sometimes it was easier to think of his squadronmates as blips on the radar rather than real, living, breathing people. Crossing arms over his chest, the lieutenant played an easy smirk onto his face.

"If I promise not to slug him when he gets into the room, you've got to promise to go shoot a round of pool with me tonight. If they ever let us see the light of day again, that is." Jake's direct but approachable manner outside of the cockpit made it easy for him to make friends, most of the time. Then again, fighter pilots were a fickle bunch.

Elincia looked up as Jake entered the room and tried to smile but it was no use.

Despite how well the pilots did in the end, the fact of the matter was that they had all wasted time, fuel, ammunition and had failed as a team in the eyes of the instructors who watched them perform. She was not looking forward to what the brass had to say, but she would keep her mouth shut and accept what they told her.

"If I promise not to slug him when he gets into the room, you've got to promise to go shoot a round of pool with me tonight. If they ever let us see the light of day again, that is." Jake said with a smirk.

Elincia chuckled lightly at the comment, and closed her eyes as she too found a smirk to put on her face.

"I can't make any promises about anything Lieutenant..." She said quietly, eyes still closed as she tried to keep the small smile on her lips.

She didn't think that anyone in the squad would even recognize the timid young woman before them as Phantom Two, callsign Blaze, named after the Razgriz Captain from the war two years ago. Having such a callsign put a lot of peer pressure on her to perform on the same level as the original, which was something she could not do. Every time she failed to impress, there was always at least one person there to tell her that she didn't deserve the callsign just because of her simulation scores.

Today, she was almost certain that at least one of the brass would do the same, and that she'd hear the words "You don't deserve that callsign young lady" from someone.

If she didn't she'd count her blessings and walk away from the meeting with pride.

If not... Well, she was prepared more for that than for walking away with her pride in tact.

Jake called the ball on his own seat, a few over from Elincia and making sure to give Hannah all the space that she needed. He hadn't been around the pilots of Phantom Squadron for long, but he'd already sized up the pilot known as "Rapier" as one that created her own bubble even outside the cockpit. If she'd spoken more than a dozen words around Jake other than mission-related comm traffic while flying, he'd be shocked. Tough shell to crack, he decided. Streching his legs as much as possible before him and enjoying the open air and legroom that wasn't afforded even in the most comfortable of cockpits the Osean taxpayers could buy.

His own eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the cool and quiet of the room before the mission evaluation began. Beneath eyelids, the alert pilot's eyes danced every so often as his mind played back the memories of the training exercise, tracing through reconstructed strafing runs and hard turns to line up a perfect firing solution -- or at least one that would get the job done. As much as his mind tried to play the angles and focus on the technical improvements to make himself a better aviator, part of Jake Killian couldn't help but play a numbers game and see every action and reaction with dollar signs, thinking about slowly climbing his way out of the debt that he'd sunken into during the time between his decommissioning his return to active duty along with the new squadron.

And Jake would be lying if he said that a sliver of his mind wasn't already playing the angles of a pool game tonight and thinking about the first sip of an ice cold beer from a frosty bottle. And something about a girl, but he only had so much of his mind to go around right now.

The sound of incoming footsteps snapped him out of the active daydreaming and back to the room, turning his head back toward the door.

The shock of being named the new flight lead was written on the 1st Lieutenant's face as the words poured out of the man's mouth. After the shitstorm of words that he'd traded with their former squadron leader during the training exercise, Rodeo was suprised, to say the least, that they would put him in control on the rest of the group. The rest of the briefing blurred by, Jake's mind lost in other thoughts until he found himself standing outside in the Crescent Island sunlight.

"Well ain't that a kick in the head," he mused to himself aloud, paying no attention to if anyone else was around to overhear the conversation with himself. The day had turned into a very, very interested one and it wasn't half over.

He needed a beer and he needed a good game of pool tonight. After all, all the real work was going to start in the morning and Killian wasn't about to blow his second chance.