Trigger Quest: Fly Like a Maniac and Splash Bandits (Ace Combat 7 Peggy Sue)

Well, this was awkward. You couldn't really do anything to alleviate the tension – the mental options you went through were all unfeasible. So, as Wiseman always told you, "Break off when you can't handle a fight. Living to fight another day is how we do it here in the LRSSG," you decided to run. Yeah. You could deal with that awkwardness later.

You mumble a "getting coffee" before shuffling away from the table.

Behind you, you can hear Brownie asking in befuddlement, "What the hell just happened?"

Well. Not the best way to start the day or to meet Golem Squadron.

---

A few minutes later, you return from the coffee machine, a lukewarm cup of cheap OADF sludge in a disposable paper cup in your hand. You've also brought back a second cup – it would do as ample apology to Brownie for abruptly fucking off in your first conversation (though, you wonder, if the swill the OADF handed out to its pilots would be taken as an insult instead), and if Brownie didn't want it, well, more coffee for you. You would be fighting later, after all.

You return to your bench and take a swig of the coffee and instantly regret it, face srunching up in disgust. The food at Fort Grays wasn't all that bad compared to the stale MREs at the 444th​, but the coffee was still as godawful as you remembered.

"Welcome back, rookie," Clown greeted, sipping from his canteen of water, "And would ya look at that? The nugget has tasted Fort Grays' coffee for the first time." He leans forward in his seat with a smirk. "D'you like it?"

"Could be better," you grunt, wiping the coffee stains from your mouth on your sleeve.

Clown's eyebrows rise. "First person to be able to tolerate the shit at Fort Grays. Looks like we got a good pilot, Knocker."

Knocker rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, Clown. 'Fort Grays' coffee is shit and the only people who drink it are masochists and aces.' We've all heard this joke before." He sniffs at your drink, face curling into an unappreciative scowl. "Still, you make a point – what do they put in that stuff? Paint thinner?"

Brownie shrugs. "Rumour has it that the base commander shits in the coffee filter before reveille. Tastes about the same, too." She eyes you with squinted eyes as you nudge one of the cups towards her. "Sorry for going off earlier," you say before she can start, "But it was getting awkward and I wanted to defuse the situation a little."

She keeps squinting at you, looking less like a young pilot of the OADF and more like an annoyed schoolteacher. You feel like you're in high school again, and about to be scolded.

She pinches her nose and sighs. "Firstly, there's no need to apologise; secondly, if you wanted to do so, you shouldn't have given me coffee. As you can tell, the stuff we have at base is…substandard." A twitch passes over her face as she says that last word. Past trauma, maybe?

"I hear it's leftover stuff from the Belkan War," Clown chips in. "Brass wanted to cut costs with feeding us, so they keep givin' us the old stuff."

"Yeah, yeah," Knocker waves him off. "So, a better apology would've been – God, you're still drinking that?!" You look at him across the rim of your cup, feeling the coffee trickle down your throat, and nod slightly.

"Christ," Knocker looks at you with something resembling pity or disgust, then continues, "Well, after that I don't remember what I was going to say earlier."

"Well, let's talk about something else then," you say. "Like, anything interesting happen on base?"

Clown takes on a dangerous expression – halfway between manic smirk and deranged grin. "Oh, you see, rumour has it that-"

Brownie sighs. "Again? Not so early, Clown. Some of us would like the morning to go by before hearing of Lietenant So-and-so's sordid conquests or Sergeant Somebody-or-other's toilet accidents."

Knocker laughs. "Ah, don't worry about it, Brownie! You enjoy this just as much as everyone else does."

You spend the rest of the morning shooting the shit with Clown and the rest over eggs and sausages. All in all, it was pretty good as far as mornings went – you got a good meal and got a little closer to people you were going into battle with. Not bad (other than the coffee, which you manage to drink two cups of). After the meal, Golem Squadron left for some reason or another, leaving you alone at your bench with Clown.

He waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly, which elicits a chuckle from you. "So, what'd you want to do, rookie? Paperwork and crap comes in the afternoon; the morning's free," he raises his cup.

You've got some free time in the morning. What do, SV? (take two)