"Everything that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form."
~Franz Kafka
______________________________

Brian

"Kit?" Bryn croaked out. A flicker of confused recognition crossed my dad's face in response.

"How do you know that name?" he asked in a shockingly steady, albeit quiet, tone. "Why do I know you?"

"I, uh, I can answer that," I said, raising the picture for them to see. Neither adult needed a closer look.

Dad shook his head ever so slightly. "Bryn Holloway isn't the girl's name in the photo."

Bryn smiled sadly. "You're right. It's Bryn Banks."

"You mean-"

"That girl is me, and Holloway isn't my original last name. I changed it after the war to avoid people finding me. Just like your name used to be Christopher MacGregor instead of Christopher Galbraith."

"So that's really- that's really you in the photo?"

"Yeah," Bryn breathed. And then, as if unable to contain her enthrallment any longer, she threw her arms around my dad's neck. I could see her fingers digging into his back, gripping onto him as if her life depended on it, as if he'd disappear if she let go. Dad snaked his arms hesitantly around her waist, the disbelief and shock evident in his dark blue eyes.

I gave them a few moments before dropping the second bombshell on them. Well, at least for Bryn, it would be a second one. Clearing my throat, I managed to get their attention. Bryn pulled away but kept her hand on his shoulder.

"Uh, Dad, Bryn is Mobius One," I said, shifting on my feet. "Bryn, my dad is Yellow 13..."

At this, Bryn's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open ever so slightly. She glanced up at Dad. "You-you're Yellow 13?"

He nodded. "I knew you were Mobius before I got here, and I didn't want you to know my identity in case you left because of it. I thought you might hold some answers to my missing memories, but I swear I didn't know about you being- that you were- " Dad paused and gathered his thoughts- "I didn't know about our past."

"Oh God..." Bryn sagged against the counter in the blink of an eye. Dad, Felicity, and I all rushed forward to steady her, but she held a shaking hand out to stop us. "I'm- I'm fine. I just-" Bryn lifted her head, her chest rising and falling rapidly- "I killed you. I killed your wingman. You killed my best friend and nearly killed me. We fought each other so many times and never- did you know?"

"I don't know. I don't remember," Dad admitted sadly.

"Do you remember me at all?"

"Other than you were my best friend? No..."

Bryn nodded, pursing her lips. I could see her willpower crumbling as she desperately tried to hold herself together. After a couple moments of silence, she said, "I'm, uh, I'm going to go to my room. I need some time to process this."

Without another word, Bryn pushed herself off the counter and brushed past, but not before I saw the tears rolling down her face. Dad must've seen them, too, because he lurched forward to go after himself but stopped just as quickly.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, guilt flooding my veins. "We figured it out right before you got here and were trying to figure out a way to break it to you both without-"

"This isn't your fault," Dad interrupted, smiling comfortingly at me despite his obvious despair. "She and I will figure this out. It wouldn't have been easy regardless of how we met."

"I don't want her to leave yet," I confessed, handing him the photo.

Dad took it, staring down at the grinning kids he and Bryn used to be. "Me neither. Let's give her some breathing room, and then I'll go talk to her."

Without another word, Dad shuffled to his office, shutting the door behind him. Meanwhile, Felicity grabbed the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass before one of us stepped on it. While I knelt down to help her, all I could think about was the trauma I'd brought down on Dad and Bryn. Could they overcome this? Could she help him get his memories back? Could they forgive each other for the hell they put each other through, even if it was unintentional?
______________________________

Bryn

I sank against my bedroom door and stayed there for hours, unable to process everything that had happened in the span of five minutes. Everything that I'd known for the last decade had been thrown out the window and into an endless void. All that remained was my confusion and inner turmoil.

Around the two- or three-hour mark, I shifted to my bed and stared at the ceiling, still trying to figure out how to approach Kit the next time I saw him. Could I even face him? Would he want to see me? I killed his wingman; I'm the reason he has amnesia. Who could forgive a person for doing that to them, regardless of their ignorance of committing it?

A knock on my door jarred me back to my senses, but rather than answering it, I simply closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep in case they peeked in. I didn't want to be bothered right now.

"Bryn?" Kit's voice floated from behind the door, followed by another knock, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. The door creaked open. Shuffling footsteps entered my room. I could hear Kit moving around, digging through the trunk in the corner of the room. A few seconds later, a blanket was placed atop me, and he left. I waited a few seconds before opening my eyes.

Or so I thought.

Turns out the shock of today, accompanied by the warmth of the blanket, lulled me into sleep without realizing it. When I woke, darkness had overtaken the sky. The wind no longer howled, the moon didn't shine, and no sound came from outside or inside. There was just dead silence, except for my starving, growling stomach.

I ignored it and sat up, staring in the blackness of my room, mulling over my options. I didn't want to sit in quiet anymore. I needed to talk to someone, but I didn't want it to be Kit, Brian, or Felicity. I needed someone who understood what I was going through. But who? Who did I know had lost their best friend only to have them return from the dead out of the-

Blaze.

The epiphany came so swiftly that all I could do was grab my phone and dial her number. She picked up on the third ring, groggily asking, "Hello?"

"Blaze, it's Bryn."

"Oh, hey, what's up?" My cousin still sounded sleepy and out of it, causing me to glance at the time. Three in the morning. Shit.

"Oh my God, I just saw the- I shouldn't have called! You go back to sleep. This can wait until the mor-"

Blaze's voice was barely above a whisper, but she sounded more awake. "Bryn, if you called me this late at night without realizing the time, whatever's on your mind is obviously bothering you. Give me a sec, and then I can talk freely."

