To make up for not having updated in a year, you get three chapters in less than two weeks :)

Chapter Quote:
"I was on the path of the warrior, when I realized I was the warrior."
~Neetal Parekh
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Chapter 13: Deliberation Part 2

Brett

Interview #5
The Bringer of Death
Oured, Osea
22 September, 2005

"This man was head of the command group, and was known as the Vulture. Schwarze Team Commander, Dominic Zubov, former member of the Belkan Air Force, 13th Night Fighter Air Division, 6th Tactical Fighter Squadron. He fled after the final battle in order to avoid prosecution for various war crimes. He is still on the run and being hunted as an escaped killer." I shuddered slightly as I said that last line into my recorder. This was my first interview. He had also been the hardest to track down, mostly because of him being on the run. And considering he was an escaped killer, I wasn't going into the interview unarmed. I had a loaded gun hidden on my back, its outline hidden by my oversized aviator jacket.

I made my way to an abandoned warehouse district, rehearsing every question I needed and wanted to ask him because once I left him today, it would take ages to ever find him again. This man used to be a professional pilot. Now he was a professional runner.

When I entered the building he told me he'd be in, all was silent. Deciding against calling out, I made my way through it in search of him. He was probably watching me this very moment, watching to make sure I didn't bring any Osean officials with me. After twenty minutes of searching and waiting, I was about to give up hope when a voice rose from the darkness behind me. I panicked and rather than grabbing my gun, I grabbed a metal pipe next to me and chucked it in the direction of the voice. It clattered to the ground, missing the target.

"Got an arm on you, boy," a man said, stepping out from the shadows. I recognized him immediately as Zubov and let out a small sigh of relief. "Glad that didn't hit me. You that reporter? Thompson?"

"How long have you been there, man?" I breathed. "And yeah, I'm Brett Thompson."

"About ten minutes. Had to make sure I wasn't followed, that you didn't have anyone following you, or that you had anyone with you. Let me see some identification."

I pulled out my driver's license to show him. He put his face up close to it, scrutinizing it. "I guess you're legit. All right, ask away."

I set up my camera and stood behind it, beginning the interview. Or at least I tried. Zubov immediately piped up with, "Sorry about the accommodations. It goes with the business. I'm not active during the day."

"What do you do at night?" I countered.

He smirked. "You don't want to know that."

"I'll assume it's something illegal, then."

"You're a sharp kid."

"So before you came to be what you are, what were you during the Belkan War and can you tell me about the day you met the Demon Lord?"

"Back then, I was a shadow assassin. An 'escapee killer'. Given the order, I'd even shoot down my own comrades. I received an order to take down deserting craft on that day. It was a typical assignment. But... something unexpected happened. My target was no new recruit, but a top ace of the Belkan Air Force. And he just had to go and run straight into the chaos at the Round Table. The man was sharp just like the rumors. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the mercenary team of Solo Wing and him were there. Thanks to them, I lost my target. I figured the least I could was take them down in return. Of course, that was where my luck ran out." He stared out the broken glass at the sprawling city of Oured, a sliver of Versailles Palace visible from far away. I could see my own building, the headquarters of Osean Broadcasting Corporation, or OBC. It was ironic to me that the guy that had been so hard to find had been the closest one to me.

But I focused on the interview rather than my own thoughts. Genuinely surprised by his answer, I inquired "You knew Solo Wing?"

"Solo Wing is famous amongst mercenaries. He and I fought on the same side for a brief amount of time. We also fought against each other. I know I said I would've shot down my own comrades if given the order, and there are few people I would've felt kind of bad for if I did have to shoot him down. Solo Wing was one of those. What was confusing is first, why he wasn't captain, and second, why his captain had his wing painted red. It confused me because I kept thinking I was going after Solo Wing only to find out he was on the other side of the Round Table fighting my squadron members. That must have been one strong camaraderie between him and his captain, that much can be said."

"You respect Solo Wing. What are your feelings towards Demon Lord?"

"It's an annoying respect. I don't want to respect him because he shot me down and effectively ended my career as a pilot, but I do because that was one hell of a pilot. I've never seen anything like it, and I saw Solo Wing fight and fly with one wing."

"You saw Solo Wing when he earned his name?"

