Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo, after seeing Wolf, sought out Aurelié and asked bluntly, "So, we have a few hours to kill; want to go around town having a good time? Just the two of us, of course..."

He then gave a slight smile and added, "By the way, thanks for letting me win in that simulated fight."

Aurélie had just been to the galley to fill her thermos with coffee - there was an Italian commis in the kitchen brigade, who had a good hand with a Bialetti and a soft spot for a winsome smile. It pained both of them to abuse fine espresso by tipping it into a thermos, but "c'est la vie in the military".

Aurélie's charm was just another tool in her toolbox, of course, but the good thing about people from civilised cultures was that they understood the game - flirting was part of it, the exchange of gifts material and immaterial, and nothing too serious to come of it. One was here for a little space of time, and then one was not; best to live well while you could. And just as life was too short to tolerate bad wine or bad food, it was also too short to waste on bad relationships. You made each other happy for a while, and then you left while you still desired more - a little unsatisfied, but that gave spice to the waiting, rather than being so replete that you could not face the next good thing that came along.

So when Mykhailo came bouncing up to her, all but wagging his tail, and propositioned her with an approach so blunt he could have used it as a rolling pin, her moue was entirely genuine. "C'est à moi que to parles? Bonjour, s'il vous plaît? Pardon, but our squadron has, how you say, fucked up on this mission, so my idée of a good time for tonight is to take this - " she held up the thermos, " - and put in a few centiliters of cognac, and then to write up my after action reports so that we do not repeat this utter shitshow, n'est-ce pas?"

And with that she snapped around on her heel with the precision and firmness of an airbrake deploying. As she strode away, she left him with a final thought. "And do not mistake mentoring for affection."

Kat's Hospital Room
Matter Dei Hospital, Msida
A Few Hours Ago

"Well consider your mission accomplished. From what I hear, that thing's a wreck destined for the junk heap."

"Speaking of scars, I've got an insensitive question. Do you ever feel your eye? Rather, do you feel it hurt even though it's gone?"

Kat gestured for Fuka to take a seat on one of the chairs beside the bed, smiling at the other woman as she did so. As she mentioned her missing eye and the sensation of it, her fingers moved up to the patch that covered it, almost reflexively.
"Sometimes," she answered without much hesitation; there wasn't any real reason to hide her answer. "Sometimes I'll even wake up in the morning, and have forgot in the first few moments, wondering why I can't see properly. Most of the time, I don't even notice. I've been told over and over I compensate expertly for it, that my reactions are all in the top marks and all that. On the professional level, I couldn't be more relieved about those results. But on a personal level, it's... not the same". She gave a slight nod of her chin towards Fuka's hi-tech prosthesis. "And unfortunately, no one makes replacement eyes that have any function to them - yet, anyway".

“Sorry to interrupt. I thought I would come down and check up on you, see how you’re holding up. Save you from the box of boredom.” She motioned at the T.V.

Kat paused as Freyja arrived, surprising her to see a second visitor even more than Fuka's arrival already head.
"Two visitors? And both lovely ladies as well; the skipper's going to be very jealous. Well, more the merrier I suppose. It's nice to actually get to talk to my wingmates. We haven't really had a chance yet. And thank you," she said with a smile toward Valkyrie and a nod at the T.V. up on it's wall mount. "I was about ready to settle on something I wasn't sure was either a soap opera or a comedy before you two showed up".
She gestured to Peacenik beside her. "We were just discussing our missing body parts... Unless you've got something hidden, I guess you're not part of the club. Although, I don't think either of us would recommend it". A grin crept onto her face and she sniggered at the thought that came into her head, hating the words before she said them, but completely unable to resist the terrible joke.
"...Membership costs an arm and a leg".



Malta International Airport
Maintenance Headquarters Building
Back in the Present

At the front of the building, Ximena's suppressive fire had the intended effect; fire aimed out of the front windows slackened off, the hostiles inside unwilling to put their heads out against the firepower of the light machine-gun, backed up with Calico's snap-shooting further discouraging anyone trying to be brave.
Yuna backing him up, Scott pressed on into the building, cutting down one of the hostiles who blundered out of a side door into the main corridor. He cut right, entering the first large room, and popping another couple of short bursts off before one of the assailants could open fire with their mini-uzi against him. Another lunged forward, pistol in hand, but Scott's training kicked in, and in flurry of swift movements, the SMG still in hand and utilized in the close-quarter dance of blocks, jabs and strikes, he had them disarmed and on the ground; but the room to the left of the main corridor still held enemy personnel, lurking in wait.

To the rear of the building, Fuka's team kept the hostiles contained, or tagged them as they attempted to escape or move out. Accurate, quick fire from Fuka's M110 had tagged two, and Valkyrie's suppressive fire with her AK5c pinned down others shooting from the windows, giving Mykhailo a chance to pick his targets freely.
The moment almost seemed to turn as a pair of shooters opened up from the rooftop, pouring more fire onto them from a high angle.

Aurelie's object of interest had revealed itself, however; much of the equipment from the airport's more peace-time role was also parked or stored nearby, and a portable lighting tower was placed nearby. Not turned on currently, the light themselves had been left in the upright position, and it would take only a few switches flipped and angling of the lights to potentially make use of the brilliant lighting in the aid of the attackers.

@Smike, @Finetales, @Damo021, @Kensai, @Letter Bee, @Theyra

Yuna smiled when Ximena rolled up and started raining lead with her LMG. While Yuna still had some targets to shoot at, the overwhelming suppressive fire from the big gun certainly made an impression on their adversaries, and it didn't take long for Yuna's targets to dry up as Scott pushed in. Not one to shy away from a tactical opportunity to have even more fun, the petite Singaporean shifted her focus. Partially to announce her intentions and partially to give her shell-shocked right ear a moment of reprieve, Yuna ducked back behind the container, reloaded her MP5, and flicked the fire selector to full auto. She turned to face Ximena, yelling over the gunfire pretty much directly in Jefe's ear in order to be heard: "Seems like you got this on lock! I'll leave ya to it!"

