Girls' Frontline: Fighter's Honor

Reprisal II

Whatever god existed out there must have been feeling merciful after throwing the pilots and dolls into the frying pan as the return trip back to the temporary base of operations went without incident, not that anyone was complaining.

Maven took a bit slow when getting out of the van along with everyone else, his body feeling a tad bit sore after getting thrown around like a ragdoll earlier. It was surprising that he wasn't feeling worse for wear, but he had a feeling the pain would proper kick in after a day or two.

Not looking forward to that—

His train of thought was interrupted as his communicator suddenly started going off, he didn't even have to do anything for the call to go through.

"Fuckin—finally works now. Maven, please tell me you still aren't out." Gentiane's voice came through, audibly stressed and he could make out gunfire in the background.

"Negative, shit hit the fan bad and we had SV-98 and Nova bail us out." Maven succinctly replied, giving only what was necessary,

Gentiane could only sigh in exasperation. "I take it you also had Paradeus crash your outing."

"Para who—oh." She probably meant the gentlemen in fancy white armor led by emo girls who never matured past high school. "Yes we did, also had a run in with what I assume is a ringleader, was wearing black and silver and talked funny."

"Black and silver—" Gentiane's eyes shot wide open despite her creeping fatigue. "Maven, you are fucking lucky to be alive right now."

Oh he was well aware of that, letting his mouth run unrestrained for once actually saved him, and also probably marked himself for death should he ever encounter Mercurows again but that only applied to a boots on the ground scenario.

"Regardless, you know what I'm dealing with, just in bigger numbers. How long will it take to get air support assuming you're still combat viable?"

Huh, looks like she wouldn't have asked him to get up in the air should he have been actually banged up.

"Uhh we need to rearm weapons and get into gear but everything else is good to go, shouldn't be longer than about twenty minutes at most." Maven answered. "Anything you need in specific?"

"Precision explosives." Gentiane didn't take a second to think. "A lot of them, grunts and the other personnel are manageable but they have heavily armored mechs and tanks with force fields."

Ahh he already forgot he had a run in with the big fuck-off mech with its grenade bukkake, a blissful existence that briefly was.

"Understood, we'll be there ASAP, hold out until then." Maven replied.

"Will do, out." Gentiane cut the call.

He foresaw this happening so Maven wasn't surprised at having to be sent up into the air. But the day had already felt long enough on the way back. Hopefully once this mess was cleaned up, the next couple of days would be more laid back.

"Well I called it." Maven stated dryly before turning to SV-98 and Nova. "Load up the jet with six AMRAAMs and two sidewinders on the wings, and then fit as many laser guided bombs as you can with the remaining space."

Neither Maven nor Expulse were big fans of laser guidance as a means of delivering bombs, especially when they were liable to receive return fire from either AA or SAMs—or a twat with a stinger or something similar. It was much more preferable to lob a JDAM from a distance and be done with it, but odds were that there were going to be moving targets which disqualified the use of JDAMs and dumb bombs were susceptible to being blown of course by wind or other very funny environmental factors.