RMS Mainz, Bayern-class Battlecarrier. In one of the alert quarters for pilots aboard the heavily armed carrier, a group of aviators can be seen playing a card game to pass the time. These men and a singular woman make up the renowned Knight Squadron of the 1st Carrier Strike Group, having established themselves as the best jump-jet pilots out there. Currently, the four men and a singular lady are playing the friendship-destroying game that is UNO.

Knight 3, a burly man with a goatee slaps a pair of +4 cards on the table. His face sports a mocking grin as he looks at Knight 4, the female member of the squad. "Oh, you're in trouble now, sister."

Knight 4, a girl with bob-cut hair and sporting a tomboyish look with her flight jacket strapped on her hip, takes a deep scrutinizing look at Knight 3. She has two cards left, and she is this close to a UNO, getting a +8 will set her back hard, quite possibly costing her the game. Yet, she is not out of the fight and Knight 3 has made a foolish move on his part.

"No, you." Knight 4 pulls out a red reverse card before slamming it on the floor, shouting. "UNO~!"

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!" Understandably, Knight 3 cursed since his move backfired splendidly. He thought that since Knight 4 already used a reverse card earlier, he should be safe. Apparently, her luck is just that good, and now he has to pick eight additional cards from the deck with a grimace. Knight 3 will have to kiss this month's deserts goodbye at this rate.

Knight 4 smirks at her squadmate's misfortune. "You fucked around and found out darling~!" The woman mocked the man with her sarcastic flirt, causing Knight 3 to slump his shoulders in defeat.

Knight 5, the tallest and fittest of the group, pats his friend in consolidation. "Don't worry pal, you're not the only one getting your ass handed to you by Heddie. Good old Hellington over here is holding over thirty cards and counting."

Knight 5 motions to the vice leader of the squad, Knight 2. Unfortunately for the second-in-command, he is holding up a ridiculous amount of cards with a deadpan look and a hand on his knee. If Knight 3 still at least has a chance to retaliate, Knight 2 may as well just shoot himself out of his misery. The leader of the squad, Knight 1 callsign Toyjet, laughs while lying down on one of the bunk beds, reading a book while spectating the ongoing match. The game has been going on for some time and he takes joy in the fact that some of them will be walking away, battered and bruised, without any desert in the cantina for the rest of the month. Praise be the Mother Goddess that Knight 1 did not participate in this particular kind of battle.

Unfortunately or fortunately for some of them, the game is to be interrupted by an alarm. The 1MC, the shipwide public address circuits on Reichsmarine vessels, sounds a flight quarters klaxon. The interruption jolts Knight Squadron from their game, and nearly immediately their training and instinct kicks in even before the announcer starts speaking.

"Flight Quarters! Flight Quarters! Set condition 1-alpha for flight operations! Set condition 1-alpha for hoisting and lowering of boats, port boat davit! The smoking lamp is out aft of frame 1-2-niner; all personnel not involved in flight operations stay forward of frame 1-2-niner! All personnel remove soft hats and refrain from throwing FOD material over the side! Knight Squadron is to prep for immediate sortie."

Before the announcement can even finish calling out to their squad, Knight Squadron is already swiftly underway to their aircraft. Even if they aren't the ones on alert today, they would still abandon their prior game just to figure out what the situation is all about. Having been in this situation many times already, the squadron takes less than two minutes to start boarding their Harriers. As alert pilots or emergency sortie pilots, their Harriers are already parked on the deck with full tanks of liquid mana. They need only wait for the navy bees to mount the armament loadout that is required for the sortie at hand. While waiting, they're briefed by the Mainz's ATC.

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"Knight Squadron, there's a situation developing in Warsaw. One of our humanitarian trains has stumbled upon something shady that the new Polanian government has been hiding. The train is also carrying a group of Rusviet VIPs, with them being part of an investigation group away from the train itself. They're now facing the risk of being eliminated and silenced by the Polanian military forces. High Command has ordered immediate CAS from the 1st Carrier Strike Group and Rigel Squadron is already airborne and underway. Your mission as the second wave is to escort AWACS Long Caster deep into Polanian airspace. Once you get to Warsaw, remain on standby as Long Caster will be dolling out CAS missions if they see fit. Your loadout is a minor AA and a heavy PGM-focused one, with strict orders to limit civilian casualties. However, if the situation progresses in a worse direction, you're given the clear to ignore the Incognito Directive and eliminate all hostiles to the train and the VIPs with prejudice and without pulling any punches. Are we clear?"

"Crystal!" Replied the members of Knight Squadron, right as the sea bees finished installing their ordinances. The loadout for the day consists of JAGM-MR missiles, DAGR rocket pods, JSOW bombs, and Iris AA-SMR missiles.

Toyjet then goes on to say. "Knight 1 here, perform pre-flight check."

"Knight 2, all green." Hellington said, followed by the rest of Knight Squadron.

"Knight 3, green across the board."

"Knight 4 is green and mean."

"Knight 5, good to go."

"Knight 1 to Mainz ATC, requesting permission to take off." Toyjet spoke to the ATC.

"Knight Squadron, you're cleared for takeoff. Bring our boys back home for us." The launch signal is given to the squadron.

"Wilco. Knight 1, taking off." Due to the pressing nature of an alert sortie, there's no time for pleasantry so Knight 1 just hit the gas.

The four nozzles of his Harrier allow the jump-jet to lift off after a short taxi. Now that Knight 1 is away, the rest of his squadron also takes off one by one. Once in the air in its entirety, Knight Squadron forms an escort formation around the radar blip belonging to an EFi-22, callsign Long Caster.

"This is AWACS Long Caster," Said the familiar aerial controller aboard the AWACS Osprey. "Good to see you boys, and girl, on station once again. This is an emergency scramble, and time is of the essence. As such, we're gonna kick the Osprey into full speed so make sure to keep up and in formation."

Toyjet's flight buddy, Hellington, snickers at the AWACS' words. "Dude, you're in a prop plane, the Harriers can still outpace you."

Long Caster cheekily replies. "A turboprop can still outmaneuver your jump-jet if you aren't being careful. Now if you have any questions, save it for when we're at full throttle. I still need to finish my hotdog before it goes cold."

Knight 4 audibly balks at that. "Caster, it's not even 2:30 in the afternoon yet."

Knight 5 chimes in. "Brother, how come you're always eating something when we fly with you? Where do you even store all your food on that plane?"

"Trade secret, my boy. And my job as a controller requires me to always have a source of sugar and protein on hand."

Toyjet smirks at their banter but opts not to join in. Rather, the man takes the opportunity to peruse the data link established with Long Caster for operation details. On paper, Rigel Squadron should be more than enough to squash any hostile ground elements. Still, it's better to be safe than sorry and figure out what Knight Squadron is heading into. Befitting of their squadron name, the Knights have been unblemished on their record, and they should keep that streak rolling. To do that, one can never be too prepared for the unknown.