It didn't take long for Yuna to find a break in the dwindling enemy fire coming out of the windows, and she took the opportunity to sprint to the front entrance. She slowed up just behind Scott, who had just cleared the main corridor. Heartbreak cut right and seemed to be having no trouble, so Calico cut left to cover his six. She noted that unlike Scott's new friends, nobody was coming out to greet her. She allowed herself a split second to feign a pouty face before focusing up. Maybe there was nobody in there...but maybe they were just waiting. Time to have some fun, she thought, and crept slowly to the door with her left eye trained down her MP5's iron sights. If there were people in there, the slackers hadn't even opened the door, which Yuna mentally scoffed at. How are you going to toss grenades out of a closed door?? No matter; they would learn the error of their ways.

Yuna reached the door and heard muffled voices behind it. She smiled and forcefully kicked the door in, squeezing the trigger of her MP5 at the same moment. The door gave way with little effort, which allowed Yuna to see who was inside waiting for her immediately. Not that she was waiting for visual contact; the rounds had started flying out of the MP5's barrel before the door had even finished swinging out of the way. Yuna sprayed in a quick arc across the visible room before quickly ducking out of the door frame and back behind a wall. She had caught them by surprise - even though they had been lying in wait, the sudden door kick startled them and they reacted too slowly. She knew she had tagged at least two of them, but she hadn't reached the third one before ducking out of the way before he could get a shot off. She had no time to wait around now; she knew the remaining assailant would give chase and she needed to reload.

Yuna sprinted further down the corridor and rounded a corner, letting her MP5 fall and be held at her chest by its sling while drawing her sidearm. When she peeked out of the corner, the remaining assailant was already out of the room and running at her. "Shit!" Her training and fighter pilot reaction time came in clutch as she reflexively rattled off three quick shots with her P226. The first got the assailant in the leg just as he pulled the trigger, causing him to buckle and his rounds to fly everywhere. The second and third shots got him center mass, and down he went - but not before Yuna was almost hit by the stray bullets as she frantically ducked back behind the wall. Yuna breathed a sigh of relief, muttering "Jesus..." Thankfully, Yuna didn't hear anyone else running at her, so she quickly reloaded both of her weapons and drew her MP5 once more, pushing back up to the room. This time she saddled up to the door frame and then whirled around with her MP5 pointed into the room in an instant. She had no opposition this time; the two men she had tagged were down and out and there were no further targets inside. Yuna cased the room completely, ensuring no further danger, and yelled out "CLEAR!" in Scott's direction.

With imminent danger to her and Scott eliminated, Yuna took up a defensive position in the room behind a large desk the assailants had conveniently already pushed on its side to use as cover. Either more targets would come to Yuna like moths to a flame, or her C/O would have new orders for her. In the meantime, she had found an H&K G36 assault rifle lying next to one of the bodies and decided that she wanted to take it for herself. This engagement had taught her that while her MP5 was perfect for CQC, this squadron apparently saw enough ground action that it would benefit her to improve her mid-range capability, just in case. She was all too happy to accomplish that goal with a gun she liked, taken from an enemy she killed, with no money spent. It was even on a sling, so she slung it on her back, leaving room for her MP5 slung the opposite way in front. More weight? Yes. Worth it? Even more yes.

@Rhona W @Smike

Fuka Nakano
Matter Dei Hospital, Msida

Perhaps it wasn't her place to ask such a question, or maybe she should have approached it with more tact, but Fuka felt entitled to an answer. She was one of the few people who could understand Kat, after all. How many people had list an integral part of themselves like they had, and of that select group how many had lost it in battle? They were maimed not by a car crash or a freak accident but through violence, wounded warriors who kept fighting because it was their purpose.

"I know just how you feel." she said, taking the offered seat. "I'm left-handed, and I still try to brush my teeth before attaching my arm. I suppose I should be grateful that I'm able to fly. They told me that everyone adjusts differently, that I might not function as well as I would like. I guess we're just better than most."

Fuka glanced towards Freyja as she entered, giving her a nod.

"From what I hear the people on those boats owe you big time." she said. "Good going."

Who would have thought that the big bad Valkryie, the bad bitch who sent N/UN sailors to watery graves, would find herself on humanitarian missions? Probably not even Freyja herself. Fuka wondered whether her change in allegiance had been due to morals or simple expediency, but that question went unasked.

"Hey, if you haven't paid dues already we can take care of it here. Ask the doctors for a bonesaw and in five minutes we can slice off a body part of your choosing."

Ximena Huang
Tarxien, Malta

"You're probably right." Ximena chuckled. "I guess we'll find out."
+++
Ximena had always loved going fast. Ever since she was a girl she had craved speed, whether it be horses on her family's ranch or the Ural motorcycle her father had bought secondhand. Unsurprisingly, as she got older she got more advanced, slaloming sports cars, speedboats, and eventually, planes. Hurtling forward at hundreds or thousands of miles an hour gave her a high unmatched by anything on Earth; the fine control she had to exert contrasted against the terrifying knowledge that one wrong move would turn her into a red stain. Her hands wanted to shake but she couldn't let them, the blood pounding in her ears deafened the roar of the engines, her survival instinct begged her to slow down but she always told it to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride.

The scooter she was toodling about on wasn't enough to force her into that state of primal excitement, not even close. The little Euro-bike was pushing 150 ccs if that, but what she expected? The rental place dealt with college kids on vacation, not adrenaline junkies fiending for their next high. It was good enough to get from points A to B, and pretty cheap to boot. Jefe pulled up alongside her new buddy, eyeing the bar.

"Pretoria, like South Africa? Interesting."

Perhaps some Afrikaners had gotten out when the ANC came to power and wanted to remind themselves of home. Whatever, a bar was a bar.

"Sounds good to me."

Ximena killed the engine and lowered the kickstand, stepping into the bar. It looked like more of a spot for locals than a visitor's joint which was nice, the gathered crowd looking more like staff from the various tourist traps than guests. It was clean without being sanitized, the floor recently swept but still stained from years of things being dropped on it. She already knew what the food would taste like, if the place bothered serving any: entirely satisfactory and still tasting of the freezer, not overpriced, trendy crap designed for social media.

It was the sort of joint Ximena could feel comfortable drinking- or at least as comfortable as she ever did. You didn't walk around with a knife in your boot and a hand cannon hidden in a specially made pocket because you were at peace with the universe.

"Hey there." she addressed the woman behind the bar breezily. "Can we get something local?"

Two bottles of Cisk lager were presented, Jefe taking one as she slid onto a stool.

"So Calico, how long have you been with Shattered?"


