“Relay my orders,” said Marshal Marie. “We’ll be moving to cover the flanks. Alpha and Charlie, cover the left; the rest, follow me to handle the right.”

She glanced at Aziz. “I’ll leave this side to you.”

The colonel saluted. “Yes, ma’am. Relay my orders — we’ll be repositioning ourselves to the left flank. Prepare to move after ten seconds.”

Captain Hans and Augustus saluted, and after a short pause, Thunderbolt Battalion split up, their movements in sync as they ascended a few hundred metres, before moving over to the Eastern fliers’ flanks. It was a movement that could be described as perfect, and Aziz could feel hundreds of eyes track Thunderbolt’s movements with awe.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Aziz asked.

“Sure does, sir.” Hans grinned. “So many eyes following us around makes me feel good. And it’s the ‘oh wow, I wish I was that good’ variety. Feels as good as when I—”

His voice trailed off. The colonel followed his line of sight to a woman, and then understood immediately. Clearly, Hans didn’t want to boast out his…exploits when people of the opposite gender were in earshot.

“Well, don’t be complacent. Right now, we’re moving on a battalion scale,” said Aziz. “These guys are trying to learn how to move as a division — the difficulty is far higher.”

“Yeah, a division with suboptimal manpower distribution,” Hans muttered. “They’re too widely dispersed. Movement would be a lot easier if they had been split up into small groups, and there’ll be more airspace too.”

“The issues with that,” said Aziz, “then becomes fire control. Right now, the chances of friendly fire are nearly zilch, due to this checkerboard arrangement, but if you were to group them up like what we’re doing now, retraining becomes an issue. And from what the Paragon said, they wanted to avoid friendly fire to prevent political troubles.”

“Better a few friendlies than a whole bunch left for dead,” Hans muttered.

Aziz grunted, and then arrived at the leftmost side of the aerial position. After a few orders, the two companies took up their positions. Almost immediately, the colonel could tell that there were significant differences between Thunderbolt and the East’s fliers.

The latter was rather relaxed about the whole thing. Although their equipment was similar, the Eastern airborne forces were looking around and chatting without paying much attention to their surroundings. They reminded Aziz of the guards who assumed that their assignment was safe, but the problem was that this place was anything but safe.

In contrast, Thunderbolt was at one-third alert. The two companies had already delegated one-third of their troops to be on full standby, while the other parts were relaxing or mediating with their weapons in hand. Aziz had brought with him to Thunderbolt some hard truths of military life — it was boring, tiring, and most duties were the height of redundancy.

As a result, Thunderbolt never gave its all when there wasn’t a conflict. Like the troops back in the Republic, their doctrine of 'one-third alert' maximised both duty and energy. Aziz had been keeping track of the Eastern troops, and save for the professional army, the volunteers and conscripts were either dead on their feet or on full alert.

“Hey, let me join you guys this round,” said Aziz.

“Sir? We’re fine with it,” said Hans, “but is it okay for you to do that?”

“Yes. I’m still part of Thunderbolt, no?” Aziz smiled. “Besides, me being on alert the whole time’s not going to do much. The only time I should be alert is when the scouts report back to us, or when we’re in combat.”

“S-so long as you aren’t going to punish us for beating you then,” Hans replied doubtfully. “Augustus, take out the set.”

Aziz chuckled, and then began to immerse himself in the game. Skulls was a game that someone back in the South had invented, and somehow, it had turned into a pastime for Thunderbolt. It was easy to keep and set up, which made it a fun choice for troops, especially the airborne ones.

After a few sad defeats, Aziz said, “I wonder if the creator of Skulls has new games out now. There has to be something that doesn’t rely on the strength of your poker face.”

“Probably. Skulls is rather simple, yet complex, so there has to be more games released by now,” said Hans. “Hell, it’s nearly the Republic’s national game. Even if he or she isn’t going to make any newer ones, the maker is probably really famous now.”

Augustus flipped open Aziz’s top few cards and his own, before grinning. “Sir, you’re too easy to read.”

“Shut it, Augustus.” Aziz looked at the other solders and rolled his eyes. Other than the ones currently keeping watch, the rest were either playing their own games…or watching their vice-commander’s successive defeats. Unfortunately for Aziz, it seemed that the latter option was something overwhelmingly more popular.

The other captains gave Aziz the stink-eye — Augustus had won his fifth game in a row — only to desist when the colonel mouthed a threat to make them do a set of drills the next day.

“That’s low, sir,” said Hans.

“Yeah,” said Alpha Company’s vice-commander, Captain Claire. “That is one really low threat.”

“What threat?” Augustus, who had closed his eyes in what looked like an attempt to bask in victory, asked.

“Oh, never mind.”

Aziz rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’m going to check on the status of the exercise. For some reason, the Eastern troops haven’t moved at all. In the meantime, the rest of you should get ready to move at a moment’s notice. If we’re lucky, this whole shindig’s going to end soon, and we’ll be able to go back for some well-deserved sleep.”

The colonel stifled a yawn and flew off. It was evident that the East’s troops were on the verge of falling asleep, since nothing had happened for the past hour or so. Aziz wasn’t sure it was paralysis within the chains of command or the disturbance that had made the Paragon fly off earlier, but he had the feeling that the exercise was about to end.

Which, now that he thought about it, didn’t bode so well for Operation Spring Fury.