"Who do you think got his wing kid? The thing about Solo Wing is that he may not have necessarily been able to beat me the first time around, but he learned quickly and knew what my strengths and weaknesses were, hence why he helped Demon Lord beat me the second time we met. But the Demon Lord beat me the first time he ever met me, and it didn't take him long to figure out my strengths and weaknesses. But that's not what made him unique. What made him unique was he didn't gloat. He didn't circle the wreckages of the planes he'd shot down. He didn't fly low to remind them of his presence. He continued on with his mission. And when there were no more planes, he vanished."

"Did you always fly for Belka?" I queried.

"No, no, I flew for multiple countries. I'm Yuktobanian, so I fought for them for a bit, fought in the infamous Battle of Zhytomyr where I lost over eighty percent of my forces. I and most of the remaining members of that squadron were discharged, them for symptoms of PTSD. I was fine and knew they were discharging me because I was too 'wild' for them even though on the record it shows that I had PTSD as well. But I didn't give up. I joined the Republic of Romny's air force later that year and helped fight against the coup against their president at the time. Then I left there and joined Valka's air force. Made a name for myself, and Belka noticed. Offered me a large sum of money to fight for them, so I did. They needed someone who wouldn't hesitate to shoot deserters. For that reason, they made me head of that squadron. I was only one of two survivors during that battle over B7R."

"You flew for money, then?"

"Yeah. Don't let my looks fool you. I have cash stashed all over the place. I'm well off. I'm just waiting for the world to stop hunting me down. When that happens, I'll come out of hiding and live a lavish lifestyle that would make kings jealous."

I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not because he seemed like the type that would exaggerate if it made him seem like a bigger and better person than the one he was talking to. I decided to prod further into his statement.

"You flew for money, but what do you think the Demon Lord flew for?"

"Money, what every mercenary flies for. You think he was willingly putting himself in life-threatening situations and pulling death defying stunts because he enjoys it? No, no, no. I know what Ustio pays their mercenaries who are good, and he wasn't just good, he was phenomenal. He could've retired after his first mission at the Round Table, but he kept going. Why? Because they kept paying him," Zubov declared, rubbing invisible cash between his fingers. "If you want to find out who the Demon Lord was, follow the money Ustio was paying their mercenaries. Always follow the money."
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Interview #6
A Man Who Lived For Battle
The State of North Osea
23 September 2005

"Schnee Team Commander, former member of the Belkan Air Force 22nd Air Division, 4th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Erich 'Phonix' Hillenberand. He never had great ambitions. All he ever hoped for was to make a living as a regular pilot. Today he works as a flight instructor for civilian pilots." I stopped the recorder and got out of my car, walking into Jackson Hill Airport. I approached a security guard to tell him I had an appointment with one of the instructors. He radioed up to them and within a few moments, Hillenberand appeared in front of me. Compared to Zubov, he was much friendlier and a lot less creepy. He also didn't have a murderous gleam in his eye...

"Hi there, you must be Brett Thompson," he said cheerfully as he shook my hand.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice," I replied gratefully.

"My pleasure. We'll talk in my office. Follow me." The two of us entered a restricted area of the airport. He led me to a small, organized office that overlooked the tarmac, showing all the planes coming and going. I quickly set up the camera knowing that I was short on time to interview him.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Ask away!" he answered confidently.

"Why'd you join the air force?"

"I always wanted to fly as a kid and as I grew older, that didn't change, but I also wanted to serve my country. So I combined the two together and became an air force pilot. Never expected to become an ace. I was never interested in being rewarded or being promoted. When I was, those just happened. My lack of ambition, I guess is the nicest way to explain it, is why some called me 'Eternal Second Lieutenant'. Not the nicest of nicknames but I laughed at it."

"You rose through the ranks quickly though. Is that why they sent you to challenge the Demon Lord"

"They sent me because the two previous ace squadrons had failed. I believe it was Silber and Schwarze. To be honest, Silber was mostly trainee aces. They were amazing fighters, and their leader a great man, and while they were ready for the intensity of B7R, they weren't ready for the intensity of the Demon Lord. Now I'm surprised Schwarze didn't shoot him down, although that wasn't his original mission. He changed it when the Demon Lord got in his way. I'm just wondering why they thought me and my squadron, of all people, could beat him if the known assassin couldn't."

"What happened to you that day?"