Fuka Nakano

She liked being a fighter jock, but Fuka had to admit she missed being shot at on the ground. Rounds flew overhead and ricocheted somewhere behind her as she switched from target to target, knocking them down like she were plinking soda cans. Moving with her crew was almost like being in the Rangers again; Valk covering her in a classic bounding maneuver. She took note of the pair the Swede had pointed out and reacted. One man had an old-school Ruger rifle but no idea how to use it, aiming much low considering his angle. Fuka put one in his chest before switching targets, shooting his pal in the gut.

Whatever breathing room she had bought was quickly spent by the appearance of another pair on the roof, Peacenink having to duck for cover as they opened up. She could see them only by the light of their muzzle flash, indistinct figures disappearing back into the darkness. Looking around to take account of the team's circumstances she spotted Aurelie heading for the light stack.

"Valk, Myk! Cover her! New girl, stick with me!"

Ximena Huang

The sabotuers didn't seem interested in taking their offer, which was a shame indeed. Jefe, always eager to please, opened up again with her machine gun. Her drinking buddy seemed bored now that all the targets were ducking out of the way, Ximena noting how she flicked her MP5 from 'for your eyes only' to 'to whom this may concern'.

"Have fun." she shouted back. "I'll follow behind you guys in a bit!"

She laid down fire as Calico dashed for the door, one genius sticking his arm up to blindfire just as bullets swept his window. It was hard to tell at that distance, but Ximena was pretty sure she had torn his arm off at the wrist.

Whoops.

She snickered cruelly, keeping the carnage coming. She could see a hint of movement as someone crouchwalked from one window to another, the very top of their head bobbing in and out of view. Ximena didn't bother aiming for such a tiny target, instead letting a burst of .300 Blackout chew through the thin wall and whichever mechanic was behind it.

"Come and get some you fucking traitors, I'm right here! I'll do this shit all night!

It was probably karma for her to be fighting 'traitors' since she herself was one, but that was a problem for the future. In the meantime she had good, solid cover in the form of a concrete barrier and a thick lightpost base and about fifty rounds in her current belt. It was a recipe for a fun time, but not exactly what she had signed up for when she defected.

@Rhona W @Finetales @Letter Bee @Damo021

"Hey there." she addressed the woman behind the bar breezily. "Can we get something local?" Two bottles of Cisk lager were presented, Jefe taking one as she slid onto a stool.

Yuna lazily plopped herself down on the barstool next to Ximena as the Sinomexicana ordered for them both. As promised, Yuna presented her card to the bartender before Ximena had a chance to, saying "keep it open" as she did so.

Yuna was pleased to see a Cisk Lager placed in front of her. "Ahh, Malta's finest," she said, spinning the bottle around to inspect it. "I've never had it myself." She took a sip, then a longer sip, and then a loooooonger "sip". "Mmm. Just what the doctor ordered," she said contentedly.

"So Calico, how long have you been with Shattered?"

Yuna turned to face Ximena. "Not long at all. I pretty much signed the contract and then got sent out here. Didn't even have time to unpack." She looked around the bar, before taking another sip of her beer. "Not a bad first deployment though, gotta say."

Looking back at Ximena, Yuna continued. "What about you?"

Ximena Huang
Tarxien, Malta

"Hmm, about two years now I think? But I would have to check for an exact date."

Had it really been that long since her life had turned to ash? Ximena sipped her beer as she ruminated, letting the taste play across her tongue. It was sweeter than she preferred, never having gotten into lagers, but when in Malta do as the Maltese do.

"Admittedly, I've not done much since joining. Patrols mostly, training pilots for different countries, that sort of thing. It'll be nice to see some real action again."

Shattered had been wasting a top pilot on teaching rookies how to joust, probably because they didn't trust her. She couldn't blame them, but nevertheless she was glad they got their heads out of their asses.

"I heard that our new team is already down two planes and one pilot, so hopefully Malta turns out to be more exciting than it looks right now."

@Finetales

Mahkam simply waved his hand to the group and took a spot near the back. While he would have been more welcoming to his new teammates, the fact everyone was requested to bring their weapons with them and the serious tone of the meeting. He knew that pleasantries and a proper introduction would have to wait for later. So, with a calm face, he waited to see what this business was about.

Traitors, that is what this is about. Mahkam had heard about the dead pilots, and that was the reason why he was coming in to replace them. But learning that it was intentional sabotage by their own mechanics was eye-opening. His mind started to think as to why they would do this and if they were perhaps working for another PMC or Corp or something. Someone who wanted to see them fail and die. But it seemed like his new commander, Scott, had a plan. But a plan that he was not expecting. Since security is stretched thin, it looks like the pilots will be the ones who will be dealing with the traitors.

He had to admit, he was unsure about this. Sending them to deal with the problem and not actually security. But Mahkam knew that this could not continue, and this had to be dealt with. Plus, he is no coward despite thinking of his family. Mahkam blankly looked down at his gun, a Russian submachine gun. He knew its rounds would be useful at penetrating body armor, or at least Russian body armor. So, with a deep breath, Mahkam readied himself for a firefight. It would be the first time he actually had to use his gun before, but he was trained on how to use it, even if that training was years old.

Still, Mahkam followed Scott out the door with his gun at the ready. He followed his orders and ended up staying with his group when it became time to split up. He was at the back of the group that was hugging the wall to the maintenance building when gunfire erupted. Uttering a single swear in his native tongue before following Scott.



Mahkam entered into the building after Scott and the rest of his group. Trying to ignore the loud sound of Ximena's suppressive fire. He had yet to shoot his gun since both Scott, Yuna, and Ximena made it so that any targets were already dead or hiding for their lives by the time Mahkam had a chance to shoot. Still, he was ready and willing to end this and protect his new team.

So, after looking around and seeing how things were clear at the moment. Mahkam chose to take cover at a large desk that Yuna was taking cover at. Weapon at the ready if more traitors show up, "This is some first day with the team." He said in a surprised and hushed tone as he peered over the desk, seeing if more people would come to them. "Definitely not what I was expecting," as he waited for either a reply from her, more traitors, or new orders from Scott. It has certainly been an interesting day and time to see how more interesting it will be.