I heard a muffled, gruff voice on the other end, followed by Blaze responding, "It's Bryn. You go back to sleep... love you too."

A few more seconds passed before my cousin finally said in a normal, alert voice, "All right, what's going on?"

"Kit's alive," I blurted, figuring there was no easy way to break it to her.

"Kit, as in... your dead best friend Kit?" Blaze asked in shock.

"As if that wasn't a punch in the gut, I also learned he was Yellow 13, which means I shot him down, gave him amnesia because he can't remember shit about who I am, shot down his wingman after he shot down my best friend, and I can't- I can't handle this by myself. I don't know what to do, Blaze. You're the only person I know who's had someone you love come back from the dead, and I need your help figuring out what to do."

"Holy shit," Blaze breathed. "That's... that's... wow. I mean, I'm not sure I'm the best person to come to advice for, considering I did nearly shoot my husband when I found out he was alive, but I'll try."

I couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped my lips. "I guess I at least have that going for me."

"Yeah, don't recommend shooting him."

"At least not a second time."

"You didn't know it was him the first time."

"Doesn't change the fact that I did it."

"No, but if he hated you for it, do you really think he'd let you stay in his house?"

"No..."

"It's good that you gave yourself some space. Things said when you're in the heat of a moment can sometimes do more damage than good, but you do need to talk to him at some point."

"Where would I even begin? There's so much I want to tell him, but I don't want to scare him off. It's so weird having all these memories of the two of us and the things we told each other, and to have him staring back at me with this... baffled expression because he remembers none of it."

"I think you two first need to break the ice and get comfortable around each other before you approach that topic."

"Great suggestion, but how?"

"I'll ask Chopper in the morning. He was always able to get along with anyone and everyone, and he could get rid of any tension. It's a gift."

"I wish you were here to help with this."

"Do you want me to fly up there?" Blaze offered sincerely.

"No, no, no," I replied, despite wishing desperately to tell her yes. "You've just gotten your own life to calm down, and I'm sure you want to spend time with the kids after you went almost a year without seeing them."

"I'm not getting any weird feelings about coming up there, and my feelings are usually spot on."

"No, I want you to spend time with the kids. They need their mom."

"All right, but just say the word, and I'll come up."

"I know you would, and I appreciate it. I think I just needed to vent to someone who understood what I was going through."

"You can always call me, even if I don't understand. Do you want to talk tomorrow? Or, I guess, later today?"

"Only if you're free. I know you have your hands full with four children."

"Five."

"Five?! Are you pregnant again?!" I exclaimed a little louder than I intended.

Blaze snorted. "Oh, fuck no. I'm referring to my husband, who's currently sawing down a forest with his snoring. He usually doesn't snore, but he's getting over a cold."

I laughed at her indignant and immediate response. "Speaking of which, you probably want to get back to bed too. Thanks for calming me down, Blaze."

"That's what family is for. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything else, no matter the time. Talk to you soon." We bid each other goodbye, and I hung up. I ran my hand through my hair as I paced up and down my room, mulling over what my cousin said. How could I break the ice with Kit? That was the first step. Freaking out and leaving the room after finding out who he was probably didn't help this, but how was I supposed to react? Act like nothing happened and consider it all water under the bridge? Tell him I'd been madly in love with him for years and that seeing him when he had no memory of me made me feel like I'd lost him all over again?

I collapsed on my bed and shut my eyes, praying an answer would come to mind. Instead, sleep overtook me. My dreams switched between pleasant ones of Kit and Miranda to flashbacks of shooting down Yellow 4, of losing Miranda, and coming to the conclusion Kit was dead. I woke up from them almost more exhausted than when I'd gone to bed, although considering I'd only gotten three more hours of shuteye, that wasn't surprising.

Recognizing I wouldn't be able to get any more sleep if I tried, I silently made my way downstairs, hoping the rest of the inhabitants would still be in bed. To my surprise, I found Brian at the kitchen counter, head braced in his hand as he stared into the blackness of his coffee. Despite the turmoil in my mind, I had to know what was wrong with the poor kid. I'd only known him for a couple of days, but I found myself protective of him already.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, sidling over to the coffee pot and pouring myself a cup.

Brian's head jerked upward. "Hey! Yeah, I'm good. Thinking is all. How are you? I know yesterday was-"

"A lot?" I suggested.

"That's putting it mildly."

"It's a lot to process. I'm just trying to sort it all out right now."

"I'm sorry," Brian said, his face crumpling with regret. "I thought Felicity and I had more time to figure it out. I didn't know my dad had managed to-"

"Brian, this isn't your fault. I'm not sure there's much, if anything, you could've said that would've softened the blows I received yesterday. By the sound of it, you figured it out not long before your dad and I met."

"You wouldn't be wrong. We figured it out literally right before he got home."

I thought back to when Brian and Felicity bolted up the stairs minutes before Kit arrived, and an epiphany struck me. "You didn't have a college application to turn in, did you?"

"Ah, no. It was something you said that I finally realized where I might know you from. I was right, for the record."

"What was it?"

"Death favors no one," Brian said. "Dad used to say it all the time during the war."

"That's because it doesn't, although I might have to reevaluate my belief regarding the Banks family," Kit remarked, walking into the kitchen. He flashed me a shy smile. "What are you two doing up? I'm usually the only one awake before seven."

"I couldn't sleep, and neither could Bryn."

"That makes three of us. Brian, did you make the extra-caffeinated coffee?"

"Of course."

Kit nodded in approval and poured himself a cup. "So, where's Felicity?"

"She's still sleeping. We were up late chatting."