"The instant he shot me, I pulled the lever. I barely managed to escape from my plane as it burst into flames. After drifting from the blast, I landed below the Round Table. It was a wide-open, barren wasteland. How long would I have to wait for a rescue party? Radio interference within the Round Table was fierce. The odds of a distress signal actually reaching anyone was low. I was at a loss for what to do. Anyway, I'd really gone out with a bang this time. I took that as a sign it was time for me to retire. But just then, I heard a roaring overhead. It was his plane. I was jealous of his calm, flying form. Rather than wait for the rescue team, I began to walk towards the nearest base. I was driven by desire to get back up there and fight him again. Of course, it did take me three days to get there." Despite the bad ending, Hillenberand was chuckling, remembering the moment with amusement.

"Why not wait for the rescue team to come rescue you?"

"B7R has a magnetic field that oftentimes interfered with the rescue team's ability to find us. I was better off walking and finding the nearest base than waiting for them. I always stuffed snacks in my pockets because I'm perpetually hungry so while I didn't have much food on me, I had enough to help me get through the three days. Mostly energy bars."

"One ace I interviewed belonged to Schwarze. He had no problem turning against one of his own if ordered. What was your relationship with your squadron like?"

"We were all friends and had each other's backs. Three of the five of us are still alive, and I stay in touch with the other two. One was killed that day in battle by the mercenaries although whether it was the Demon Lord or his wingman, I'm not sure. They were identical so I'm not sure who was trailing me at that point in time but I know that it was the Demon Lord who got me in the end. The other passed away in another battle later on, not by the Demon Lord."

"You fought because you loved to fly and you wanted to serve your country at the same time. Why do you think the Demon Lord flew?"

"Well he obviously knew what he was doing and he must've known he was good. I mean, to go against three ace squadrons, multiple times, you have to know you're good. As much as I want to believe that he was an arrogant S.O.B., I don't think he was. When he flew over me, it didn't seem as if he was rubbing it in that he was still flying and I wasn't. He was just... doing what he did best. He sounded young the few times his voice came through on the radio, so to find what he was good at so young, to find what you were born to do in life at that age, he was lucky. It took me decades to find the right place for me. I knew it was in the sky, I just didn't know where. But it's here, training civilian pilots."

"If you could go back in that time knowing what you do now, is there anything you would change?"

"No, I wouldn't change anything. I hated getting shot down but it made me who I am today, it got me where I am right now, and I get to say that I met the Demon Lord in the sky. That alone makes me a tad bit famous. All my students that I train, their eyes light up when I say I fought in the Belkan War and the first question out of their mouth is 'did you fly with the Demon Lord?' I get to have the pleasure in saying I did, even if I was on the opposing side. They don't seem to mind," he said with a grin. It faded into a soft smile as he said, "I'd like to thank him in person one day, if he's still alive. For helping me find a place I belong and for giving me stories to tell my students. I owe him."
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Interview #7
The Reborn Veteran
Birneheim, Belka
24 September, 2005

"Silber Team Commander, former member of the Belkan Air Force 51st Air Division, 126th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Dietrich 'Boss' Kellerman. He was once the top ace of Belka, and a fiery instructor at the Air Force Academy. In 1995, the Belkan Air Force sent him to the front lines to bolster troop morale." I clicked the stop button on the recorder, knowing full well I was going to have to repeat what I'd just said later on so that there wouldn't be the sound of the car in the background.

I was driving down the country roads of Belka, in the country's farmland. Out here, your closest neighbor could be a mile or two away. I couldn't live like that, being this far away from civilization. But for some, the isolation is exactly what they needed.

I pulled onto one of the only paved driveways I'd seen, parking in front of a two-story, white house with a covered porch. A woman sat on the swinging bench reading a book. When I got out of the car, she smiled and said, "Hello, what can I do for you?"

"I'm here to interview Dietrich Kellerman."

"Oh you must be the reporter!" she exclaimed. "Yes, he's been expecting you. He's out in the barn so just go on ahead. You can't miss it being bright red and all."

I thanked her and followed her directions, arriving at the barn about a minute later. I knocked on the door to announce my arrival so as not to frighten my interviewee. He turned around, pitchfork in hand. He was bald but had a white beard. His tired eyes held a kindness in them as he waited for me to introduce myself.