@Rhona W@Finetales

A century of air combat had distilled numerous tricks into the corpus of Air Combat Maneuvering. Some of these were classics from the very first day of man killing man in the air: the Immelmann turn, the split-S... and perhaps the great-grandfather of them all, the dive out of the sun. It was a simple trick, using the glare of the sun to obscure your aircraft from the sight of the enemy, allowing you to close in undetected. In more modern times, it was used in reverse, flying into the sun to fool the primitive seeker heads of early IR-guided missiles. In an era of AESA radar and sensor fusion, though, it had mostly fallen by the wayside.

But Aurélie was a scholar of ACM, among many other things, and the principle still applied. The portable floodlights were compact but powerful, strong enough to illuminate a runway for safe landing - and thus more than powerful enough to dazzle. If the enemy didn't have optics, the glare would make it impossible to see anything within something like a 15 degree arc of the light source; if they had optics, the lights might well burn them out if they were looking in that direction.

Either way, it would give them something to think about.

And shoot at, as the case may be. They could just blast the lights out. But at least that would take some time - time that Cobalt could use to approach and assault.

Time, the essence of combat. Bought, more often than not, in blood. Of which Napoleon himself had said, "You can ask me for anything you like, except time."

Aurélie had little to contribute to the team in an assault, but she could buy them that time. Before anyone else had noticed, she was already at the cart, flipping open the lid to the control panel and angling the lights at the traitors' position.

"Hmm, about two years now I think? But I would have to check for an exact date."

"Admittedly, I've not done much since joining. Patrols mostly, training pilots for different countries, that sort of thing. It'll be nice to see some real action again."

Yuna sighed in imagined contentment. "Real action would be nice. My last PMC was not good about real action...they were good at having us do absolutely everything but!" She scoffed and took another drink. "But I hear this squadron in particular gets into it a fair bit. I have a feeling we'll find out sooner rather than later."

"I heard that our new team is already down two planes and one pilot, so hopefully Malta turns out to be more exciting than it looks right now."

Yuna chuckled. "Hey, that sounds like action to me! Put us on the back foot, make it interesting. Give me something to dance to, you know?" Yuna had to admit though, downtime outside of a sterile military base is something she had been very overdue for as of late. Make it Malta and put her at a bar, with drink in hand and some good company? Yeah, she was in no hurry to get back to work.

Yuna cleared her beer with a final swig, and the bartender caught her eye at that moment. Yuna ordered a second beer and turned to Ximena as the bartender poured it. She tilted her head to look at Ximena's beer specifically, which still had a good amount left. "Girl, you gotta catch up!" she said lightheartedly.

Chevy's clever idea had the desired effect; the sun-bright lamps of the mobile lighting rig were dazzling to the point of blindness for those caught in their beams. The would-be defenders shots were thrown wild, or they stopped firing altogether, blocking their eyes with an arm or hand and their positions illuminated perfectly for Fuka's team to take their shots and put them down for good.

Inside the building, Scott called out a firm and loud 'clear!' to Yuna as nothing else moved in his room. He swapped out the mag in his MP5, moving back to the hallway. No further shots sounded, and no more signs or sounds of movement from the buildings' interior. He clicked on his radio and spoke up to the others.
"Heartbreak to all units. I think we got all the hostiles inside the building. Sweep and clear to check. Peacenik; what's the status outside, over?"

Outside, in the same instant as the last shots were being fired, one last holdout reared up over the roof parapet. A thin, lanky tech with lank, ragged hair and a look of cold indifference in his eyes, he raised an Agram 2000 sub-machinegun and aimed through watering squinting eyes at the first target firing back he saw, squeezing off a burst in the same instant they fired back.
Even as he was punched backward and collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, the rounds slammed into Mykhailo's body, and threw the young pilot to the ground; wounded heavily, but not dead.



The squadron's Panther helicopter had airlifted Mykhailo to the same hospital where Kat still resided. The combat medics with Shattered Steel's own security contingent had stabilised him for that, but more advanced surgery and care was needed than the facilities on hand could provide.
With the gun battle over, and the infiltrators all accounted for, Scott had gathered the rest of the squadron in the base's mess hall along with Colonel Abela from the Maltese forces, Captain Hoffman from the Shattered Steel security forces, and of course Wolf, head of their own maintenance team. Every one of them looked dog-tired, and he felt the same way. The day's events had been wearing for all of them; an active aerial combat sortie with numerous incidents, and then a live gun battle on the ground against hostile elements who'd worked their way inside. And they hadn't even had time to mourn their loss yet. It was past midnight, and he could feel his fatigue taking over as the adrenaline of combat slipped away. His MP5 still lay on the table next to where he sat, having come straight from the maintenance building and rushed to and fro other places before winding up here in desperate need of something to wet his throat and fill his belly, which is why he drank heavy gulps from a bottle of coke inbetween bites from a ham and cheese sandwich that disappeared quickly.

"All right. First off; Brightspark is in stable condition. He's in surgery now, but everything looks like he'll pull through. Medic said that the rounds missed his vital organs, though nicked a few major blood vessels and did some nasty damage. He'll be off the roster for a while while he heals up.
"Secondly. What we've managed to put together". He sighed out before taking another long sip of his drink and pausing as he organised his thoughts.
"There are two surviving hostiles; they have been transferred to a secure wing of the hospital for their wounds to be treated. When they are well enough, they will be interrogated. Colonel Abela and Captain Hoffman's people are examining the personal effects of the... I don't know; renegades, now. They have, however; already found several cell phones - more than their personal ones, I mean. Their personal bags, as well as other items such as clothing, books, and other effects have been found to have secret compartments or additional interior pockets, concealing sums of local currency, fake ID's and short-range transmitters".
He pursed his lips, a tight, line forming on his face.
"Just before I called you all here, Wolf and a handful of our maintenance people along with some of Abela's people found and removed devices from the bases' radar, POL stores and electrical substations".
Hoffman chimed in to continue, his gruff English accent a stark difference to Scott's voice.
"It remains to be confirmed; but it seems as though these infiltrators were attempting to cripple our forces and Luqa itself. The devastation and chaos caused by their sabotage would have been the perfect cover for the forces that Captain Bouchard and Leftenant Nakano observed and disabled that seemed to be intended for an amphibious assault. Our ground forces here would not be able to hold back an organised attack at all, we have no heavy equipment and very few heavy weapons".
"Although, why they wish to capture or at least invade Malta at all is a mystery to us still," Abela continued. "We are in the process of rebuilding ourselves, and have little in the way of natural resources. I am at a loss as to why we have become a target for these people".
"Whatever the reason," Scott said, taking over once more. "We've put an end to the internal problem, and got a cap on it. Circus and Stingray are going back to The Forge on the first transport arriving tomorrow. Kitten will be rejoining us tomorrow as well. Everyone, get some sleep. Tomorrow will bring us new things, and I've no doubt we're not done with this yet. Dismissed".