"Speak of the devil," I said, watching the person of discussion shuffle into the room. Her hair stuck out in different places, and she had her hoodie sleeves pulled over her fists. She blinked sleepily and, without saying a word, slid onto the barstool next to Brian. He slid his cup of coffee over to her, which she gladly took.

The four of us fell into an awkward silence, and I wanted nothing more than to teleport out of that kitchen to the safety and comfort of my bedroom, but I forced myself to stay. I didn't want to make it worse for Brian, who I could tell still felt guilty for yesterday regardless of my earlier reassurances.

Kit turned to me and said, "Brian was telling me that you were regaling him with your missions. Where did you leave off before I came home?"

"Oh, uh, I'd just finished destroying the Aegir Fleet at Comberth Harbor," I told him, unable to look my friend in the eyes for more than a few seconds unless I wanted to lose the little bit of my mind I had left.

"Are you up to telling us what happens next?" Brian asked, his voice edged with hopefulness.

I hesitated, knowing there were some conversations between Kit and me that I didn't necessarily want him hearing right now in case it scared him off, but I also couldn't turn down Brian. Taking a sip of my coffee to give me a moment to steel my nerves, I replied, "Yeah, let's do it."

______________________________

December 16, 2004...

I groggily woke up from my nap to my phone ringing. I answered it without glancing at the caller ID, knowing fully well who it was. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey, you," Kit replied, sounding much more awake than me. "Were you napping?"

"Yeah. I've been doing a lot of patrols."

"You want me to let you go?"

"No, no, I'd rather talk to you. I have a feeling as the war progresses, we're going to have less and less time to do so. How are you doing?"

"I'm good. I'm- oh, hey, don't touch that. That's hot and deadly."

"I am hot and deadly, but who are you telling that to?"

Lucky snorted. "Not going to disagree with you there, but I'm talking about my gun. We just got done firing some practice rounds, and this little kid who's been hanging around was about to touch the barrel."

"Where exactly is your gun where this kid has such easy access?!" I demanded in alarm.

"It's in my holster, but he's right next to me."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "You sure know how to raise my blood pressure."

"It's a gift," he replied cheekily.

"What's his name?"

"Don't know. He won't speak to any of us, but he plays the harmonica like you wouldn't believe. I've slowly been teaching him the guitar as well."

I smiled to myself at the mental image of Lucky with the little boy. "What song are you teaching him?"

"Naturally 'You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin' because it's my favorite."

"Such a romantic. Is your wingman singing?"

"No, Vixen doesn't sing. Last time she did, babies started crying."

"I'm sure she's not that bad."

A woman's distant voice responded, "Who are you talking to about me?"

"A friend."

"I see, well, don't talk too long. We have a date at the pub with the others, remember?"

A flare of jealousy rose within me, but I pushed it down. I had no right to feel that way when Kit and I weren't only separated geographically but also by war. He could date whoever he wanted, and in my experience, guys went for the geographically desirable girls. I did not fall into that category.

Kit sighed. "I forgot about that."

"I figured. Don't worry, I'll cover for you. I'll see you in a bit. Come on, little tyke. Let's go get some good pub food."

"Was that Vixen?" I asked, keeping my tone as even as possible.

"Yeah. I forgot the rest of us were going to the pub in town for some drinking games and to get our mind off the war, but I'd rather stay here and talk with you as long as possible."

"You're making it sound like we'll never talk again."

"Hey, it's war. You never know what may happen," he said. My heart dropped at the idea of never speaking to Kit after this. I couldn't fathom it. To go from talking or texting daily with my best friend to nothing? No. I wouldn't be able to handle that. "Ember, I didn't- I'm not going to die. I have to see you in person one last time before I do."

"If you die, I'm dragging your ass from hell and then killing you again for breaking the promise," I warned.

"Why do you automatically assume I'm going to hell?!"

"Uh, have you seen our text messages?"

"Okay, yeah, fair point."

"I mean, don't get me started on the jokes we had on the things you could do in a plane and in the bedr-" I stopped short when Miranda popped her head into my room. She mouthed 'briefing,' and I groaned. "I have to go. I'll call you when I get back."

"Be careful. Love you, Em."

"Love you, too, Lucky."

We hung up, and I rolled my eyes at Miranda's knowing smirk. She pursed her lips, then inquired, "So, what exactly was that text conversation?"

"I'll never tell," I replied shortly. "Mostly because I can't believe I wrote it down in the first place, so there's no way in hell I'm verbally repeating it."

"Kill joy."

"Eavesdropper."

The two of us fell silent as we entered the briefing room and took our seats. Whiskey smiled at us, then lowered the lights and cleared his throat. "Your next mission is to attack the solar power generator plants in the Faith Park region. These generators equal nuclear ones in output and provide about 60% of the energy for the Erusians' military industrial complexes. Since they do not require oil or uranium supplies, we cannot stop power production by interdicting their supply lines. This deep strike mission will not only cripple the Erusians' industrial output but also divert attention away from our own imminent invasion plans."

Operation: Black Out

Location: Faith Park

Date: 1640 hours

Time: 12/16/2004

I sighed, ready to tackle the mission but simultaneously wishing I could go back to bed and call Kit. Still, since I couldn't do the latter, I knew the only way it would happen was if I finished the mission as soon as possible.

I hopped into my trusty F-22, now repaired and fully functioning, and instructed I be equipped with PGBs. I had a feeling they'd be more than useful for this mission. With no time to waste, I swiftly launched into the air, Halo Team on my tail. Paul and Murray kept up a steady stream of conversation. Miranda chimed in on occasion. Gary naturally didn't speak a word, and I stayed quiet, too, my mind on Kit's words and the implication they held. The longer this war dragged on, the greater our chances of meeting our match and getting shot down. I at least had great backup with Angel and Halo Team, and Lucky had Vixen, but who else outside of her? What would happen if she got shot down?