"Hello sir, I'm Brett Thompson. The woman on the porch told me I could come here to interview you."

"It's nice to meet you son. You mind if we do the interview in here? I have a lot of work to get done,"

"Not at all. Let me just set up my camera and I'll be ready to go." I quickly did as I said and within five minutes of idle chit chat, we were ready for the formal interview.

"You were in the Belkan Air Force before the Belkan War broke out. Tell me about that and why you joined."

"I joined in the early seventies, right when this country was embroiled in the war with Recta. I wanted to help my country win that war. That was the first time the 'Silber Team' fought as one in combat and it was the start of a glorious and impressive record. I was called the 'Hero of Mainz' because of that war. Silber's second round in battle was during the Wellow Incident which was when some unidentified aircraft flew into Belkan territory. We were tasked with shooting them down. I retired in 1990, content with what I'd accomplished in my time as a pilot, but in 1995, when Belka was experiencing more defeats, they called me back to increase troop morale. I put together a team of the brightest students and trained them quickly so that we could be battle ready. This was the third Silber Team. It was also the last."

"The first official battle of your return, was that B7R?" I queried. He nodded. "And that was where you met the Demon Lord?"

"He was good. From what I'd heard about him, I thought he was still just a young mercenary. But he'd matured since then. He still wasn't perfect, but I could see he had come a long way toward understanding the rules of combat. What's important on the battlefield is to let go of hate, to survive, and to adhere to the rules you've set for yourself. These are the rules I've taught my students. And when I saw him, I could tell my time was done. A new generation had inherited the sky. There was no more need for an old soldier like me."

"What do you mean he'd matured? How could you tell?" I asked.

"When I was called back, Belka had acquired some footage of the Demon Lord flying in a few of the cities where he'd defeated our forces. Just from his flying style, I could tell he was new to battle. I'd also talked to some of the survivors that had fought against him and they said he sounded young. Young typically means inexperienced. Compared to the footage I saw to what I experienced, it was evident to me he had come into his own. He had found what worked for him, how to really lead. He knew what he could and couldn't do and he wasn't afraid to take risks."

"Can you give an example?" I prodded.

"When I met him, he was coming at us head-on. All other pilots I'd encountered as my time as a pilot, whether they be Ustian, Osean, or Yuktobanian or Rectan, none of them had ever attacked me initially from head on. He was smart too. He had long range missiles. He used those to scatter us because it was as if he knew that we were stronger together than apart. That observation leads me to believe he was either Belkan originally or he had done his homework on Belkan pilots."

"Why didn't you want to go back up in the air after that battle?"

Kellerman's eyes stared at a spot on the ground as he recalled, "Only I and Rupert survived. He had been my number two. Stefan, or Silber Three, and Sebastian, Silber Five, were both killed in action. I landed near Sebastian's trashed plane and I will never forget being able to see him still in there, knowing he wasn't alive. One of the greatest things about being a pilot is that you rarely, if ever, see a dead body. So when you're up against someone else in a machine, you see the enemy as a machine rather than a person. But when you do see that dead body for the first time, it shakes you to your core. Especially when it's one of your own."

Kellerman sighed as I said gently, "What about Silber Four?"

"No one knows. Sven's plane was found but not him. Footprints next to his plane suggested he made it out alive, but no one knows where he went and he's never been found. I pray he's alive, but I believe I will never know."

"What happened to you and Rupert?"

"Rupert landed in Ustian territory so when he was found, he became a P.O.W. He stayed in Dessel Island Detention Center until the end of the war. When he was freed, he moved back to Belka and he's an ordinary citizen now. Just like me. I landed in Belkan territory and was rescued, but the Allies tried me as a war criminal at the end of the conflict. I got away with light sentencing which I'm grateful for."

"Why did you move out here?" I inquired, wondering why someone would move away to a place so far from civilization.

"After being surrounded by noise and excitement my entire life, I knew I wanted to live out the rest of my life in peace and quiet. This has been my family's farm for centuries. I moved out here with my wife and haven't regretted it since," he admitted.

"You fought to help your country win. Why do you think the Demon Lord flew?"