Luqa International Airport
Malta

The Next Morning
10:00 hours

Scott sipped a coffee as he stood in what had turned into the operations room for the squadrons' deployment to Luqa. They'd been given use of the Maltese Defence Forces' base and its' own control room, and that was where Scott now stood, clad in the pants of his working uniform and a grey T-shirt, one hand on his hip as he studied the maps projected on the screens built into the table. He'd received orders for their next sortie, and it was in the planning stages. He'd welcome input from the others, and was expecting them all to find their way here in due time - though, he had in particular sent word to Chevy to meet him there and aid in the mission planning. After all, he had given her the spot of 2IC, and intended to make full use of her talents and experience. The information she and Fuka had recorded on their sortie the previous day formed part of the information now presented, along with additional satellite images showing the Libyan coastline and several important bases and areas there.
He set the mug down, and leant on the edge of the table, running a hand through his hair as he studied the information and started to put strategies and plans together, building up their next moves.

Fuka Nakano

The snap-fizzle of the lights turning on was like the chorus of trumpets at Doomsday, signalling the arrival of heavenly light to blind the sinners. The gunmen holed up in the building had adjusted to fighting in the dark, acclimated themselves to the sporadic burst of muzzle flash against the night sky. A constant burning beam was enough to throw them off their game, Fuka moving to take advantage of their temporary weakness. One man with an AK variant had thrown up his arms to shield his face, leaving her the opportunity to tuck a bullet into his chest.

Switch targets came naturally, the crosshairs drifting to the next victim in line. She saw a thin man with a submachine gun go down in a burst of lead, just as Myk was cut down off to her side.

"Shit!"

The fight was over now, Fuka able to crouch by the kid's side and begin emergency aid. Her headset crackled to life and she spared a blood-soaked finger to tap it.

"All hostiles outside dead or wounded, but we're down a man. Spark took fire; he's down."

------

Ximena Huang

Well, tonight had been something! It had been a long time since she had been engaged in an out-and-out gun battle, and she had assumed she had left that life behind in Mexico. Evidently not.

Ximena's body was still in fight or flight, running on automatic like a wind-up toy that had been let loose. Adrenaline was still coursing through her, tempered by the cognac and coke she had managed to sneak in before the briefing. Her hands were twitching, the smell of gunpowder clung to her like a damp blanket, and she could have sworn that the barrel of her SAW was still warm propped up against her lap. Was there going to be another attack? Did she have enough ammo? Was some terrorist about to throw the door open and toss in a pipe bomb? Who knew? Maybe the security forces were in on it and Cobalt was about be rounded up and shot by local cops.

The thought made her blanche, her stomach twisting itself in knots even as she willfully, gleefully, ran through all the worst case scenarios.

She lived for this shit. On land or in the air, the mixed fear and excitement of combat followed by the simple, violent joy of victory fueled her. This outfit, battered and exhausted and entirely compromised as it was, was where she belonged.

The Next Morning

She had slept maybe 3 hours, the energy of the battle exhausted but replaced by pure caffeine. She hated energy drinks but found them tolerable when washed down with strong coffee. A crash would hit eventually, but she could stave it off with more as required.

She came strolling into the operations room as casual as could be, her eyes just visible through the designer shades she had been allowed to wear. They were bright pink that day and narrowed into an inquisitive glare to match the catlike grin she wore habitually.

"Goooood morning, bossman." she near-purred, practically drawling the words in her Los Angeles accent. "I didn't get a chance to say hi yesterday, figured I would see how you're holding up."

@Rhona W

Yuna and Ximena continued their bar talk, discussing Shattered Steel, Malta, previous employers, their jets, other members of the squadron they had met thus far, and various other things. A couple hours and a few more drinks later, the two pilots paid the bill and left the bar in high spirits. They were delighted to find that their scooters were still there waiting for them, and after another short scooter juant they found themselves back at the base. They went their separate ways to get situated and relax a bit, and were soon enough disrupted by the call to the emergency meeting.

---

The silence after Scott's return "clear" call to Yuna was a relief to Yuna's ears. After the last hostiles had been taken care of and the area confirmed clear, Yuna left with the group and briefly stopped at the women's barracks to deposit her weapons, including her new addition. She smiled as she racked the stolen G36, and guessed that it wouldn't be too long before she had to use it. She'd have to remember to note it in her report, so that the appropriate magazines and ammunition could be assigned to her before she needed it.

Once she was done, she headed to the mess hall, at the behest of both the CO and her stomach. She had only had a liquid dinner at the bar, and needed something to keep her going if obligations were going to continue. She hoped this meeting would be the last of their duties, so she could finally get some shuttle. It had been a long day.

Strolling into the mess hall, she noted that she was the first there after the CO. Not knowing the way Shattered Steel dealt with rank, she felt it best to err just a bit on the "proper" side to stay safe. She was in no mood to get chewed out. So, after swiping she walked up to Scott, extended her hand in greeting, and said "Colonel Valentine, it's a pleasure to finally actually meet you. That was certainly one hell of an introduction to Cobalt Haze."

---

The next morning, Yuna was up, refreshed, and ready to (hopefully?) be a pilot again. Scott's debrief the previous night had been playing through her head on repeat. It seemed Shattered Steel had real enemies; not just unorganized amateurs, but a competent force making calculated moves against them. And the squadron had certainly not come out unscathed; Yuna was glad to hear that the pilot who was shot was still alive and in medical care.

It seemed Yuna's wish had finally been answered: a real squadron, with real skill and real action. She did wonder if she had bit off a bit more than she could chew, at least in terms of the action on the ground. But she didn't much care, because so far she had been having a blast. Yuna was the type to never be happier than when getting stuck in, and last night had taught her that this was just as true on the ground as it was in the air. Speaking of being in the air though...she was itching to get back in the cockpit.

As such, she was happy to mosey her way to the operations room, but not before she stopped to grab breakfast. When she was finally done filling up with bagels and grabbing a hot cup of coffee to go, she reached the operations room in short order, finding Scott and Ximena there. Yuna looked positively cozy with her cup of coffee in hand, and had a demeanor to match. "Morning, besties," she said casually, before sitting down cross-legged at the table.