"Use the solar panels as markers and proceed due north to the power plant," SkyEye said, breaking my train of thought. I'd been so entrenched in them that I hadn't even noticed we'd entered enemy territory. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. If this mission were to succeed, I couldn't be distracted in any way. I lowered my plane until it fell slightly above the canyon. Angel and Halo Team followed suit. I peered at the ground below. Could I have dove all the way into the ravine and covered my position that way? Sure. Was I going to do anything stupidly dangerous without needing to? No. I wasn't desperate enough.

"Don't be predictable in heading or altitude when they close in," Halo Six, a.k.a. Santa, warned, making me roll my eyes. "Keep your eyes on the radar."

"Kind of hard for them to see us coming if we're flying below their radar," I pointed out casually, hoping my sarcasm didn't slip through.

Apparently, it didn't because the guy continued, "Be calm and give it your best shot when the enemy arrives."

"Here we go, this is the real thing," another guy said. He sounded younger, newer, which prevented me- albeit barely- from making a sarcastic remark. Pretty sure he was Halo Seven, callsign Dragon. Probably because he had a tendency to wake sleeping ones.

Angel made my case when she demanded, "What do you mean this is the real thing? What do you think we've been doing the past six missions?!"

"Use that anger on the incoming enemy planes!"

"Do you think I need anger to do my job properly?"

"Wh- no! That's not-"

"Do you think I'm not doing a good job normally?"

"I didn't-"

"No, no, don't talk. You'll distract me from my anger, which will apparently lower my performance."

"That's not what I meant!" Dragon said exasperatedly. "I noticed you were angry and thought I'd encourage you to utilize that. I'm regretting my words now."

Angel flew alongside me as I lifted into the air to meet the enemies head-on. She replied, "You're a newbie. I'll let it slide. But try not to insult your superiors. They won't all be as nice as me."

"That was you being nice about it?"

"You want me to be a bigger bitch?"

"No, ma'am," he responded immediately.

"That's what I thought."

Barely maintaining an even tone, I said, "Now, Dragon, it's time you stopped your yammering and started treating this mission like it's the real thing."

Angel burst out laughing. Dragon, smartly, remained silent, although I could've sworn I heard him grumble a few curse words. Ignoring them, I set my sights on the F-16s rapidly closing in. Something about them unnerved me; they flew too casually for fighters witnessing a hoard of incoming enemies. What did they have up their sleeve?

"Guys, let's work fast," I ordered, hoping no one would ask why I chose now to give such a command. "Does anyone have eyes on the target?"

"No, I don't see anything..." Halo Five, a.k.a. Sharkbite, replied, cruising ahead with Halo Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, and Ten, respectively Santa, Dragon, Joker, Poker, and Guinness. A few more seconds passed before he exclaimed, "There!"

"Commence attack. The rest of Halo team and I will take care of these fighters, and then we'll join you. Angel, you go left, I go right?"

"Like you even needed to say it," she said, veering to take on her fighter. I chose to go head-on, rolling to make it difficult for them to get a lock on me. It made it challenging for me as well, but I managed and ended up using my guns as a backup once I fired off the projectile. My shot narrowly hit the target.

Without slowing down or righting myself up, I continued on, zeroing in on the next cluster of fighters in the distance. Angel and her Halo members followed suit while AWACS informed, "Solar power generator plant at vector 350, 12 miles."

"Halo Five, how far are you from it?" I queried, locking onto a bandit.

"Six miles and rapidly closing in," he replied.

"Ember, my boys and I got these fighters," Angel remarked. "How about you help the other Halo members with the generators? You're antsy about it, and I feel like you should be taking that out on the target."

Normally, I wouldn't appreciate Angel trying to give me orders, but today was different. My gut told me this would be more complex than our briefing had led us to believe, and I wanted to ensure we at least destroyed as much of the target as possible. Without any argument, I dove to the ground and zipped above the barren land to catch up with the other half of Halo team. Reaching breakneck speeds, I swiftly closed in on them and the first cluster of solar panels. At the sight, I internally groaned. I knew these would be spread out, but it still disheartened me when I realized how far apart they were and with the invisible time limit I suspected we had outside of the one our superiors had given us. Not to mention, we needed to destroy these solar panels to remove power from the generator before we attacked it. I had to be careful with my ammo...

No time to lose. I thought, circling the first cluster of solar panels so that I lined up vertically with them. I locked on to the first one, fired, targeted the second, switched to guns, and took out the two at the end of the row. Easy enough, but with how many of these remained, this would be a tedious task.

"That glow up ahead is our target, the power plant," Santa observed, zipping above me to fire at the flak guns spitting out projectiles at us and the radar tracking us.

I circled around to attack the next solar panels. "We're making quick work of these, so we should be able to get there quickly, but we still have a lot left. Otherwise, I'd send some of you ahead to report on what it looks like in person. Let's line up and take a row of solar panels. The more organized we are with these attacks, the faster this will go."

"Roger that." Halo team fell in behind me and then fanned out into a line, locking onto the solar panels in front of us. We swept over them, destroying as many as we possibly could in one go. As we pulled away and positioned ourselves for another run, I glanced at the radar to see what damage we'd done. Although I could see some targets had disappeared, there were still so many.

Too many.

"Mobius One and Halo Team preparing for our second run. Firing in three... two... one... now!" Missiles, bombs, and gunfire erupted from our planes, strafing the solar panels in a deadly fashion. On radar, it barely looked like we'd made a dent, but something was better than nothing. Wondering how Miranda and her team were faring, I asked, "Angel, how are guys holding up?"

