"Got it, dropping to the deck? No traffic below? "None." "Here we go then." Easing over the stick of the small B-37, nicknamed 'Lightning' by its crew, URF aircraft commander Captain Albert Nichols watched the tops of the scorched Mamorian trees come dangerously close to his aircraft's landing gear. As he concentrated on keeping the aircraft from clipping one of the tops, he heard a voice come over his radio, Sergeant Robert May, who controlled the ventral machine gun. "What exactly are we bombing this town for again?" "Seems like every mission we have is making an example of someone." "Roger."