@Rhona W @Smike

"Goooood morning, bossman." she near-purred, practically drawling the words in her Los Angeles accent. "I didn't get a chance to say hi yesterday, figured I would see how you're holding up."

Scott had his mug up to his face as Ximena walked in, and he lowered it with a smile, swallowing as he nodded to her.
"Jefe, good morning. Yeah; wasn't exactly the most... conventional introduction to the squadron, but you did a hell of a job with that covering fire. Thanks for that, and well done for rolling with the madness. I'd say it's not normally like that, but, well; this is our first mission as a squadron. So..."
He shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "I hope it won't all be that way, let's just say that. For a start, I definitely don't want to have to deal with anymore spies or turncoats in our midst. It's already enough work planning and flying missions as it is".
He gestured to the maps, laptops and tablets on the planning table before him. "Hence my current task".
He nodded at her and smiled again. "So, that aside; glad to have you with us. Another experienced pilot is always good, and you've had quite the journey to get here too. I'm sure you've got lots of interesting stories to share, with all you've done and seen".

Before he could say much more, Yuna breezed in, similarly morning-minded as both him and Ximena. He laughed at her greeting and nodded in return.
"Morning, Calico. Good to see you in a less... hectic setting and get a chance to be introduced" he said with a wry smile, as he took another sip of his coffee.

Freyja Svensdotter
Matter Dei Hospital, Msida

Freyja settled further into the room when Kat greeted her, it appeared she joined mid conversation over missing body parts, she had noticed such things in the brief time she had around them, but she would not be one to ask on such personal matters. She couldn’t help but smirk about joining the club though. “I have hidden a few things yes, but missing body parts no, guess your club is still exclusive to the two of you." She did snort at Kat’s terrible pun though. “Do you take cheques?”

Looking over at Fuka, she nodded again. “Thank you, there is still plenty more to do though” She paused moment, after things still went to shit. “My only hope is they make full use of those supplies, we all good do with a bit good news.”

Freyja just looked surprised at Fuka for a moment to process what she just said. But a smile crept onto her features. “Dam Major, feels like you really want me in your exclusive club. I’ll tell you what, I’ll take it under advisement.” She joked.



The firefight continued, as quick Freyja pointed out new targets to Fuka and the fellow pilot put them down with efficiency, the respite was short as more enemies joined the fray. ‘Just how many are there’ she thought to herself, did someone like pay off most the base or something? Soon team was forced to take cover. “Got it” The swede would shout as she was ordered to provide covering fire, and that she will, when the figures reappeared she fired away at them to keep them from target her allies.

Chevy in a moment of brilliance turned the fight into their favour, sure the enemy had the high ground but they were now blinded by the light. And gave them the advantage they needed, Valk move to another cover to get a better aim only to see Fuka down one guy instantly, the last guy she shot at seemed to go down in a hail of bullets, she took a moment to ensure the area was clear before realising Myk was down, unstrapping her weapon from herself Valk ran over to give what assistance she could.



As ordered and probably needed, Freyja was sat on an edge of a table in silence, it had been a long and tiring day, and with the adrenaline wearing off, she was able to find time to take stock properly of the day’s events, there was a lot to process and she listened to what was being said while she was drinking from a bottle of water that was given to her by a member of the base’s staff. Her weapon resting beside her on the said table. She kept calm even if looking fatigued, but inside she was fuming, she lost a pilot under her command. Multiple planes sabotaged, her CO, Kat and Myk hospitalised, despite the former already being released and all these insiders. The enemy was organised and dangerous. She kept on listening in silence, waiting for the opportunity to shower and hopefully sleep.

Amelia Schön

The fighting inside was sure intense, Amelia had managed to get over to the guy she shot in the leg and kick the gun away from him before he could grab and then knocked him out with the butt of her gun. Satisfied she continued on in a sweep and clear style, using whatever cover she could while going through corridors and rooms a like. Her fun demeanour was gone for now, especially in much closer quarters where one mistake could snuff her life out in a moment’s notice.

During her travels the German picked up a pistol, mainly because the daft cow forgets to bring her own side arm and tucked it in her clothing. Resistance was slowly fading away, maybe a few hold up stragglers, she was taking a moment to reload her MP7A1 when she was suddenly rushed by an enemy before she could finish the reload and having her clip scoot across the floor, luckily she reacted in time to side step the assailant and quickly pull out the pistol she acquired and placed two to the chest of the individual.

Before she could fully get her bearings another guy came at her, she tried raising the pistol to shoot but was not quick enough, using the element of surprise from his ally distracting her. Soon enough there was a struggle for the gun, she thought hard but the guy was over powered, even slammed her into a wall before they both fell to the floor, managing to get a top of her, the man tried to strangle her while she scrambled for the pistol. Moments later in a struggle a shot ran out from the pistol, blood splattered on the side of her face and neck, his body going limp on her, there was a moment of shock before she realised she had not been shoot herself. A sigh of relief before looking at her precarious position. “Well, this is embarrassing” with a bit of effort, she managed to push the body of herself and get back up. Collecting herself and finishing of the reload of her weapon. “CLEAR” she shouted. She hoped to god no one saw that.



Once back at the mess hall, Amelia was being tended to by one of the local medics while listening to the debrief. She had a bottle of water also, but would’ve prefer something far stronger right now. She did get a bit frustrated with the medic fussing over her, it probably didn’t help she was partially covered in blood. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood” She said quietly as to not interrupt the debrief. She looked like a character out of a resident evil game with the blood stain and the way she was dressed.

After a little bit of clean up they moved on, satisfied that no blood had got into her mouth. Normally she would have something quirky to say to brighten the mood, but this time she didn’t especially after the team having a man down from the fight. There was a time and place for that, once the meeting concluded she would secure her weapons and clean herself up before getting some shut eye.

@Rhona W @Smike

Ximena Huang

"What can I say? It seems like anytime I go somewhere related to Shattered Steel, it's because someone is trying to kill me."

First her homeland, and now these, what, Maltese separatists? Some pan-Mediterranean nationalist movement? Whoever they were, they were connected sons-of-bitches with money and resources beyond what a bunch of hoodlum terrorists should have been able to scrounge up.