"We're down to our last fighter over here. We'll be there shortly to provide air cover for you and- let me get a lock on you bitch!" Angel burst in frustration.

I waited a few seconds before speaking. "All good?"

"Yeah, I got them," she said calmly, a stark contrast from her previous tone mere moments ago. "See you shortly."

"See you soon. Halo Team, prepare for another run. Two or three more of these should do the trick, and then we can move on."

"Thank God. I'm getting tired of these damn things," Joker muttered in annoyance.

As much as I agreed, I kept quiet, eyeing the sky for anything suspicious. Other than the small amount of enemy fighters, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. Of course, that made me wonder why there were so few enemies. Was the place just understaffed? Or was it protected by something else? Something we couldn't see?

In the distance, I could see Angel and the rest of Halo Team approaching at supersonic speeds. I didn't need to ask to understand they were mirroring our plan. Maybe we could finish this area off in this next run.

Sharkbite began the countdown for firing, and on cue, we let loose our fury. By the time Angel and team arrived, they were finishing off the straggling targets. We let them, and I turned my attention to the generator: pillboxes, SAMs, control rooms, and more covered the ground. Outside of the few anti-aircraft artillery and the lingering enemy fighters, there wasn't much protection for the facility. Was no one else noticing this? I couldn't keep my concern in any longer.

"Does anyone think it's strange that there's hardly any resistance to our arrival?" I inquired, circling the area to assess the situation and choose my first target. I went for a pillbox nearby. "I mean, compared to a lot of our other missions, the lack of enemy resistance is unsettling."

"You're not the only one," Angel replied, joining me and the rest of her team. "I thought I was going crazy."

"Call me paranoid, but the Eruseans have something up their sleeves. Let's finish this fast and get out of here. I don't like fighting against an unknown enemy, let alone one with an invisible timer. It's going to strike, but I'm not sure when. All I know is I don't want any of us to be here when it does."

"You're being paranoid," Guinness said dismissively. "You need a break from all this."

"Yeah, well, this is what happens when you do the heavy lifting. Not that you would know anything about that. Do you want to remind me what the difference is between how many enemies I've taken out versus you?"

"She's got you there, Guinness," Angel chimed in.

"She's been on more missions than me. If we did it based solely on the missions we both-"

"She'd still kick your ass. As she's doing now. While you've been defending yourself, Ember has taken out a pillbox, a SAM, and a control room. What do you have to say for yourself? And I don't want you to respond. It was a rhetorical question. I want you to put your money where your mouth is and take out some enemies!"

I bit back a snicker. I could always count on Angel to put her team in their place when they got too big for their britches or tried to. Of the squadron, she and I had the most experience without having to even combine it. It wasn't by much, maybe only a year at most, but it counted, and we'd been on more missions than anyone else here.

As I lifted into the sky, prepping to loop up and over, my missile alert went off. I swore and snapped my head around, trying to find where my attacker resided. They were hot on my trail, and although they hadn't fired yet, they were about to. I couldn't let that happen. Without thinking, I slammed on the brakes, going into a Cobra maneuver. The second the bandit passed underneath me, I leveled out and locked on, firing a barrage of gunfire at them. Within seconds, they were nothing but a fireball plummeting to the ground.

"Mobius shot one down!" Poker exclaimed cheerfully.

I chuckled. "Hey, at least we know my alert system is working again."

"We'll add the kill to your list."

"The ever-growing one. Hey, Guinness, what are you at?" Angel asked with mock innocence.

"If you weren't my squadron leader-"

"I know, you'd tell me to shut up. But I am your squadron leader, so you don't get to."

While they bickered, I scanned the surrounding area. Seeing a handful of enemy fighters swarming overhead, I made the decision to go after them, hoping it wouldn't come to bite me in the ass afterward. "Halo Team, let's get rid of these fighters. The ground targets won't take us long to destroy, but if we have to keep evading these bandits, it'll take us longer."

"Think we have time?" Angel queried, sounding genuinely concerned without being argumentative.

"I think so." It sounded better than 'I hope so,' but not by much. "Let's corral them into an area and circle them. Halo Team, I'll leave that to you. Angel and I will block them from above and below, respectively."

I watched Halo Team widen their circle and start rounding up the enemy fighters, luring them to our location until they were all where we wanted them to be. Angel attacked from above, sending missiles and bullets at anyone who crossed her path. The ones who escaped either tried to fly out, getting blocked by Halo Team, or down to the ground, where they were stopped by me. Either way, they had no way of escaping, and we systematically took them out one by one with only minor scrapes and hits on our side, although Angel and I remained unscathed.

"Last enemy fighter destroyed," Angel confirmed merrily. "Mobius, I'll give you the honor of taking out the final target since you came up with that ingenious method of getting rid of those Eruseans."

"Don't mind if I do." Going into a vertical plunge directly above the last target, I locked on with a PGB and pulled away before I witnessed it strike. I didn't need to anyway. I knew it would, and the disappearance of its blip on the radar confirmed my suspicion.

"We did it!" Poker cheered, rolling her plane in celebration.

"Looks like you were just being paranoid, Mobius," Guinness said. I could hear the smug undertone. Considering it was the only thing he had on me, I planned on letting it slide until-

"Mission update! Attention all aircraft-" AWACS interrupted- "incoming from Stonehenge confirmed on radar. Drop below two thousand feet and head south to exit combat area.

"You want to say that again, Guinness?" I griped, drastically dropping my plane in altitude. Even skimming the ground, I still remained too high in elevation. I had to find the canyon. It was my only hope.