"I would say he flew for his allies, particularly his wingman. Once in a while I'd catch their chatter, or bickering, over the radio. They acted like brothers. Their flying styles were almost identical. When one was in trouble, the other would be there immediately to help out. They flew in perfect harmony. They were a team that wanted to survive. So I think the Demon Lord flew for his wingman and I believe his wingman flew for his captain."

"Do you think the Demon Lord is alive?"

"Without a doubt. He was the leader of that new generation of pilots I was talking about. He was at the top, his wingman right behind him. If he's smart, he won't fly again. I've always been able to tell when a new conflict is brewing, when a new war is about to start. Give it about four or five years. We'll be in a new war. Maybe Belka will be involved, maybe we won't. But if a country asks him to fly, he'd be smart to say no. There will be a new ace of this upcoming war, and it won't be him."
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Cipher

I hadn't even thought about being asked to fly in any upcoming war. I would say no if I was asked. Unless Osea was about to fall and be taken over, I wouldn't fly again. I agreed with Kellerman. There would be a new ace if another war broke out, and I knew it wouldn't be me.

"Did you ever see a dead body?" Genette asked quietly. Elizabeth hit him on the arm, as if to tell him that was an inappropriate question without saying it outright. But I knew why he was asking, and I wasn't offended by the question either.

"I did, but not on the battle field. You'll find out when though. Unfortunately, it's part of the story," I replied.

"Have any of them been right so far about why you flew?"

"A couple have come close. Some have just been dead wrong."

"Like Zubov?" Elizabeth stated.

I let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, like Zubov. He's as far away from the truth as possible, but I must say, the follow the money thing to find out who I am, that was smart. Makes me worry that someone might actually try it though..."

"Surely Ustio or Osea hid the paper trail for that?" Genette said.

"You would think, but you can't exactly trust the government sometimes. Although they've kept my identity a secret this long so they're doing something right."

"Wait, wait, wait, there's Pixy!" Elizabeth exclaimed, turning up the television so she could hear it even though it'd been at a perfectly good volume before. "Uncle Jason, I hope you don't mind me saying this because I know he's your buddy and all and he's old enough to be my dad, albeit a very, very young one, but Pixy is really damn attractive."

I actually let out a laugh at that. "If I see him again, I'll be sure to let him know that a youngling like yourself finds an old man like him attractive."

"Don't you dare!" She exclaimed. "Now shush, I want to listen."

"You're drooling," Genette remarked. Without even looking over at him, she slammed him in the face with a pillow. He actually didn't taunt her anymore, but probably because he was just as invested into what Pixy had to say as his sister was. As I was.

Pixy was still in the decrepit building with his arm resting on his gun. He had a slight smile on his face as he said, "Every time I flew with him, his skill stood out. He was unstoppable. It didn't matter where the battlefield was, the man had complete trust in his own powers. A combat professional. He was cool-headed and proud. He would ascertain the situation in an instant and change the tide of battle. He was born for battle, for combat, a man who struck down all opposition. He paid no heed to the troubles of those who flew with him. That said, it was hell trying to keep up with him. It was no wonder they called him a Demon Lord. 'Demon Lord' fit him perfectly. Maybe the man was blessed by the goddess of war. Before long, everyone had taken notice of him. More and more would show up to watch him go off on sortie. Mercenaries or maintenance crew, it didn't matter. People wanted to burn his image to their memories. Hell, they weren't the only ones."

"He was cool-headed?" Brett asked from behind the camera. I couldn't blame him for asking. Just recounting the stories, I realized how insane I was back then, at least flying-wise.s

"Despite the chatter and our bickering, he was. I never met a man who could be so... calm when flying in high stress situations. I think that alone gave confidence in our allies to hear him being like that. Even I would get stressed from time to time and you could hear it in my voice. But rarely did he ever sound stressed. I can only recall one time, but you'll hear about that later."

"When you said people wanted to burn his image to their memories and that they weren't the only ones, are you referring to yourself?"

"My path deviated from his during the war. I knew it would at some point. Despite my intentions to not get too attached to anyone, I found myself seeing him as a brother that I'd never had. All the other battles I'd fought as a mercenary, I hadn't really cared if my allies were shot down as long as I was still up and flying. But that changed when I met him. I found myself constantly making sure that he was still up in the air, to make sure my Buddy was alive. That was when I knew I'd changed. That was when I knew what was to come was about to be much, much harder."
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