"But I'm not one to turn down a compliment. Hopefully all that suppressing fire made your job inside a little easier, and I look forward to showing how I'm even better in the air!"

Yuna strolled in soon after, Ximena giving her drinking buddy a nod and a lazy salute.

"Hey hey, kitty-cat. Glad to see you made it out in one piece. And you came by just in time! I was going to interrogate Heartbreak here, and I'm not allowed to question suspects without a witness."

She leveled a finger at Scott accusingly, her Cheshire grin only growing wider.

"I heard the most vile rumor while digging through files, and I'm hoping you can set the record straight. Is it true that you scored a kill on an F-22, God's favorite killing machine, with a big, slow, dumb Intruder?

"What can I say? It seems like anytime I go somewhere related to Shattered Steel, it's because someone is trying to kill me."

Scott grinned at that shaking his head. "I know, right? It's almost like we keep ending up in war zones or something. I'll have to see if I can find a more relaxing location for our next trip"

"But I'm not one to turn down a compliment. Hopefully all that suppressing fire made your job inside a little easier, and I look forward to showing how I'm even better in the air!"

"And it's a well-earned compliment. It definitely did help; I don't think those guys expected quite the volume of firepower, and just as well for us. And I've no doubt you'll be just as great in the air, too". He nodded to the maps, charts and other paraphernalia arrayed on the table before them. "And that you'll have a chance to show it soon, too".

Scott availed himself of the opportunity to refill his coffee while Yuna and Ximena spoke, turning round just in time for Ximena to focus on him once more. He took a sip of his coffee, and listened

She leveled a finger at Scott accusingly, her Cheshire grin only growing wider.

"I heard the most vile rumor while digging through files, and I'm hoping you can set the record straight. Is it true that you scored a kill on an F-22, God's favorite killing machine, with a big, slow, dumb Intruder?

He paused with the mug to his mouth, mismatched eyes looking over the rim of it at her, then away despondently, before he reluctantly lowered the mug.
"Man, that story is going to keep following me into the grave, I swear. Unless it drives me to an early one first. And then academy graduates are going to contact me with a ouija board or through a seance to ask me about it..."
He sighed and grudgingly shrugged. "Yes, Jefe; it's true. Although, you're the first one to ask with such a... florid choice of words, that's for sure. And don't you call my beloved Harrier ugly".
A glimmer of amusement danced in his eyes as he bantered back with the other pilot, playing the knowing game of affectionate ribbing and superiority that pilots always played. The corner of his mouth was set in that characteristic half-smile he near always carried as he continued, gesturing with one hand and with the coffee cup held in his other.
"And I assume you'll want to know how I pulled this feat off? That's usually what comes next?"

He raised an eyebrow quizzically as he took another sip of his coffee, settling himself into one of the office chairs around the table. "Well, maybe I'll indulge you - at least, until Chevy turns up and I get started on the actual mission planning".

@Smike, @Damo021, @Kensai

"Morning, Calico. Good to see you in a less... hectic setting and get a chance to be introduced"

Yuna briefly smiled, before making an obviously tongue-in-cheek pouty face at Scott. "Aww, you didn't think clearing rooms together was a good way to meet?? Personally, I'd put that in my top 5 ways to make a first impression, right after getting in a car accident together." Yuna then continued with a mock sigh. "But I suppose it's nice to see you without getting shot at." She smiled and raised her cup to an invisible "cheers".

"Hey hey, kitty-cat. Glad to see you made it out in one piece."

Yuna turned to address her new friend. "Of course I did! It would be rude of me to die only hours after meeting you. Wouldn't be fair to those Cisk lagers either."

"And you came by just in time! I was going to interrogate Heartbreak here, and I'm not allowed to question suspects without a witness."

Yuna leaned forward in her chair with an intrigued look on her face, waiting to see what Jefe was about to "interrogate" her new CO with.

"I heard the most vile rumor while digging through files, and I'm hoping you can set the record straight. Is it true that you scored a kill on an F-22, God's favorite killing machine, with a big, slow, dumb Intruder?"

Yuna was glad that she hadn't been sipping her coffee at that moment, or else she would have likely spit it out.

"I'm sorry...you did WHAT?" she exclaimed as she turned her head to face Scott.

"Yes, Jefe; it's true. Although, you're the first one to ask with such a... florid choice of words, that's for sure. And don't you call my beloved Flying Drumstick ugly".
...
"And I assume you'll want to know how I pulled this feat off? That's usually what comes next?"
...
"Well, maybe I'll indulge you - at least, until Chevy turns up and I get started on the actual mission planning".

"Wait, let me guess," chimed in Yuna once again. "Both of its engines were out. Or it was on the ground. Or it was being flown by, like, a seeing-eye dog. Or your A-6 was built by aliens. Or you were built by aliens. Or, wait! ...all of the above. Yeah, that's gotta be it. Am I close?"

@Rhona W @Smike

Before Scott could continue, the door to the briefing room swung open, and Aurélie strode briskly in. Unlike last time, she was dressed more casually - which, for her, meant flats; another impeccably tailored uniform, just that it was service uniform instead of dress; her hair done up in a tight high ponytail instead of braided.

"Quand on parle du loup, on voit sa queue," she said with a dazzling smile. "When you speak of the wolf, you see its tail."

She set a tablet and folder on the table, taking the seat next to Scott. "But we have business now, n'est-ce pas? Cobalt Haze is down yet another pilot, and it is a miracle that we did not lose more. I see we have some replacements - " a curt nod to Yuna and Ximena " - but this means that we must reconfigure the squadron organisation."

Like a Monte Carlo croupier showing a hand, she fanned out a set of aerial photographs, fresh from the printer. The results of Cobalt Recon's work.

"We have partly neutralised the landing party at Lampedusa for the time being. Fuka did some good work there, they will take some time to get sorted out, and she eliminated a good part of their sealift assets. So we do not need to worry about them for some time. But Linosa still has an abundance of heavy lift helicopters covered by copious and skilled AD, as we have seen. They might try for an air assault so we could try to destroy them on the ground, but it will be tricky."

She shrugged, a whole-body movement.

"Or we could keep an eye on them, wait for them to make the attempt, and then interdict it in the air. That requires more surveillance and the timing is tricky, but then we would not have to worry about SEAD."

Aurélie's eyes met Scott's - blue as the waters of the Aegean, and grave.

"Your call, mon capitaine."