"Two thousand feet? What do they expect us to do? Go underground?" Dragon demanded.

"Head toward the ravine and terrain mask. Use the crevasses. Get low and stay low," Angel commanded sharply. She flew closely behind me, having already figured out my idea before I could even voice it. It's one of the reasons we worked so well together.

"What are you talking about? It's suicide to fly into that ravine!" Guinness argued, continuing to fly at a dangerously exposed altitude.

"4 rounds," AWACS warned. "ETA in fifteen seconds."

Shit! Shit! Shit! I could see the ravine in the distance, and even going flat out, I wasn't sure I'd make it in time before Stonehenge struck. There was no guarantee that the monstrosity would strike me down if I didn't reach the canyon before the attack, but I also really didn't want to find out. After all, death favored no one.

"It's suicide to fly above the ravine, too, and I'd rather take my chances flying below than in the path of Stonehenge," Sharkbite snapped. "So stop being a baby and get below two thousand feet!"

AWACS started counting down from five, and just as he reached two, I dipped into the ravine and below the recommended threshold. I allowed a small amount of relief to flood through me, but I realized I still had to fly through this narrow canyon to escape and hope that Stonehenge couldn't attack me down here.

"Impact!" AWACS announced right as the world around me seemed to shake from an explosion I couldn't see. I tried to ignore it, putting all my focus on cruising at a high rate of speed through this ravine, where the cliffsides zipped past my canopy dangerously close. This was insanity...

"Oh, shit! I'm hit! I'm hit!" Guinness shouted frantically. I could hear his alarms blaring in the background, and my heart sank. It's not like I was close with him, but he was an ally and a family to return to. I prayed he survived if he ejected.

"Halo Ten was shot down!" Sharkbite confirmed grimly.

"Everyone who survived that attack, if you're not in the ravine already, you better get your ass down here now unless you want to die up there!" Angel barked, sounding furious, although it was more out of fear of losing more wingmen than being angry with her team.

"Damn it, how many did we lose?" Joker asked.

"I think just Guinness, but my plane is heavily damaged," Dragon replied dismally. "If I take another hit, I'm going down."

"If you survive this, I'll buy you a drink for any trauma this mission has caused," Sharkbite said. "Stay down in the ravine. You should be fine if-"

AWACS interrupted him. "Another wave from Stonehenge detected. "Ten seconds to impact."

"Oh fu-" Joker's transmission cut off with static. Looking at my radar, I noticed his plane had disappeared. My heart sank into my stomach. That could only mean one thing...

"Halo Eight crashed!" Sharkbite informed sadly. None of us had any time to mourn, though, because we were still fighting for our lives, flying through the ravine and trying to avoid the attacks from above and from crashing into cliffs. AWACS counted down again, and for a second time, the world trembled around me. Whether it was the earth or my plane shaking, I couldn't tell, but it rattled me either way.

"What power!" Poker exclaimed in awe. She had every right to because, as much as I hated to admit it, the Eruseans had a superweapon on their side. It'd take one hell of a pilot to take it out...

"Murray, get your ass back down into this canyon!" Angel commanded.

"Stay terrain masked inside the ravine and keep low!" Sharkbite added, sounding like a broken record with how many times he'd said it. "It'll be death outside this ravine."

"I'm trying! But it was either that or crashing into a cliff," Paul replied shortly. His tone surprised me because he never had a temper, but I attributed it to the stress of our current situation. "I'm back with you guys. I was only above two thousand feet for a couple seconds."

"A couple seconds could be all it takes. We've already lost Joker and Guinness. We don't want to lose you too," I said calmly, hoping that if everyone heard my cool demeanor, it would ease their nerves. Angel and I were leaders, and it was our job to take care of our team. Although I was a solo pilot, they were my allies and friends, not necessarily in that order. I had to protect them, too, both from physical and mental enemies.

"How much further?" Poker inquired.

"Exiting combat area. Maintain current course and altitude to RTB," AWACS responded. Unless I was mistaken, I heard relief in his voice. I felt my own relief when the ravine widened, allowing us some much-needed breathing room. Of course, it was short-lived when AWACS added, "Another wave from Stonehenge detected."

"Enemy aircraft up ahead," Angel warned. "Get ready. Looks like they're avoiding their own attacks as well."

"I'm armed and ready," I said, slowing down and hugging the wall of the ravine so I wouldn't be directly in front of the enemy when I rounded the corner. When I did, a missile streaked past my canopy, like the Erusean had been expecting me. I fired back in retaliation, and unlike them, my missile hit.

Angel swore when the missile flew past her. "Fuck! Ember, how did you miss that?"

"Because they have shit aim, and I have dumb luck, apparently." I could see the return line rapidly approaching, and I'd never been so happy to see it in my life. I crossed it right before Stonehenge's third attack went off, but unfortunately, not all of us made it. When Dragon lifted above the ravine, it was before the return line and during Stonehenge's attack. His already damaged plane sustained more abuse, and down he went.

"We've lost Dragon!" Sharkbite said in dismay. "I repeat, we've lost Dragon. I can't tell if he ejected or not."

Angel sighed. "Damn it!"

Mission Accomplished

"We'll send a rescue crew later when it's safe to try and recover him," AWACS declared tiredly. "All remaining planes, return to base."

A heavy silence hung over myself and Halo Team on the return trip. Our only saving grace during Stonehenge's attacks had been that the Yellows didn't appear. Had they been on our tails, I had no doubt most of us, if not all, would've been annihilated. On the way back, Whiskey conducted a debriefing. He or some other superior must've recognized none of us were in any shape to attend one when we landed.