Ximena Huang

"It's admittedly concerning that I was what gave you the will to survive, but hey, if that's what it takes. One casualty is probably enough for now."

It was two, actually, according to what she heard, but it seemed in poor taste to bring up the KIA pilot. Bringing up the WIA one was also in poor taste, but significantly less so.

Ximena waited for Yuna to get comfortable before beginning her opening statement, laying out the accusation like a lawyer looking to get famous by securing a significant conviction. Scott, the scoundrel and criminal he was, squirmed under the weight of his crimes.

Hell yes I want to know! An attack craft that was outdated during the Gulf War, moving with all the speed and wherewithal of a drunk tortoise, scored a kill on what is essentially invisible greased lightning equipped with sensors advanced enough to spy into heaven? I am outraged, sir, outraged."

Yuna brought up good points, Ximena nodding sagely as her assistant prosecutor laid out all the possibilities.

"It was all of the above most likely, and of course the fight still had to be 'equalized. '" She let the word slide off her tongue as if she were describing one of the more distasteful bodily functions, practically spitting it from her mouth. "My guess is that the glorious and tragic hero- the mighty Raptor, king of all birds!- wasn't allowed to fight in the way that suited it. I bet that the rightly named Devil Dogs arranged for it to be chained, to be denied the use of its elegant stealth hunting tactics in favor of brutishly trading punches like some backalley brawler and you, Heartbreak, were merely the man assigned to pull the trigger. It was not a fight but an execution and I demand-"

She was just getting into her persona when Aurélie came rushing in, Jefe glancing at the rapidly approaching figure as a diatribe died on her lips.

Son of a bitch...

How very unlike a Frenchwoman to be the one suggesting they get to work. Still, there was no need to be unprofessional. Ximena returned the nod and gathered around the table, whistling appreciatively at the photos.

"Looks like you guys did a number on them already. I'm not the one who signed the contract, but I'm sure the Maltese would appreciate it if we finished the job on the ground instead of waiting for them to take a crack at this place."

Granted, it was easy to suggest that when you piloted a stealth fighter. Why would she be afraid of a little air defense?

@Rhona W @Kensai @Finetales

Fuka Nakano

Honestly, she had slept better than she had in weeks. There was something about the post-firefight glow that soothed her, the sensation of her muscles loosening and the adrenaline draining from her system. It was like a reverse runner's high, a dogtiredness that permeated her bones and made a chunk of ground with a tarp over as inviting as a bed at the Ritz-Carlton. It had to be similar to what bears felt at the end of fall: a deep satisfaction at having proved herself dominant over those who would hurt her, and an all-consuming need to hibernate.

Waking up with the sun gave her maybe five or six hours of rest, not ideal but nothing that she couldn't deal with. She couldn't have gone back to sleep anyway; her arm was flaring up. Her flesh and blood, a piece of her very identity, had been abandoned to the medical waste bin and was now tormenting her from beyond the grave. It was strange to feel pain shooting through what she could see was empty space, an ache emanating from nothing. Attaching her prosthetic didn't help, her exeminatory flexing of false fingers doing nothing to dispel the phantom sensation.

There was nothing to do except get to work.

She usually started her day by running, but Fuka needed to feel something burn. The gym was utilitarian but about as well stocked as any other she had seen, and as long as there was a barbell she could get what she needed out of the experience. She had no goal, no number of reps to meet or any intention of beating a PR.

She just needed to drown out the arm.

She didn't know how many sets she had done or even how much weight she was lifting when she spotted the new girl, but her body was properly sore and not just enthralled in psychosomatic nonsense so Peacenik chalked it up as mission accomplished. She set the bar back on its rack before approaching her new squadmate.

"Hey, new girl- it's Sparrow, right? Good shooting last night."

@Damo021

"Your call, mon capitaine."

Scott was spared having to relate his story, or reply to Ximena's other comments, as Aurelie arrived and immediate set to business, albeit with a charm and energy that was a pleasure to see in action. He nodded as he listened to her words, looking at the pictures as Ximena slid them over closer to where they both stood. As the frenchwoman finished her summary and Ximena chimed in, he nodded again.

"I agree with your assessment, Chevy. Combined with the results of searching through the belongings of our would-be saboteurs, it seems like they'd planned to knock out our air defences, and then launch an amphibious assault spearheaded by the helicopters and likely with air cover from their more capable aircraft".
Scott slid some other papers aside and moved some photos to where they could all see them, showing aerial views of what were clearly airbases with busy aprons and a lot of activity.
"These are from a recon satellite, taken within the last twelve hours. It seems like the Libyans are moving a lot of their air and naval assets to the northern part of the country, barring some for keeping their borders secure. Seems to me that this is a prelude to a larger offensive as well."
He shifted the photos around and laid out a blow-up of one of them, centered on a number of large, boxy aircraft.
"I'm particularly concerned about these - Tu-22 Blinders. They're old aircraft; sure. But they can carry very long range missiles, and a heavy bombload to boot. With a screen of fighters, they could prove to be an issue, and even attack southern Italy, let alone here. And, it seems like command agrees with me, as we've been tasked to conduct strikes on those airfields and naval bases as a preliminary move to an N/UN assault. But, we can't move against them until we've eliminated the immediate threat to our own safety, which is the forces stationed at Lampedusa and the AD protecting them. However, in our favour; we have a new plane and its' crew arriving-" He checked his watch "- any time now to bring us up to numbers even more. Kitten is also on her way back from the hospital, and both her and my aircraft are ready for action."
He picked up his tablet and tapped the screen, sending the information on the newly arriving pilots and their aircraft so that they others could see it.
"As for the question of how we should approach this, well; the risk may be higher for making the assault while the helos are grounded due to the air defences, but Jefe is right; the risk of damage to the facilities and infrastructure here is much less, and we're better off making the first move and seizing the opportunity while we have it than waiting. We at least know where their air defences are located thanks to the recon flight you and Peacenik pulled off, which gives us an advantage in mission planning to take them out"
A firm smile settled on his lips as he nodded across at Aurelie.
"What's your thoughts, Captain? I think we stand a good chance if we split into two sections with one focused on the SEAD mission and attacking the airfield at Lampedusa, while the other takes care of the helicopters on Linosa and any naval shipping that's escaped the port. I'd like you to command one of those flights".

@Smike, @Kensai, @Finetales, @Hyperion338