"The mission succeeded, but the combat losses due to Stonehenge were higher than expected. Victory will elude us until it is eliminated," Whiskey said.

Dragon. Guinness. Joker. I hadn't been close to any of them by any means, but they were still my allies, and they all had families waiting for them back home. Guinness and Joker were undoubtedly lost, but I held onto the hope, as slim as it was, that Dragon remained alive. None of us could confirm or deny if he'd ejected, so there was a chance he survived. We wouldn't find out for a while if that was the case, though.

Upon return to base, Halo Team and I quietly disembarked from our planes. I checked on them to see if they needed anything from me, but they politely declined and shuffled off to commiserate together. Angel went with them, so I trudged off to my room alone. I moved about robotically, showering, drying my hair, and climbing into bed. The deaths of my comrades got to me more than I cared to admit. They served as a reminder that none of us were safe, no matter our experience or backup. I couldn't do anything to protect them from their fate, and that's what I hated the most.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed the only person I knew who could help get rid of this guilt I felt. I waited with shut eyes while the phone rang and rang until finally-

"Hey!" Lucky chirped, his voice hard to hear over the chatter in the background. "Hang on, let me step outside so I can hear better."

"No problem," I replied, waiting patiently for him to come back.

"All right, that's better. You okay?"

"Not really. I lost three wingmen in the mission. I've lost some before, but these were people I knew relatively well, even if I wasn't close to them. I don't know; it's just getting to me, and you always manage to cheer me up."

"I'm sorry, Bryn. It's never easy to lose a wingman, regardless of how well you knew them," Kit said empathetically.

"Yeah..."

A quiet settled between us, only broken when Kit said softly, "What else is on your mind?"

I sighed, hating how well he could read me. "It reminded me how easily it could've been me or you that got hit. Neither of us knows how long this war is going to drag on, and the longer it does, the more our chances increase of getting shot down. Or worse."

"I've been thinking about that too... Stonehenge is a beast, and I don't envy you having to face it because I'm not sure if you have or not already, but I know you will at some point, and that terrifies me."

I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth, so I went a different route. "Do we have anything that scares you?"

"I'll never admit this to my crew, but yeah. I don't say this without reason when I say I'm one of the best pilots in the Erusean Air Force, so not much scares me, but you guys have a pilot that shows a lot of potential to beat our best fighters, including me. Whoever they are, they could change the tide of the war in ISAF's favor. That being said, while I'm scared of them, part of me looks forward to it because whatever the outcome, if they shoot me down, it'll be a worthy battle, and I'll have been bested by a formidable foe, not these guys you keep sending to us."

I chuckled. "Are you calling the ISAF fighters weak?"

"I'm saying they're not as good as the Eruseans! At least, not yet. Except for you. I don't know how you fly, but I'm sure you're phenomenal."

"Nice save," I said drolly. "Listen, I'll let you go so you can hang out with your buddies. It sounded like you were at the bar or something with them."

"You're more important. I talk to them every day. You-you're different. When this is all over, no matter who wins, we're going to meet up. If I'm still at my current location, you can meet the kid who's been following us. He doesn't say anything, not to us at least, only shakes his head yes or no, but he's super sweet all the same. I'm trying to figure out where his guardian is. I overheard the barkeeper's daughter asking the kid where his uncle was, and he said he didn't know. I'd be more worried if I didn't know that the barkeeper was letting him stay with them at night. Otherwise, I'd insist he stay with us. I don't like the idea of this poor kid having nowhere to go, especially because of the idea we might be the reason he doesn't have a guardian."

"He doesn't speak to anyone?"

"Only the barkeeper's daughter. She talks to us a little bit, but mainly to the boy. She's still wary of us. I don't blame her. To them, we're the aggressors, which I can understand."

"Lucky! When are you going to get off the phone with your girlfriend and rejoin us?" A guy shouted from the distance.

"Get your ass back in there, Mickey Mouse," Kit snapped airily. "I'll return when I'm ready."

"Your girlfriend?" I mused, unable to help the smile on my face.

"It's the only answer I could get them to accept for me bailing on the pool game my team and I were winning."

"Well, you don't want to keep them hanging. I'll let you go. We can talk later."

"I'm counting on it. I love you, Bryn."

"I love you too, Kit. Have fun." We hung up, and I closed my eyes. Although grief still weighed heavily upon me, a warmth had flooded my veins at Kit's words and voice. His callsign might've been Lucky, but I was the lucky one because I had him as a friend. I only prayed we both made it through this.

______________________________

Present day...

"So, you're the one that destroyed that facility," Kit said, leaning forward on the counter. To my surprise, he had a slight smile on his face. "It was always rumored the Ribbon Fighter had led that charge, but we could never confirm it. Looks like Mickey owes me a hundred bucks."

I tilted my head in confusion. "You remember that?"

"I remember enough. My memory has mostly come back. It's only bits and pieces that haven't fully returned, but I'm hoping you being here will change that."

"I do too. Has any-" My ringing phone interrupted my sentence. Noticing the name, I excused myself and stepped outside into the now-calm weather. Although chilly, I'd much rather stand in the freezing cold than possibly ask a question that would give me an answer I wouldn't like. Picking up, I enthusiastically greeted, "Blaze! What's up?"

My cousin responded with equal enthusiasm. "Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you. I wanted to check in on you after last night. You rightfully seemed perturbed."

"You're not wrong. I'm doing better this morning, but it still feels weird." I started pacing the deck, hoping the movement would warm me up. The last thing I wanted to do was enter the Galbraith household while talking about one of its members. "I'm sorry again for calling you so late last night. I was panicked and-"

"You don't need to explain. I get it. More than anyone. We've both had people return from the dead on us, and it's not easy to comprehend, especially when they don't remember you or they hide their presence from you."

I chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah... you know, you never did tell me what happened between you and Chopper when he returned."

"We should get coffee one day and catch up."

"Absolutely. Do you want to fly up to Usea, or should I fly down to Osea? Actually, don't answer that. I'm flying down to Osea because I want to meet my little cousins."

"Darn, and here I already bought my ticket to Usea to come see you."

"What?!" I exclaimed, stopping my pacing.

Blaze laughed. "Kidding. I don't even know where you are on the continent. Actually, that's a good question. Where are you?"

"San Salvacion. On the outskirts of town, but it's still a small place, so when I say the outskirts, it's only a ten-minute walk away from the center of town."

"Oh, that is a small." Blaze continued talking, but I lost track of what she said when I felt a jacket placed on my shoulders. Turning around, I found Kit behind me, smiling shyly at me. I shot him a grateful one in return before he shuffled back into the house. "Bryn? You there?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Sorry. Kit brought out a coat for me."

"Isn't it freezing there right now?"

"Yes, it is."

"And you chose to step outside into the cold rather than go to your bedroom for privacy?"

"Also yes."

"Sounds like something our family would do," Blaze said matter-of-factly. "Listen, I'll let you go, but call any time, no matter if it's day or night. I'm here for you, okay? And if you need me to fly up there-"

"As much as I'd love to have you here for moral support, you should stay in Osea. Be with your kids. You just got back to them."

"All right... but just say the word, and I'll be there. I'd send Cipher or Talisman, but I'm not sure they'd wholly understand what you're going through."

"No, I don't think they would. I'll call you later. Give my love to the family." We hung up, and almost immediately after, the back door opened, and Mobius flew out onto the deck and down the stairs to the yard. Kit followed sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I was waiting for your phone call to be over before letting him out in case he decided to bark at something we couldn't see and interrupt your conversation."

"Oh, it's fine. He wouldn't be a true guard dog if he didn't bark at invisible things."

Kit chuckled. "We also have to come outside with him because he has a tendency to sometimes get over the fence. We don't know how he does it. I swear he knows we put cameras out here to try and catch him doing it because it's never happened since then."

"Smart dog. By the way, thanks for bringing me a jacket. I completely forgot to grab one."

"I figured by the way you hustled out of there. Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah, it was my cousin calling to say hi. That's all. I'm going to head in because-" I glanced down at my sock-covered feet- "I also forgot shoes, and while the cold may not bother me most of the time, even I have my limits. I'll see you inside."

I hastily entered the house. As much as I wanted to help Kit, I still found myself ridiculously nervous around him. I wasn't ready to be alone with him. Not yet. Not even when Brian and Felicity were a few dozen feet away.

Speaking of them, they had disappeared upstairs, judging by the footsteps above me. Hopefully, they weren't discovering any other possible bombshells to drop on me or Kit. I decided it best to leave them to their own devices and sat at the bar. I slid Brian's letter over to me, which had made the kitchen counter its permanent home. I skimmed it until I picked up where I left off. I settled into the chair and read his impeccably neat handwriting:

At some point, I realized my uncle, my would-be guardian, had vanished. Maybe the secret police dragged him off for some drunken comment he made; maybe he chose to disappear. I didn't have anyone to turn to, so I found myself living as if I were a member of the Yellow Squadron.

Everyone in town scorned the barkeep for doing business with the enemy. In reality, he and his family were members of the Resistance, gathering up intelligence information from enemy customers. His daughter protected me, but that was only because of my tender age.

The barkeep and his family were the real heroes, while I, on the other hand, found a haven among the enemy.

"I always felt guilty that I hung out with the Yellows when they were the enemy," Brian admitted quietly from the entryway. He stood by himself. Felicity must've still remained upstairs.

"You were a little kid trying to survive. There's nothing to feel guilty about," I assured him, unable to imagine being in his shoes during the war. I couldn't fathom being a kid with no parents or guardians navigating a war-torn town that the enemy had overtaken. "How did you know I was at that part of the letter?"

Brian rubbed the back of his neck while he approached and sat beside me. "I can't count how many times I rewrote that letter, but I remember painstakingly choosing every single word. I memorized that entire letter. Word for word. I know where you left off on it, so I assumed you'd be at the part of me basically joining the Yellows."

"That's... really impressive that you can do that."

"Almost as impressive as you being able to remember all the stuff you can about your missions."

"That stuff gets ingrained in your brain..."

"Hey, uh, I know this all difficult for you to talk about because I know you lost a lot of people close to you, but now that my dad's back, I can't... I'm sure it's making it all the worse. What I'm trying to say is-" Brian wrung his hands together- "if you want to go, you can. I don't- I don't want you feeling obligated to stay and finish your story."

I shrugged. "We're practically halfway through it. Might as well finish it. Besides, if there's a possibility that it could help your dad gain his memory back, it's worth it, no matter any pain it causes me."

"All right... but if it gets to be too much-"

"I'll let you know. When your dad and Felicity return, we'll pick up where we left off. Sound like a plan?"

Brian nodded eagerly, a grin spreading across his face. I offered a smile in return, but part of me wondered how I'd get through this. I had yet to speak about this to anyone since it happened except for Blaze, Cipher, and Talisman, and even then, it was sugar-coated versions. I hadn't gone into detail like I was now. When I would inevitably reach the two cataclysmic deaths for me, I had no idea how I'd handle voicing it aloud. For all I knew, it would send me into a panic attack like the days they happened.

Still, I had already come this far, and I stood by what I said. No matter how challenging this ended up being for me, if it helped Kit, then my wellbeing be damned.